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the-last-quest · 26 days

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A short fic based on this post because it’s been consuming my brain

[883 words]

Nine lowered himself on the lip of the cave, his shoes connecting with the ground as quietly as he could.

He almost missed what he was looking for, the light of the full moon outside not enough to reach into all the small crevices of the cave, only a small glimmer, not fully in the shadows, giving away that something was there. That thing being the metal arm belonging to the fox that he, and everyone else, had been missing for the past few hours.

Sails hadn’t noticed him yet, the pirate curled up into himself, and for that Nine was a little relived. As he made his way further into the cave his mind raced with things to say. He knew what he wanted to say to the other, but now that he was faced with it, he had no idea how to.

He made his way closer to the other, his footsteps silent due to years of practice. Everything was going peacefully until he accidentally kicked a pebble, the noise alerting the other fox to his presence

Nine froze as he made eye contact with Sails. He thought by now he would be used to seeing reflections of himself, but this was different. It was obvious that Sails had been crying, though now the tears were dry. Along with that he looked terrified of being discovered, seeming ready to bolt at any second. It reminded Nine in when he had felt like this, when he was younger, backed into a corner with no escape. He decided then and there he never wanted to see that expression on any of his brothers again.

Nine put his hand up in front of him to show that he didn’t mean any harm, he didn’t trust himself to speak. Only a small swish of his tails before Sails curled into himself again indicated that it was okay for Nine to come closer.

As Nine sat down next to the pirate he dug into his shorts pocket. He nudged the other lightly with his shoulder, drawing attention to what he held in his hand.

A blue and white bandana.

A bandana that had led Sails to run off and hide. A bandana that had fallen off when Sails and Mangey were play fighting. A bandana that hid a jagged clipped ear.

With shaky hands Sails took the bandana from Nine. He watched as Sails held the bandana to his chest before looking back up and giving Nine a shaky smile.

He decided to use that as a chance to speak, to say something that could tell the other he knew how he felt, that he was the same. But as he opened his mouth no words came out, his brain once again failing him as he had no idea how to handle this.

Now though he had Sails’ attention, he felt like he had to do something.

Nine took a deep breath, aware of the eyes that were on him, as he started to unclasp his black glove. He paused and squeezed his eyes, unwilling to look at his own paw as he removed his glove. It was silent for a moment, long enough for Nine to begin to regret what he did, until he heard a small, sharp inhale when Sails realized what Nine was showing him, the scars from being declawed.

Nine turned away from his paw before he opened his eyes again. He was met with Sails looking straight at him. This time though Nine couldn’t read his expression, a mixture of sadness and pity, but also an understanding.

He didn’t know what to think until Sails let out a small noise. It was a mixture between a laugh and a sob. Nine stared at Sails as the other fox devolved into laughter. Nine doesn’t know why but he joined in the laughter.

It felt like a weight was lifted. Everything was out in the open now and there was nothing to hide. The culmination of the stress and the shame, and most importantly the relief of not being seen as different tipped them over the edge.

It was a while until the laughter stopped. Nine leaned back again the stone wall of the cave, wiping away tears. He felt a weight drop onto his shoulder. Sails was looking up at him, a smug smile on his tear stained face. Nine rolled his eyes at the other’s antics but made no attempt to push him off, instead leaning his head to rest on top of Sails’.

They didn’t say anything. No long winded discussions on how they got their scars. No unpacking why they felt to cover them up. Just a mutual understanding that both of them had faced something that irreparably changed them physically, something that still affects how they view themselves.

Soon Nine would have to call in, letting the others know that they were safe. Right now though he could wait. Sure it wasn’t the most comfortable situation, he could feel Sails’ elbow digging into his side, and he couldn’t say he was totally happy, but he did feel somewhat content and based on the quiet purr Sails had started to let out he did too. It wouldn’t hurt that much to stay in this moment for a little longer.

