#Timothy Prus

[deadsetobsessions]

Your name is Tim Drake and you are nine years old.

Today, tomorrow, and soon, you're going to save Robin.

----

Tim stares at his reflection on the sink tap. It trembles, along with the plane, as he contemplates his situation.

His face is rounder, now, with unfamiliar baby-fat rounding out the sharp lines he'd come to expect. Even with the subpar reflection, Tim can tell that his dark eyebags are all but gone, replaced with youthful skin.

Magic. He's being quite literal, seeing as he's been tossed into the body of his younger self at the hands of a crazed magician.

He could find a way back... or he could create a completely different timeline by fixing everything that went wrong. It's not like he has anything to go back to, anyways. That crazed magician was actually competent and killed everyone he ever cared about. Tim barely got away with his life. He could go back to save that shell of a world- surrounded by people whose minds were broken beyond magical and medical repair- or stay here, fix his own personal troubles and cut off the magician before he could start with his world domination bullshit.

Well, Tim already has an idea of what he wants. So he begins a list, after having oriented himself.

Save Robin

There's no point trying to convince Bruce that he knows where Jason's being held. So, Tim finds himself on a plane to Ethiopia a day before Jason's meant to die. This was long before Barbara even thought of being Oracle, and the tech is ancient in his hands. In short order, nine year old Tim has a trust fund with millions in it, all siphoned from billionaires like Lex Luthor and his own parents.

Tim toddles back to his seat, after washing his hands because he still can't shake the extra bit of paranoia that came with a missing spleen. Oh. Tim blinks guilelessly at his seat neighbor, smiling like Timothy Drake, Angel of a Son as he reels from the realization that he still has his spleen.

Tim adds another box to his list:

Keep Ra's away from my spleen, creepy bastard.

What else...? Ah, the League of Assassins.

Damian

Tim pauses. Holy crap. Damian's only six right now. Tim moves Damian's box upwards in urgency. Tim might have a mildly antagonistic relationship with his younger brother back then, but he wants baby pictures of his siblings, dammit. He's gonna put that photography expertise to good use if it's the last thing he does.

Watch over Z, Owens, Pru

'They're alive!' His mind screams. Cold rationality slaps the sentimentality down with a quick 'But they won't be if I fail.'

His mind wanders to Dick Grayson. He scowls as something pops up in the back of his head.

Catalina Flores

Contact Nightwing- in space

He's gotta call Dick back from that Teen Titans mission, Jason's gonna need all of the support he's going to get.

Find Cass

Train Steph

Save Duke's family from Venom

Tim taps at that last point. He'll save them. But that might mean Duke might never join their family.

But he'll be happy and Tim... will deal with it. He'll be the only one mourning, anyways. To end on a lighter note, he adds something that he should have done ages ago.

Give Tam a raise.

Tim sighs as he gets out of the airport, the hired escort he found and vetted, delivering him to a predetermined hotel. They think his parents are already inside. He laughs and does not say anything to make them think otherwise. He has so many things to do, Tim laments as he settles down to track the Joker's movements. Here. That's where Jason's being held. Being tortured.

He can, however, knock two things off his list in one go. Tim picks up the burner phone he acquired. He doesn't have time, or else he would have done this sooner and saved them all the trouble.

[RR: Are you in Ethiopia yet?]

[Deathstroke: Payment confirmed. In Ethiopia.]

[RR: Third building by the docks.]

An hour.

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Target spotted.]

Ten minutes.

[Deathstroke: Target eliminated. Bringing Robin to Safehouse.]

Twenty minutes.

[Deathstroke: Basic first aid applied. Leaving.]

[RR: Secondary payment sent. Confirm?]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Pleasure doing business with you.]

Tim sprawls on the king bed. He sighs a breath of relief. He'd check on Jason in person, if he weren't paranoid about leaving traces that would get back to him. Tim's pretty sure that Deathstroke's going to get hunted down in the near future, regardless, so he made sure to add a huge tip on top of the extra fees for burning one of Deathstroke's safe houses and the emergency first aid. He taps into the rudimentary camera Deathstroke had given him the access codes to, to stare at Jason's rising and falling chest. On a further table, the Joker's head laid in a preservation box.

He bypasses all of the security on the Teen Titan's tech to send Dick a message.

[Robin has been retrieved from the Joker. Contact Batman for details.]

Then, he sends Bruce the location of the safe house. Tim spends the rest of the day staring at Jason and watching his father in another timeline break as he huddles close to the broken body of Tim's Robin.

Timothy Drake destroys the burner phone.

[brucewaynehater101]

Okay, you know that hc where Tim Reincarnates as The Trash of the Bat Family? It got me thinking of him scamming and making the "Real League of Assassins". He integrates Pru, Z and Owens early, makes them his people (or assassins disguised as servants).

"Where's the coffee?"

Owens, pouring chamomile tea, "We're all out of coffee, Sir."

"Energy drinks?"

Pru, throwing a trash bag away. "All gone too, Sir."

He integrates Kon before he experiences the SA with Tana Moon and other ladies, and Kon becomes his bodyguard.

"Are we doing something bad?"

"Oh, we're doing something veeeeery bad. To Lex Luthor."

Tim rescuing Damian.

"You're Damian Al Ghul Wayne. You're an Al Ghul and a Wayne. You can do whatever you want. I'm not taking care of you."

