#Machiavellian Tim drake

[thatshadowgastwhore]

Tim Drake x PJO Aphrodite kid AU drabble

Tim was never more in his element than when he was at a gala. A party. A soirée. A fundraiser rubbing shoulders with the heights of society, or the dregs, depending on one’s perspective. 

He was built for it, afterall. 

Five feet and seven inches of lean muscle and a shockingly defined figure, he had the shiny, healthy, onyx dark hair, perfectly clear skin, and defined cheekbones to make anyone swoon. People said he inherited all his mother’s looks, which was entirely too accurate, a private joke for him alone. 

He did look an awful lot like Janet Drake. He just also inherited quite a few of Aphrodite’s characteristics as well. 

It was all in his voice. Where Janet was sharp and hawkish, her remarks biting in a way you could feel, but couldn’t quite counter, Tim’s voice was melodic. It lulled anyone within earshot into a sense of trust and security. Your secrets were safe with him. Look at him - would he do you any harm? Why don’t you tell him all the details of the deal you’re brokering with Mr. Luthor?

He could glide across the floor in a dance, leading or following depending on who his partner was, charm the pants off anyone he wanted to, or quickly disengage from anyone he didn’t. He was everything Janet could have hoped for in a magical baby delivered to her by Eros himself following an affair with the most stunning woman in all of Paris. At least it was a plausible explanation for why he could speak French fluently. 

Yes, Tim was the pride of both of his mother’s when he put away his pretenses and just let his godly side flex for a moment. Sure, being half god helped him heal faster, keep the superhero physique, and have the reflexes one needed to excel as Red Robin. But getting to be his mother’s son on these nights….it felt good.

Which was why he maybe forgot the directive for the night. Which was to make a briefer than normal appearance before departing for patrol. He was filing away the information Mrs. Tipton was telling him about her husband, the senator’s, exquisite time in the Iceberg Lounge for the case he was working, when he felt Bruce and Damian’s eyes on him across the room. 

He elected to ignore them. If they wanted him to patrol that badly tonight, they could tell him themselves. Have Steph do it, she’d been adamant she not have to attend the gala. He continued to circle the party, sauntering around, moving his hips more than he justifiably needed to to walk, but sue him for knowing his ass looked really good in this suit. It only helped his charmspeak; people wanted to believe they were still attractive and young, and if an attractive young person complimented them and accepted them as one of their own, it only made his words more potent. Whoever said that sex sold wasn’t a liar. 

He allowed the young son of some board member or the other to lead him onto the dance floor, quickly beguiling him and tracing the right threads to tug in an embezzlement investigation. The other man (Rufus, Tim learned, a family name apparently) wouldn’t even remember the contents of their conversation, Tim’s words were so potent, just that it had ended with a good-bye kiss to the cheek. 

Bruce did care, it turned out. He approached Tim at the edge of the party near the refreshment table. 

“You were supposed to be patrolling tonight. Jason requested your help with the trafficking investigation.”

“Steph can do it,” Tim said, “I’m more useful here.”

“Tim, you know that route better than anyone-”

“Bruce,” Tim looked him straight in the eyes, “you want me at this gala. This is where I shine. Stephanie can work that patrol. I’ll find more information now to generate leads for more cases than just Black Mask.”

The charmspeak wrapped around his words, causing Bruce to pause, clearly struggling against the magic. He had a strong mind, Tim could give him that. 

“You want this, Bruce. I’m helping people.” Tim pushed. 

He knew that wasn’t really how charmspeak was supposed to work. Forcing his will onto other people wasn’t how it was most effective, he should be more subtle about it. But Tim took great pride in being the only one to lie to Batman, and he didn’t need magic to do it. He could be convincing all on his own. Afterall, Aphrodite might have made his tongue silver, but Janet was the one who made it sharp. He was his mothers’ son, and he could convince anyone of anything. 

“Yes, of course,” Bruce succumbed, “I’ll ask Steph to meet up with Jason.”

Tim’s face morphed into the perfect breezy, carefree smile. “Yes, you will.” He made eye contact across the room with his next mark, a known pawn of Scarecrow, the daughter of some uppercrust Bristol couple, and current chemistry student at Gotham University. He wasn’t wrong. He could help more people here. 

It was also way more fun. 

[ghurab-alzilal]

Stephanie: If you found out you had one day left to live, what would you do with it?

Dick: I'd probably say goodbye to all my family and friends.

Tim: Probably something illegal. I will like to broke the rules at least once in the life I guess.

Jason: Nothing special. I'd just accept my fate.

Damian: Actually, I would message to you all and say if you don't forward the message to 10 other people, I will die at next day. I would go happy to hell while you live twisting in remorse and guilt.

Dick, Tim and Stephanie: ...

Jason, laughing out loud : That's fucking amazing. Can I change my answer?

[classicallystrained-blog]

I can just see baby Tim being like

Tim: Dick you’re my dad now so you have to do what that dad on TV just did.

Dick: You want me to…pat your head and say “good job”?

Tim: Yes. It’s part of our deal now.

Dick: So if I don’t do it…you’ll reveal my identity?