#I’m so normal about them guys #I do have ideas on how they got their injuries but I didn’t feel like they fit here #I just wanted them to have their moment #sonic prime fanfic #sonic prime #nine sonic prime #nine the fox #miles nine prower #sails the fox #sails tails #sails sonic prime #prime bros #my writing #sonic the hedgehog

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leisi-lilacdreams · 7 months

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i wonder if @somerandomdudelmao will touch upon the unique connection the donnies have with the kraang? hehehe

cass, think of the angst potential 🙏

i didn't mean to continue with the "twin senses active across space and time" bit, but i thought with the leos in the future, this would be a good chance for the donnies to talk and bond, but it gets derailed when they compared their kraang encounters and everyone's screaming and no one's happy

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petricorah · 2 months

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scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]

#zukka #zukka fanart #sokka #sokka fanart #zuko #zuko fanart #atla #atla fanart #avatar the last airbender #zukka fic rec #myart #yall. yall. dani. this FIC #first off it made me cry twice. not like 'oh im crying' internet speak no. like. eyes are too blurry to read let me stop this for a sec #it is SO GOOD #your prose? amazing #your insights on grief? life changing #THEM??? THEM their relationship and trust #'zuko looked at him and his world shifted on its axis'#ive been thinking about that line for WEEKS STRAIGHT #i can't tell you how many passages i screenshot just because of how beautiful or cute they were #the moment of seeing the painting of sokka's mom? how did you manage to make it so telling character wise--so sweet so PAINful AND so #cute with their relationship?!!?!#'oh so you think i'm beautiful too'#GOD #i had so many scenes i wanted to draw it was crazy #also #'Our loved ones leave impressions on us that can still impact our decisions and feelings even after they're gone'#fuck. had me crying AGAIN #seriously this fic is so wonderful and not just through a zukka lens. truly life changing you're an AMAZING writer #the fandom is so lucky to have you and i can't Believe it took me so long to get around to reading this masterpiece

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ahhlehlehlehleh · 3 months

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How are we feeling bad batch nation? I am terrified but also overjoyed to see them again.

#star wars #tbb #the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #spoiler #crosshair #omega #batcher #a me doodle #uni is holding me by my throat like darth vader but i really wanted to draw something enjoyable before next week's episodes #I just want to enjoy this moment of them having a pet

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egophiliac · 11 months

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redesigning my headcanon for Sebek's parents, based on important new information (SCALES)

(you can't see it but they're both wearing crocs)

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #they are truly the most inspiring love story of our generation #though i guess he's not dr. zigvolt since zigvolt is the clan name...#unless he took her name which i absolutely could see. why would you ever not want to be called zigvolt.#this does tie nicely in with my headcanon that sebek's siblings got more of the fae features than he did #and he has a Complex about it #i get the impression that sebek's siblings are much closer in age to each other and also have more of their dad's chill #so sebek is sort of the baby of the family and he's got a Complex about that too #i think a lot about the zigvolt family for characters who have never actually appeared #on the subject of actual canon though #i do actually really appreciate that both sebek and silver each had a little moment of reassuring each other #that this is 400 years ago and also incredibly unfortunate circumstances #and present-day reality lilia and baul love them very much #(i do think sebek is secretly baul's favorite grandkid)#it was just nice to see! especially from sebek! he is sometimes a very thoughtful boy and it's always nice to see that side of him #sebek trying SO hard to get baul to like him though 😭#and lilia being like 'aw i think you're getting kind of fond of him :)'#i love. Characters.

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demigods-posts · 4 months

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okay but. annabeth having having feelings for percy. and KNOWING he's developing feelings for her too. but refusing to act on it until she thinks he's about to die. and she'll never get another chance to. so kisses him. and then he crashes his own funeral two weeks later. and now neither of them can deny the tension anymore. and they still have a year left to see if it's even worth saying out loud. or if he was always destined to leave her. because the prophecy has yet to pass. peak writing.

#this stakes were so high #no just world ending #but relationship ending #and the fact that the readers spend the entire series waiting for them to get together once they're in the clear #only to separate them for two books (practically three since they can hardly have a moment peace in moa)#and them choosing to be together in they think are their dying moments over and over again because 'i don't want to lose him/her again'#percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo text post #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #percabeth angst

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puppetmaster13u · 5 months

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Prompt 169

Danny is from a world where everyone has wings, even if most have long since lost the ability to fly. Something about loading and aspect ratio, wings being too small, body too heavy, now mostly used as display, whatever.

It doesn’t matter even if he had blueprints from when he was like six of a jetpack to help fly. It won’t work anyway and hey, he has his ghost form! Which uh, might be perhaps, affecting his wings which were maybe sort of scorched black and practically down to the bone thanks to the accident.