Damian, not trusting this lying bastard, secretly follows him around. Tim knows Damian is, and begrudgingly just accepts Damian into his fold until he reaches Gotham again.

"If you die, Timothy, I will dominate the world, kill everyone, and then myself."

I love these additions so much!!!

The "Real League of Assassins" is such a petty name, and I live for it. Just Tim as a kid and his little League of Assassins (depending on how far back he went into the past and how soon he aquires the OG best assassin squad). It would be double hilarious if his "Real League of Assassins" doesn't actually kill anyone, but I also respect Tim's right to commit murder however he deems fit. I like to imagine how mad Ra's would get at the name.

Part of Tim's asshole cover comes from Pru. There's two ways this can go. One, Pru is her complete self in front of everyone (she will break someone's nose no matter their price tag). This causes major scandals and issues for Tim cause how could he hire someone who behaves like that? Or Two, Pru is creepily pleasant and respectful around other company, and Tim continues to act like usual around her. This causes people to pity Pru for having such a horrible boss.

I also live for Bodyguard Kon AUs. You know the two of them are playing a "I know your sickly Victorian child looking ass can beat me up, but I will pretend I don't know this until you tell me why" with a "please stop saving me from every small things because I know you know a sunburn isn't going to kill me." It's dealer's choice on how soon Kon finds out about Tim's vigilante gig. Also, if Kon is a bodyguard in this, is he also Superboy or the equivalent? Does he become a superhero once he finds out about Tim's heroism? There's no way Kon would stick around Tim if he believed the persona Tim kept up.

Cue Tim accidentally forming the YJ again, but this time it's hidden from the JL radars and is a closely guarded secret.

As far as Damian, I absolutely love that quote you included. It's so Damian coded and I live for him threatening to take over the world. I also want to see Tim's reaction and how concerned he is over Damian threatening to kill himself. As an older brother, he legit could care less about Damian managing to kill the entire world. It's Damian wanting to die that scares him.

As far as the AU, Tim is trying so hard to distance himself from the Waynes that his dumbass shouldn't have picked up Damian in person. He was probably too anxious to leave it to someone else, but now he has a tiny suspicious assassin who reluctantly became fond of him.

There's a few different ways this can play out.

One, Tim picks up Damian in his vigilante costume and never unmasks to Damian. The little tot starts to think of this vigilante as maybe a brother before being given to Bruce (angst of abandonment tied with identity shenanigans. How soon does Damian realize that Timothy "Trash" Drake is the one to save him from the League?).

Two, Tim starts off with his secret identity in tact but reveals himself while traveling back. They bond, Damian is left at Bruce's, and, to the surprise of literally all the Waynes, the kid is seen constantly talking to the complete jerk Timothy Drake. Damian is actually nicer to this douchebag stranger than he is to some of his family members. What's equally shocking is how kind Tim is to Damian. Tim hasn't been cruel to children before, but he hasn't gone out of his way to be nice either. This cues investigations into Tim by the batfam.

Three, Damian refuses to go live with his dad and sticks around Tim when they return to Gotham. Depending on when Tim rescues Damian, Tim's fake uncle adopts Damian, and they become brothers legally. When Bruce finds out Damian is his son, he doesn't take the excuse, "I found him on the streets!" from Tim seriously.

[tarwis]

Tim Drake is adopted by the fandom, fight me!

DC stands for Disregard Canon, this post is about fanfiction! I read only ao3 and I do not condone Bat-cest!

I’ve read almost every even remotely fluffy Titans Tower AU, the non-demonic Cryptid Tim Drake, I’ve dabbled quite a bit in Tim Drake Joins the Batfamily Early and even the ones where he avoids the bats like the plague for whatever self-sacrificial reason while helping them (often at the cost of his own well-being) under the guise of an unknown name which has zero connections with Timothy Jackson Drake. I like hyper-competent Tim, "bratty" Tim who’s actually an unappreciated hero, wet blanket Tim (caretaker trigger), chaotic gremlin Tim, cryptid Tim, there was even this story with a DID Tim I really liked. The authors are amazing, especially Lulu_Rhythm, destiny919 and envysparkler (also iselsis with DaisyBirb, but theirs are a little heavy for me, and Nation_Ustria whose updates are slow but writing is *chef’s kiss*).

We love Jason and Tim brothering, but hear me out…where. Are. The Damian and Tim fics? Not the Damian-centric ones where Tim is just a support character to Damian’s growth story, but the relationship-centric ones without Tim being a punching bag for everyone physically and emotionally. Where are Damian’s apologies? Where is Damian’s respect, his guilt, his regret? And after that, where’s the bonding, the gentle sparring, the skateboarding lessons, the interpretative art sessions, secret photography runs through Gotham without worrying about gunshots, only about beautiful city shots. Where are the hard moral talks between two logicians in an emotionally constipated family? Where is the click in Damian’s mind about why he shouldn’t kill? (And on that note, why are half the fics in favour of murder? In favour of Tim going batshit crazy and calling it character development?) And in honour of two posts in pinterest from tumblr, where is Damian’s realisation that Tim is his own greatest enemy and where are the friendship bracelets?

And then, does anyone know what kind of dynamic Dick and Tim have? Here’s a whole post about that, please and thank you:

I have nothing to say about Steph because their fights are too complicated and I don’t think they can be together in a fic without ignoring half their history, cramming too much angst or inserting some therapy and for some reason Gothamites are allergic to therapy (considering what happens with therapists and what they have to deal with, it’s understandable).