Tim: And I want a hug at least once a week.

Dick: Tim-

Tim: Fine, every two weeks. But the head pat and “good job” is at least once a month!

Dick:

Tim:

Dick: Can I do it more?

Tim: …what

The summary of the fic I'm writing is just:

Ten-year-old!Tim intercepting Nightwing on patrol: hi

Nightwing: Hi there buddy :) you lost?

Tim: no

Nightwing: Do you need help?

Tim: no

Nightwing: ? What do you need then?

Tim, shyly: can you do a somersault for me?

Nightwing: Oh! I can do that :) which one?

Tim: the quadruple somersault please

Nightwing: Okay-

Tim: the one that only Flying Graysons could do.

Nightwing: ...Is that right?

Tim: i know you're Dick Grayson. adopt me and I won't tell anyone

Nightwing:

Nightwing, squinting: You're the Drake kid. When did you become an orphan?

Tim: i didn't

Tim: but I can if that's a requirement

Nightwing: Are you suggesting you would kill your parents?

Tim: ...no?

Nightwing: Kid-

Tim: my name's Tim

Nightwing: Tim, you can't kill your parents.

Tim, stubbornly: you can't parent me until you adopt me

Nightwing, remembering how much he put Bruce through: This is karma.

One month later

Bruce: Dick! I didn't know you were visiting! Not that I'm upset, I'm really glad, it's just a surpise-

Bruce: Whose kid is that.

Dick, exhausted: Mine apparently.

Tim: hi :D

Bruce, assuming Tim is five because he's small: You got someone pregnant at sixteen?

Jason, at the same time: You stole a kid?

Tim: I know you're Batman and Robin :D

Dick: What part of this looks like I had a choice. He was planning to kill his parents.

Tim: they just handed over custody so I didn't have to :D

Dick: I'm sorry for being a difficult kid, but please fix this, he's not eating

Jason: Have you tried peanut butter or potatoes?

Bruce: He knows our identities? And planned to kill his parents?

Dick, ignoring Bruce: Tim's not a dog.

Tim: i like peanut butter. and potatoes

Jason: See, Dickhead? I know stuff.

Dick: You're the smartest person ever, Little Wing, now how do I make that into a full meal

Bruce: Why does a murderous child know our identities?

Dick, frowning: Let the kid eat first, Bruce.

Jason: Yeah, Bruce. Why do you want the kid to starve?

Bruce: I didn't-

Tim: you want me to starve? i'm sorry :(

Bruce: Oh my God

[mysterycitrus]

PLEASE go off about Bruce

the popular modern character beat for bruce where he’s this truly unhinged machiavellian mega genius actively plotting his own downfall is so far divorced from his neo-noir detective roots it makes me want to tear my hair out

it really goes without saying that bruce is singularly driven by restorative justice, more than literally anyone else aside from maybe cass cain. his decision not to kill under any circumstances is not a selfish one, it’s a selfless one, because bruce understands that no one person should have the right to take a life. if killing is a legitimate action to take against a threat then anyone, whether it be an individual or an institution, can be incentivised to kill as a first resort. bruce understands the complicated nature of crime and why it occurs. he understands community and the importance of social support, and how human connection will save lives. he never wants anyone to feel the pain he felt in that alley ever again.

he’s a detective who mistrusts the police and actively works against them. combat and physical violence aren’t what drive him, it’s an unfortunate consequence of opposing corruption. if he can save a child instead of throwing a punch, he’ll do it. if he can talk someone off a ledge, he’ll make the time. he can’t unknot his own heart, but he still tries. it hurts, but he tries.

bruce’s purposeful disconnection from others out of fear of losing them is driven by selfish desire, because he is (deep down and hidden away) a profoundly loving person who believes everyone deserves a chance. this is shown in how he raised his kids — he’ll smother them to protect them while forcing himself to hold them at arms distance. when they reflect his worst habits back at him, he’s horrified. he’s objectively a bad parent. no one else should let him adopt more children. he saved dick grayson and jason todd and cass cain and tim drake. many things can be true at once.

the interpretation of him as either a brooding, violent asshole with no redeeming qualities OR a somewhat pugnacious but ultimately emotionally mature father figure both miss the point of bruce wayne’s primary motivation, being that he is still in crime alley as an eight year old, kneeling in the ground amid the pearls, and he has not moved in thirty years. he can’t leave, because if he leaves then who will be there to guide the next dick grayson, the next cass, out from those shadows and into the light? he is anchored by his own weight. so much of what he does comes from a need for control, a hyper fixation on predicting the outcome, if preventing the worst case scenario before it happens. the rest of it is love in motion.

[lysical]

Tim Drake: *is apparently a super tech genius who can program unfamiliar alien tech and hatch Machiavellian plots and create a System Batman doesn’t know about to make sure he never runs out of partners, apparently* 

Also Tim Drake: *doesn’t recognize that the Batman he’s speaking to ISN’T BRUCE*

me: tynion i knew i couldn’t trust you but come on dude. 

[thatshadowgastwhore]

If the tim Drake you’re serving me isn’t a Machiavellian’s wet dream….i don’t want him