It doesn’t matter, he swears. Though he’s admittedly relieved to see the new feathers growing in are different from Dan’s angry sunset. Even if they’re not even supposed to be able to grow back. Alright, this is fine, no one is going to notice! It’s not like everyone knows about the poor Fenton kid whose wings were absolutely destroyed thanks to an accident! It’s fine.

He’s not flying in a half-panic towards the Far Frozen while crying because his wings are coming back and he’s so scared. He didn’t panic and instantly fled the moment Jazz pointed them out while changing the bandages.

He definitely didn’t trip over something while wiping away said tears and blacking out from all the stress and all of his problems that he definitely mentioned to someone and isn’t keeping a secret. Definitely.

Hawkwoman and Hawkman would like everyone to know that neither of them were expecting a very small child to be spat out of the villain of that week’s machine that should definitely not be a portal. A very small child, maybe nine or ten, with a multitude of concerning wounds both old and fresh. Which isn’t even beginning to touch on the wings.

Feathered, like baby down despite the gnarled scars, unlike their own metallic, with the beginning of tiny specklings like stars amidst the darker fuzz peeking from the wounded flesh.

Who?! Who dared?! It’s (at least to the forever reincarnating duo) a literal baby! They still have down! Tiny baby fuzz! Was it the portal?! Oh this villain is going to taste their maces for causing this if that’s the case!

The rest of the Justice League would honestly like to know what just happened and are honestly unsure on if they should stop the two…

#dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #wing au #Shayera & Carter: THAT IS A BABY #Danny who is still very distressed when he wakes up: I don’t know what’s going on & might start crying at any moment #He got brought to the Watchtower #Y’know what make it where his world is similar to a Flashpoint timeline & that’s why JL never came #He has no idea why he’s tiny and just wanted to go to one of his caretakers #The League is trying to figure out how to get this kid home but also subtly asking how his home life is #Danny: Oh I guess my bio-parent’s house is dangerous but my caretaker’s homes are really cool and safe!#The JL now think this child is in foster care of some sort in his world #Danny does nothing to dissuade this assumption #Honestly it’s really freaky for him to see people without wings & maybe clings to Hawkwoman & Hawkman #Look their wings might be metallic but at least they have them & he can actually recognize their body language #How can anyone deal with not being able to express with wings?!#Even if his were completely scorched from the Accident he could still move them and such!

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turtleblogatlast · 21 days

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I think a lot about Leo standing up for his brothers in the things that really matter to them.

Like- Leo is the one who immediately pushes Mikey and Donnie into finding Raph the second it’s clear that their oldest brother is missing because he knows Raph can’t handle being separated like that.

Leo is the one who stands up for Mikey when Mikey wants to go on a solo mission, actively vouching for him and being the one to convince Raph into letting Mikey go, because being independent and proving himself just as capable of standing on his own two feet as everyone else means so much to Mikey.

And Leo defends Donnie’s honor in particular when his brothers’ intelligence is insulted because Leo is well aware of how important Donnie’s smarts are to him - and how important having those smarts valued and acknowledged is as well.

All this goes right into just how well Leo knows his brothers. For as much as he’ll tease or fight with them, he knows them, and he loves them.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rottmnt headcanons #rise leo #listen Leo loves his family SO MUCH #and like it’s no accident that Leo is consistently the one to give pep talks that #very notably #are less ‘everyone as a group’ and more ‘all of you individually’#it’s heartening to see honestly and like #it works with how he is as both a person and as a fighter #he knows people he knows them so well he knows how they work what they’re like #which is SO USEFUL for subterfuge AND portal/teleportation strategy #my guy is charming his charisma comes from his understanding of people at an individual level #when he wants to be he is very very good at that #he’s still a teen who is too cocky for his own good at times but that does not negate his stellar other moments #he can be selfish he can be mean he can be rude but when push comes to shove he is so quick to stand up for his family #Mikey’s statement at the end of the movie about how Leo NEVER gave up on THEM is so important because it’s not JUST about the movie!!#that’s Leo as a whole he will never give up on his bros #portal jacked is telling of this too because although it has a lot of comedic moments #never once does Leo stop looking for a way to get his bros back #they’re everything to him #he’s the face man he’s a people person and he’s the number 1 pet turtle which I will discuss the implications of in this essay-#Will also say that when Leo does these moments of standing up for his bros he’s never expecting praise for it #he’s just glad they find Raph he just smiles when Mikey tells him he loves him he never mentions defending Donnie #leo has a tendency to show off fancy glittery moves but his real actions and feelings are sooo much more lowkey #that you have to be actively looking for them to catch them all #and I really really like that about him it’s so interesting HE is so interesting

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thefrsers · 7 days

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Everything that matters, is already in this room.