Last thing! Tim has non-hero/vigilante friends and I think they are relevant. The Fox family and maybe those assassins he befriended? His family is so caught up in their own drama that seeing him being normal with a bunch of unknowns should be enough of a shock. Also the League. That would be a fun conversation, especially with Damian.

Edit 16.06.2025: The assassins’ names, if I wasn’t misled in my five seconds of research, are Pru, Z and Owens (full names? I don’t know him). And here’s a post with Tim’s civilian friends:

Alright bye

[holyadoptionpapersbatman]

Wendolyn "Wendy" Jane

Here's a fic idea that I'll never be able to flesh out because I'm super burned out, but here's my take on a TimKon Clonebaby AU!!

***

So, when Tim was kicked out of the window, he didn't bother to call Kon because he thought the whole encounter he had with him was a hallucination. But, he's calm. And an extra thought he had as he fell was that his and Kon's clone-baby is secured with Martha Kent.

"I can't wait to meet you, Wendy," he says as he falls.

No one catches Tim.

Dick was too late.

Another family member he wasn't fast enough to catch.

***

Kon, Bart, Cassie and the rest of YJ had been devastated when they heard the news. Tim's body was going to be cremated, so chances of him being brought back to life by enemies would be nonexistent.

To comfort himself, Kon walks into the room Wendy had been lightly snoring in.

When Kon came back with Bart, he was surprised to see this baby in Ma's arms, wondering if he actually landed himself in an alternate dimension. But when Ma explained the circumstances of her birth, that Tim tried creating clones of him and Bart to bring them back into his life, Kon gently took the baby into his arms and wept. Then, he went to find Tim.

He didn't think Tim was crazy, but the whole time he was with him, Tim was definitely not in his right mind.

Now, Wendy won't know who her other dad was. Because Tim's gone.

But not completely gone.

Unlike Kon and Bart who left only memories of themselves, Tim left this child. She's not Tim, but she's made with all of his desperation and love.

Kon, after a few hours of mourning, vows to take care of her the best he could.

***

"Pa, why I haf two fiwst names?" Wendy asks one night as she's tucked into bed, after her first day of school. "An' why's my nickname Wendy?"

Kon chuckled. "Your nickname is Wendy because it's the name of my favorite character from my and your daddy's favorite show," he explained, also tucking in her favorite stuffed animal since she was a baby - a chubby, red duck called Mr. Duck. She immediately hugs it close to her and snuggles into its head. Mr. Duck gave out a hearty 'QUACK!' that sounds a lot like Tim's voice.

Kon's heart doesn't ache anymore. Just bursts with love.

Then, picking up the book, 'How to be a Pirate', Kon opens it and flips it to the bookmarked page, a new chapter of when Hiccup and the rest of the Hooligan boys discovers a coffin. This is the 19th time they're reading this book. And it will take 20 more times until they move on to the next book of the How to Train Your Dragon series.

"Your name 'Jane' is from your daddy's mom's name. Her name was 'Janet', and your dad was downright a mama's boy," he continued, causing Wendy to giggle.

"An' Daddy's name's Tim, wight?" she asked.

"Timothy, actually," said Kon. "Timothy Jackson Drake. He has a long name like you. But he likes being called Tim. Just Tim. Not Timmy. Not TJ. And definitely not Timberlina."

Wendy cackles loudly, kicking her legs up and repeating with her lisps Tim's funny 'Timberlina' nickname over and over.

Then, once she's done laughing, Kon starts reading.

The chapter isn't even over and his little girl, his and Tim's little girl, is already asleep.

***

There was a skateboard in the attic. It was right beside this box full of envelopes and journals handwritten by her late Dad, and it had some kind of engine at its base. It also had a whole bunch of scratches on its underside.

It's also one of the most beautiful things 12 years old Wendy had ever seen.

"Pa!" she shouts, running down the stairs to the kitchen, finding Aunt Pru and Aunt Cassie burning down her Pa's stove, like usual. She turns to her Pa who had his head in his hands, most likely trying to calculate how much he needs to buy himself a new stove. "Pa, can we buy me a skateboard?"

Aunt Pru smirks. "Tryin' ta' get cool with the boys, are we?"

Wendy rolls her eyes. Her? Getting cool with the boys? Not a chance. She couldn't fit in with anyone if she tried.

She's heard stories of her dad being able to become friends with anyone, from jocks to nerds. He wasn't popular, but people of all kinds just seem to be able to hang out with him with no trouble.

Not to mention, both of her dads looked unfairly handsome in their teens. It really wasn't fair when the beauty gene doesn't get passed down or genetically inputted into her. Ugh.

But, scratch that!

"Pa! Can we?? Buy a skateboard?"

Pa glanced to his stove. Then to Wendy.

It really wasn't a choice to begin with.

"Sure, I also know someone who could teach you," he said.

***

"YOU ACCIDENTALLY SENT MY DAUGHTER BACK TO THE PAST?!"

Bart rolled his eyes. "It wasn't an accident. She was meant to go for a little time-travel adventure!"

"Of course you'd know that," muttered Kon.

Away from them, Lizzie laughed. "I remember my time-travel adventure!" she said, ignoring Jon's deadpan stare towards her and Damian's completely subtle wince. "I got an A+ on my essay!!"

Kon ignored Lizzie and started pacing the floor. "Our timeline could be changing and we wouldn't even know it!"

"Thank you!" Jon said, throwing his hands up finally feeling validated.

Damian rolled his eyes. "We're fine, aren't we? The universe isn't getting destroyed or fading from existence. Additionally, Allan did mention she was meant to travel back in time."

Bart wiped a fake tear away from his eye. "Thanks, Dames."

Damian scoffed.

On Wendy's side, she was standing right in front of an abandoned warehouse in Paris. Or, to be more specific, an abandoned Lex Corp Cloning Facility.

She clutched the letter in her hand and stepped inside.

'I guess I'm illegally a Parisian,' thought Wendy as she walked through the creepy halls, further down into where the cloning tech could be.

Then, finally, she reached it, the big, green 'ATTEMPT 100 SUCCESS' glaring back at her.

Looking before the railings, she finds a familiar figure. One she's only seen in pictures. But, instead of the strong, smart and confident hero, she sees the most broken and saddest teenager in existence.

"Dad..." she calls, heartbroken.

Her dad's head snap's up, but he slowly stands protectively, clutching the bundle in his arms closer to his chest.

He takes one look at Wendy, and--

He...

He relaxes. He relaxes his hold. His stance. His everything.

He goes up to Wendy, a hand reaching out to gently caress her face.

"You have my mom's eyes," he said.

Wendy smiled back at him. "Yeah," she says, her voice almost a whisper.

"You have Kon's stupid smile, too."

Wendy rolls her eyes. "Pa keeps telling me it's your stupid smile, Dad."

Her Dad laughs. He's almost in disbelief. But.

"How are you here?" he asked.

Wendy opened her mouth, then carefully chose her words. "You left a letter for me. For my sixteenth birthday. I'm not going to get into detail what you wrote in it but, you said it was okay to tell you that you encouraged me to head to the past and--- here I am."

Her dad's brows scrunched together, the same way she saw in stolen pics how her own brows does.

"And you're okay to be in the same... vicinity as... your past self?" he asked.

Wendy nodded her head. "Uncle Damian told me so!"

Her dad laughed, bewildered. "Uncle Damian!?"

Wendy nodded. "He's an ass, but his heart is made of gold." She reached a hand out for her Dad to take. "I have so much family growing up, Dad. I... I have so much to tell you."

Nobody told Wendy how her Dad died. Or when he died. Just that he did.

So, lets her Dad take her to this apartment he rented. It was barely touched, there wasn't even the mess he was known for making. She guesses the mess was down at the clone labs.

But, once the both of them settled down, her dad changed into more comfortable clothing. And. It was almost like looking at a mirror.

Wendy's heart burst with emotion.

From there, they both exchanged stories of their lives until it turned morning.

She watched as how tenderly her Dad held her baby-self with the same love her Pa gave her. She longed for it. But. She couldn't stay any longer. She felt the timer Uncle Bart gave her vibrate in her pocket.

"I have to go back," she said.

Her dad nodded, gently laying her baby self in the middle of the bed. Then, he turned to her with his arms open wide.

Wendy took it. She hugged him back just as tightly.

Then, after a heartfelt goodbye, she left the apartment.

And then, she disappeared home.

[mariocki]

RIP Timothy West (20.10.1934 - 12.11.2024)

"We met when we were cast with small parts in that really boring play, so had both brought the crossword to stop us going mad. We saw each other across the rehearsal room doing it, so decided to sit together. Then we couldn’t record because of the strike one day so we went to the cinema, Pru and I, to see The Grass is Greener with Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr. The show was cancelled, but a bit later Pru sent me a card saying ‘they’re reviving that terrible play, are you in it?’ I wasn’t but we started writing to each other then."

"Humour is vital, and respect for what people do and what people think. Kindness is important, and we’ve always had the same humour, laughed at the same things, been interested in the same things, got cross about the same things. And been in the same business. We have often been away from each other work-wise and therefore we’re always very glad to see each other again."

[hanihazeljade]

Three Compliments

The disastrous day of Timothy Jackson Drake

(HHJ: I AM BACK! A LITTLE SLEEP DEPRIVED BUT NEVERTHELESS UPDATING THIS FIC! AND ALSO THIS FIC IS ALSO NOW IN AO3 FOR THE UPDATE ALERTS LMAO)

Start - Three Weeks

Prev - Three Pasts

Next - Three Sirens

It was such a lovely cold day on the 27th of December. The Wayne Manor was quietly sipping their morning beverage with a dash of bickering from Jason and Dick when a shout broke the peaceful vibe of the manor.

“Tamara Mildred Fox! I swear to god if you are using my lipstick, it is over! ”A loud voice breaks through the peace and calmness of the manor.

“It compliments my skin well.” A high-pitched voice answered back with a snort in the end.

“You are full of bullshit! I am pale as a sheet, and you are a buckwheat! ”

“Fine, it looks good on Pru though.”

A gasp was heard—an overly dramatic gasp. “What happened to bros before hoes?”

“Darling, I will choose Pru over you at any given time and day.”

“Such a lovely friend you are.”

Tim and Tam’s shouting match echoes through the halls of the east wing. After the Christmas Party, some people decide to stay at the overly large house of Batman and to sleep there, including the Fox’s. 

Tam was having a blast going through everything Tim had brought for the wedding. And she still couldn’t believe how much Tim could pack in one suitcase. There are three dresses, including Tim’s red Dior 1999 collection. There is a purple long gown with a high slit  and an olive green floral lace dress, and it was supposed to be floor length, but Tim made some adjustments to make the length to his ankle.