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eru-iru · 5 days

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my dearest

#persona 3 #persona 3 reload #ryomina #makoto yuki #minato arisato #ryoji mochizuki #hey there everyone who wants ryoshu #how did this came out sad or smth #i just wanted them to have a tender moment help #my hands can only draw angst #im cursed #p3 #p3r #iruiruart

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doggirlhen · 1 year

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the thing is you have to get a good grade in being an art commissioner. you cannot be a bitch when paying for art. you have to be patient and nice. i have not been perfect in my years of paying other furries for art of my funny animals but i can, with confidence, say ive gotten a good grade. artist friends of mine agree im awesome and fankly the Keys to being Awesome at being a commissioner are just like. being nice and recognizing artists arent machines. theyre people who have their own lives and are not infront of their tablet drawing for everyone 24/7. youll find them posting about some game or movie when youve been waiting three weeks for something and thats fine. youll find them having difficulty getting something exactly like how it is in your brain because, like all people, they cannot read your mind. you gotta have everything ready and upfront and be ready to answer questions. its fine to be a little nitpicky and a little "sorry im not quite sure on this pose, could you do X Y and Z" and not be an asshole about it. after a certain number of "can you do X different" you have to realize its either not going to be exactly how you want it to be or the artist is going to want to kill you with hammers. and thats fine. i think artists have every right to want to kill you with hammers.

#barks #rambling sorry #im friends with many artists and have the privilege of sometimes hearing them bitch about awful clients #and i take such pride in so far not being one of those #ive had my moments. i will not say im perfect i have for sure pissed of friends of mine being nitpicky #but in pieces where i want a high level of finesse and specificity ive always mentioned that from the getgo #and offered to pay past a certain amount of fixes #this isnt on my mind for any particular reason im not between many comms atm #idk just. be nice to artists #if youre an artist friend of mine and yo uwant to leave any notes or anything in the replies please be my guest

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ipostmysimpingstuffanonymously · 8 months

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They both lost their team and their teacher....

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faeriekit · 2 months

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The Foster Mother

Now on ao3 and VHS release

There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.

“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.

“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”

…Alright.

Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.

Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.

And then Tim walked into the room.

And then Jazzy was there.

Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.

She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.

She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.

Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.

(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)

Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.

The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.

She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.

Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.

She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.

Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.

She looked up when he came in.

Tim. Stopped in his tracks.

It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.

“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.

She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!

“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“

“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.

Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.

(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)

She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.

He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.

“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”

Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.

“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”

Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”

Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?

“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”

Which. Whiplash. What a statement.

“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.

Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”

“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”

“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”

Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.

Jazzy waited patiently.

“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.

Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”

It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—

—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.

She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.

“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.

He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.

Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.

It was for the best.

“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”

…Tim’s heart skipped.

He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…

Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?

And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!

“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”

She handed him the backpack by the handle.

…Tim peeked inside.

On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.

And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.

Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.

Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.

It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.

Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.

Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.

“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“

“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.

“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”

Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.

“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!

“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”

Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.

And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.

Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.

He swallowed.

Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.

#dp x dc #Jazz fenton #tim drake #that one time Tim specifically hired a fake uncle so that Bruce couldn't adopt him #free to a good home #Jack Fenton knits btw #I'm not going to continue this but i thought it was a cool premise and needed its time. Have fun with it if you want to!#this is dedicated to all the fulltime nannies at the library who are fully just college girls raising babies #dpxdc #dcxdp #Jazz said is anyone going to raise this baby and was targeted by ninjas for it #I don't have any future plans BUT there is a moment where Dick tries to sneak into her apt to 'check it out' and she fully Gets Him with a #TBI and a Fenton CreepStickTM #also. parents who try to shape their kids by denying them every form of human comfort and access to their interests. You're dead to me #also also also I'm still a Tim Drake Autistic truther #not NOT inspired by the Say Uncle by Megarakles. This one's for you fellow fans #also. if he goes with her. He gets parented for the first time ever and it Sucks Ass lol.#faer fic

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