And with those dresses brought out from Tim’s suitcase, Tam wanted Tim to model those dresses, and with the help of Cass, who got wind of the situation in Tim's room, dragged Stephanie with her, and they decided to make Tim a mannequin.

Tim wants to say that he hated being dressed up and painted, but that was a big fat lie, as he was so relaxed having someone else to do the styling of his face and dresses. 

The night was such a beautiful memory for Tim, but the morning was not. It started when Tamara Fox decides to steal Tim’s favourite nude lipstick and decides to use the shade that looks atrocious with Tam’s skin colour. Colour Theory apparently. 

And that is how they got into their shouting match, with Tam and Tim laughing as they went out of manor to go shopping—what Tam said when Bruce asked where they would go. And that is a lie. Tim and Tam would go separate ways once they went to Wayne Enterprise. Tam would have her date with Pru; Tim is invited to hang out with them, but Tim rejects the idea of being third wheel. So, Tim just dropped Tam to be with Pru and will just find ways to entertain himself.

But it seems fate decided to spoil him a little when he saw Lex Luthor in the lobby of Wayne Enterprise and who Tim was to not grab the chance to mess around with his ex-archnemesis when it came to business back when he was the largest shareholder of Wayne Enterprise.

“Lex! It is so nice to see you here in Gotham!” Timothy greeted the bald man. Lex looks at him; a little bit of surprise and also amusement can be seen on his face if you know where to look.

“Timothy Drake, finally, someone that uses their head.” Lex grunted as he left the front desk and walked towards Tim. Timothy Jackson Drake to Lex Luthor is always has been a thorn in the side of LexCorp. However, Timothy Drake once was Wayne, is a refreshing sight in the business world. He might look young however has an mind of a veteran businessman. Lex was jealous of Wayne because he has the young Timothy as an heir and actually regret not snatching the young man when it was rumoured that Timothy left the company to hand it over to the youngest Wayne.

Lex might actually just have an heir if he just talked Timothy using this opportunity, Wayne already has a chance and yet he threw it away to the window, and who is Lex to not take that opportunity to have a wonderful and brilliant man to be his heir. And Conner and Tim has got along back everytime they met before.

Timothy immediately picked up Lex’s bad mood, “Why you seem so… annoyed Lex?” he asked the man.

“There has been a complication in scheduling for Wayne. It seems like they double-book, and I have to wait for yet another week.” 

“Want to have a coffee with me?” Tim proposes; after all, Timothy Drake and Lex Luthor have a rather pleasant relationship in terms of business appeal. Yes, they had a love-hate relationship when it came to stopping the other one from step into their territory, but it seems like Damian let Lex have reign in Gotham. A dumb decision in Tim’s opinion.

“Sure, since I am stuck here in this forsaken city without Mercy.” Now, normally Lex would not accept any invitations of anyone. But this city has been keeping up in it’s name and Lex has not anything going to his plan. Meeting Timothy is a nice surprise.

Timothy looked around and sure thing, Mercy, the bodyguard/secretary, is not with Lex. “Oh yeah, right. Where is Mercy?” he asked and he held out his arm as a gesture for Lex to follow him.

Luthor walked with him before answering, “She’s in the hotel, after she dropped me off at the Wayne Tower.”

“She needs to do something there? I barely remember seeing you without Mercy by your side.”

“Yes, she said she will handle the packing and as I have a flight to catch up in Rome.”

They arrive at the coffee shop and Tim ordered, “One banana soy frappe with a shot of espresso and extra whipped cream, and what is yours Lex?”

“One regular medium roast.” Lex curtly said and Tim just shrugged, internally judging the man to have such a basic palette. 

Timothy looked back at the cashier, “And one regular medium roast, please.”

“That will be $21.17.” The cashier said and Tim gave him his card and swipe it to pay both coffees. “Name please.”

“Timothy.” Tim said and lead Lex to a empty two seat table.

“It’s been so long since I saw you, Timothy.” Lex pathetic excuse of an ice breaker but Tim would not judge. Well, not openly, at least.

“Need peace with this city. A weekly prison break will not help me with my condition.” Timothy joked and chuckled.

Lex raised his brow, “I did not know you are sick.”

“Well, no. I am not that sick, just… burnout, I guess. My therapist told me that I should let go once in a while.” Timothy said as he tried his best to explain but also not give too much information to Lex, who knows what will Lex will do about it.

“You are seeking therapy?” Lex looked at him skeptically.

“Oh yes, apparently I was borderlining psychopathy and depression, apparently and I can’t have that.” Tim said as he knows it might be an information that a few knows, but he wants Lex to suddenly just slip it out if he was with the Waynes and just saw the chaos it will ensue and Tim would not be here if that happens.

“It seems like you did change. You are more free to said what is in your mind. Not unlike when you are handling Wayne’s company.”

“And here I thought, you hate that about me.”

“And I always told you that it was a likeable attitude of yours.”

“Hmm.”

And they let silence and the background to fill it, and then Tim’s name was called.

“Want to play chess?”

“Sure.”

[jennguyen-draws]

For @liverobinreaction the party’s not done ‘till the disco stops (and brother, we’re on repeat I've been rotating bug's interpretation of DE skills in my head for a while now and these are the first attempts at them + Authority. Bottom row are the original ones!

Anyway, here is me recommending this fic again to anyone who likes Tim Drake centric fics. I don't think you need to have played Disco Elysium to enjoy it but it definitely lends another layer to the enjoyment.

Ao3 summary:

He wakes up in a hotel room with no memory of who he is, why he’s here, or what he’s meant to be doing. All he’s got is an empty wallet, twenty-something voices arguing in his head, and a woman called Pru who insists she can help him get his memories back if he trusts her.This is so not disco.(Or: Tim gets amnesia during BruceQuest, and goes on the worst backpacking trip through Europe in history. Featuring Tim as Harry Du Bois, and Pru as the world's most reluctant Kim Kitsuragi.)

Other fanart for this fic: Choose your archetype (for Batfam Big Bang 2024) Smile for the cameras properly, timothy. Some random thoughts while working on these: - I want to work on achieving similar painting textures like in the original art since they really do help with cohesiveness of the series. - I'm not too satisfied with where Son of Gotham is yet. I think there is room to push the reinterpretation a little bit away from the original portrait. But I like the idea of finding a way of incorporating Gotham into the portrait. - Birds of a Feather includes Red Hood but not the new Robin because of the timing of Red Robin. I don't think Tim would have considered Damian part of the Gotham family until after his return from his travels.

[doomspiral]

hi first anon who asked abt historical pru posts and how much i love them i almost forgot to ask this. as someone who wants to start reading historical nonfiction books for fun, what would u recommend/what are some of ur favourites? and what resources do u use to find books to read? im not particular abt whether theyre considered beginner reads and stuff i just want to start a reading list. and if any of ur mutuals who like reading historical nonfiction have any recs id love them too!! thank u sm doom

Quick rundown is that you should keep in mind that this is research for writing fiction, and not research for academic writing or argument. The rules are different!

That said, when you get a source you should interrogate it while reading on what the bias is of the writer (where they're from, societal status, the tilt they put on their work because of their opinions, the time period, etc) and then afterward decide if they did a good job at what they set out to do (this is found in the forward or opening paragraphs of the work). A work that does not have any place to list their sources in some way is for entertainment only, and not to be used as any form of research, fiction writing or otherwise.

Places you can get these books is the internet archive, ebay, thriftbooks, abe books, local bookstores, used bookstores (if you can find a university or library that has one of these, you win), the library itself, or if all else fails you can go to a new book store.

Here are some of my suggestions:

The Reconstruction of Nations - Timothy Snyder Male Fantasies (volumes 1 and 2) - Klaus Theweleit Iron Kingdom - Christopher Clark Red Famine - Anne Applebaum The GDR - Jens Schöne

These aren't the only books I personally use, but they make for a good place to start :)

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

The Living Lie Still (And So Do The Dead)

by TerriWashere “You will do more than just survive, Timothy Drake.” Z stated, “I will make you something, something better.” “I don’t need to survive” Tim argued hollowly, “I need to find him and I don’t know how.” “Then we will help,” Z stared at him, dark skin gleaming under the torch-light, “and we will do whatever it takes to do so. That is our order.” “You’re ours now,” Pru agreed, “at least, for now.” Owens grinned, “Welcome to the League of Assassins, Tim.” Or Death is something no one can escape, especially Tim, who was born with the ability to see the dead. Now, he’s on a mission to find his foster father, Bruce Wayne, who’s assumed dead. But death never strays far and Ra’s Al Ghul is nipping at his heels. Words: 9293, Chapters: 3/?, Language: English Series: Part 2 of You Cannot Breathe Enough Before Death Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: Gen Characters: Tim Drake, Ra's al Ghul, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Prudence Wood, Zeddmore Washington, Owens (DCU) Relationships: Tim Drake & Owens & Zeddmore Washington & Prudence Wood, Tim Drake & Ra's al Ghul, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne Additional Tags: Tim Drake's Quest to Find Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake Sees Ghosts (DCU), Tim Drake Has Issues (DCU), Tim Drake Needs a Hug (DCU), Tim Drake is Not Robin (DCU), Tim Drake is Not Red Robin (DCU), The League of Assassins (DCU), Creepy Ra's al Ghul, Competent Tim Drake, Slavic mythology, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Good Parent Bruce Wayne, Protective Jason Todd, Protective Dick Grayson, Misunderstandings, Emotional Manipulation, Friendship, Uneasy Allies, Implied/Referenced Suicide, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Mental Instability, Tim Drake-centric (DCU), BAMF Tim Drake (DCU), No Beta we die like the authors will to live when she realized she made everyone bilingual via https://ift.tt/LHPgAz3

[paperhermits]

guys i just read thiss PHENOMENAL twitter fic from lemonlimemadness on ao3

so its titled ALT F4 the Timeline, and its a live-tweet scenario of gotham citizens watching as BRUCIE wayne beats Joker the FUCK U P. like demolishes him. literally had so much more unique humor than i was expecting, and i’m so glad to have stumbled upon lemonlimemadness' main fic of that series.

AND THE MAIN FIC OF THE SERIES is PEAK. so Tim somehow de-ages himself while getting Bruce back (y’know, classic Tim-Fic events) and does a whole thing for BRUTALLY killing off his public identity (YKNOW INSTEAD OF GETTING MGANN TO GET SHOT FOR HIM) and moving into the slums basically with Pru, and he's Literally 11 y/o. he’s a child. i don’t think we know his new identity's name yet?? but so he goes to Timothy Drake-Wayne's funeral where he had SPECIFIED. IN HIS WILL. to have CONDIMENT KING fuck every rich person up with sauces. it was phenomenal and glorious.

this one is Fatherless Behavior and its currently ongoing, literally was updated just a day or two ago. please if you live for crack treated semi-seriously, but still kinda seriously, than you need this. ESPECIALLY if Tim is one of your favorites

[thinkingimages]

The Whale's Eyelash: A Play in Five Acts – Timothy Prus – Archive of Modern Conflict

The great technological leap that took place in the 19th century in optical lens systems such as the microscope meant that by the latter half of the century the exploration of the microcosm was a common pursuit amongst the scientifically minded. Individuals often became interested in a particular area or theme and were able to add significantly to the existing body of knowledge in their subject. More than this, another universe and another dimension were opened up in which to dream and travel.

In The Whale’s Eyelash, Timothy Prus has edited together some of these historical explorations and recast them as a play – a play that unfolds through a series of 19th-century microscope slides. Each slide contains a specific dramatic moment, and together they tell a story about what happens between the appearance of humankind and its passing away.

[marigabicb]

Grandes adquisiciones para la colección en San Telmo.

Grandes adquisiciones para la colección en San Telmo.

Hoy es un día para celebrar, San Telmo Museoa anuncia la compra de 30 libros que vienen a enriquecer la colección. Se trata de primeras ediciones de grandes clásicos, como American Photographs de Walker Evans, Made in France de Richard Avedon, East 100th Street o Subway de Bruce Davidson o Les Americains de Robert Frank en la edición de Delpire de 1958. También el Life is good and good for you…

[francisgan]

347 snapshots of fun-loving, sexually incongruous and work-shy Nazis, which challenge the established perception of them being pure, unadulterated evil. The book, made to resemble a photo album, is historically significant and has been recognized as so during the 2008 Rencontres d’Arles.

[liverobinreaction]

Banshee In A Well Snippet

“You promised,” is the first thing Cass says to him, voice hoarse and accusatory. “You promised you’d be okay.”

“I am,” he tries to rasp out, and the way she tightens her grip feels like a warning, so he quickly corrects himself: “I thought I was.”

“You lied,” she says mournfully, “you lied, and I let you go.”

From where she’s tangled with him, he can’t see her face, but the minute shift of her shoulder tells him that she’s spiralling, and he quickly goes to pull away. She tries to tighten her hold, but he needs to look her in the face.

“Cass, I promise I thought I was okay,” he repeats, and she lets out a sigh so deep he can feel it in his bones.

“Lying,” she breathes out into his ear, “to me, to yourself, to everyone.”

And that-

Tim doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he finally admits, because that’s the crux of it; he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what’s the right thing to tell them, how he needs to react, how he convinces everyone that this is normal and always has been.

Cass just leans back in, tucking her head beneath his chin, and she holds him with a gentleness that makes his eyes sting.

“Words are hard,” she agrees, and he lets out a strangled chuckle.

Both of them stay quiet for a moment, neither quite sure how to continue.

Or, well, he does. Because Cass is Cass is Cass, and she is his sister before anything else.

“I think dying has been the one constant in my life,” he confesses into her hair, half hoping she won’t hear him. But she does. Of course she does, and she goes still at his words, chest hitching as she waits for him to continue.

And unlike the bitter torrent he threw at Bruce and Dick, unlike the caustic sarcasm he spewed to amuse Pru, unlike the clinical observations he noted down for himself and Ra’s, what begins to pour out of his chest hurts in a way he’s swallowed down since that first lungful of water.

“It’s normal,” he finds himself saying, “that’s the thing, it’s normal to me. And no-one’s ever asked before. No-one’s ever noticed unless I died in front of them, and even then it’s a toss-up, though to be fair, I actively try to prevent people from connecting the dots.

“I think a part of me actively wants to die, Cass,” spills out of his mouth, and he regrets it as she flinches against him, but he can’t stop. “And not in a permanent, suicidal depressed way, but like there’s some biological imperative that makes me seek out death over and over. Because what other explanation is there? I was five when I died the first time, and then I killed myself to test it. Multiple times. And even when I tried to avoid it, it still lingered in my mind.

“Why did I do that stuff? Why did I record it? Why do I still pull that shit, over and over, choosing death like it’s the easiest thing in the world?”

Cass is silent in his arms. But she doesn’t let go.

Instead, the room is disrupted by a clearing throat, and Tim’s eyes dart up, even as Cass stays still. Alfred stands there, wrinkles pronounced and voice hoarse as he speaks.

“If I may, Timothy?”

Cassandra doesn’t move to kick the older man out, not like she did with Bruce and Dick, and Alfred-

Well, Alfred is Alfred.

And so, Tim nods.

[timdrake-yumm]

Idk why anyone would pick Jason to be Stray (okay no, that’s a lie- he has the whole former thief and street kid thing going on, I get it), he has the completely wrong body type for it. Not to mention the fact that the whole reason he became Robin was because he got caught. Jason, as smart as he is, is more of an act first, think later type of guy, unless he wants to be dramatic and vengeful (see: Red Hood). He should stick to being a Crime Lord, it suits him.

The people with the best body types for Stray (in my opinion) are Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Wayne, and Tim Drake.

Now, Dick Grayson would make a wonderful Stray, if he weren’t such a show-off. He was born to be in the spotlight (literally, as he was born to famous circus performers). Is he capable of being stealthy and discrete? Absolutely! Is he happy being stealthy and discrete? Not really. It’d be better to let him be somewhere where he can shine and be a spectacle.

Stephanie Brown also has the whole “true Gotham blood” thing going for her, like Jason, but like Dick, I think she’s too loud. She’s not loud in the same way Dick is, but she’s loud nonetheless. I think her and Selina would get along great, but they wouldn’t work well as partners (side note- does anyone else think that Stephanie and Pru would make great friends?). If you took away the whole mind-games thing, I actually think her and Riddler run a similar vibe. Like, all Riddler really wants is someone to challenge him intellectually, right? He just wants Batman to solve his riddles! I think Steph would be similar if she were a rogue. Sure, she’d do the whole revenge thing with her dad, but after that, I think it would just be endless, harmless pranks on Batman.

Cass definitely has both the body type and skill to be Stray. She’d make a great Stray. She has neither the need nor desire to be in the spotlight, and she could go the whole Robin Hood route of stealing from the rich to give to the poor if she felt the need to redeem herself from her past actions under her sperm-donors influence (which she shouldn’t feel guilty for, in my opinion). The only reason I think it wouldn’t work out for her is because I honestly think she’d get bored. Cass is a fighter, not a thief, and while she’d make a very good thief, it simply wouldn’t satisfy her. (For that matter, I think Jason is the same way. Yes he was a thief, but that was really more out of necessity than actually enjoyment, which is why I don’t think he’d enjoy being Stray either). Cass needs to feel the flesh break beneath her fists, so to speak. (I also don’t think the Robin Hood shtick would satisfy her guilt either). Out of all of them, I think Cass is the one most likely to have eventually joined the Mission (and its rules) on her own, whether or not Batman was part of it. Not because she views killing in and of itself as bad, but because she’s probably sick of doing it but still wants to help people. It’s why Cass would be the best person to take over the mantle after Bruce.

Finally, Timothy Jackson Drake. I can see why some people might not think he would quite fit the mold of Selina’s apprentice. He’s already a trust-fund kid, why on earth would he become a thief? I believe the answer is simple: because he’d have fun. Tim isn’t a fighter, he’s a detective and a planner. Will and can he fight? Yes, and he can do so very well (Come on, he got trained by Lady Shiva and managed to beat/keep up with Ra’s al Ghul, of course he can fight). However, Tim has always enjoyed the hunt more than the actual capture. Each heist would be a new puzzle to solve, each escape an addictive shot of adrenaline. He found out the identities of Batman and Robin when he was 9 years old, and only went to Bruce to get trained after he saw his suicide campaign and Dick refused to return to help. He was content with just watching. Furthermore, he naturally has the skills to do it. He managed to follow and take pictures of Batman without getting caught for years! He may not be from the streets of Gotham like Jason and Steph, but he knows them just as well. I think he’d take a Robin Hood route to it as well. He admires heroes too much to steal for the sake of stealing, so I think he’d make an effort to only steal from certain types of people and help those he can.

Anywho, those are just my thoughts on Stray, feel free to let me know what you think!

[miss-choco-chips]

Twisted Soulmate shorts.

Listen, I do plan on making a sequel eventually, but in the meantime, can I tempt you with some half assed bits of Tim’s life as Ra’s Bonded/Bride/Unwilling Sugar baby? All in the spirit of putting off studying for my finals :D

~.~

“We need some ground rules”, Tim stated plainly, staring at the fiery hell in front of them. By his side, Ra’s sipped his wine glass, as cozy in front of all the destruction as one would standing by a fireplace. He looked ready to break out the s'mores. “Some Do’s and Do not’s, with penalties for each one we break. So, you know. We don’t completely destroy each other.”

“Be honest with me, Beloved, would that actually stop you from infringing damage to my properties?”

In the spirit of good sportsmanship, Tim actually thought about it for a few minutes.

~.~

Or; Tim elopes with Ra’s and commits to his role as the world’s most unimpressed, reluctant bride ‘soulmate’. Featuring Pru (who is having entirely too much fun), four little minions (whoever catches the reference and knows which fandom I stole them from gets brownie points) and absolutely no sign of any bats to spoil Tim’s fun.

~.~

~.~

The robe was green, and that was a problem. It wasn’t itchy, it wasn’t uncomfortable, it wasn’t restrictive.

But it was green.

Pru’s eyes found his in the mirror, a scowl and a smirk facing each other. Tim crossed his arms, the exquisite silk not even creasing, and his frown deepened. One of the robe’s sleeves covered him from shoulder to wrist, the other leaving the opposite limb completely bare. The intent was obvious enough, one mark on display, the others hidden away like dirty secrets. 

So why the need for that branding color? 

“Isn’t this excessive? Putting a collar on me may be easier, for his purpose.”

“Should I forward that idea to the Master?”

“Only if you want another punch to the nose.”

A snort, and Pru took the two steps keeping her at his back. Her hand dropped to his shoulder, and the expression on the assassin’s face changed to a far more serious one.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I could help you out of the base. Still owe you a few, we can call this one even for that time in Budapest.”

Tim’s scowl went away, a contemplative look on his eyes as they lowered to the ground.

“I’m not sure of anything nowadays, Pru. Except perhaps that I don’t want to wear this color.”

Her grip tightened for a second, two, three. Then, her eyes flew to the window and back to him before her next words came out, fake smirk back on place.

“Well then, the Master expects you to join him for breakfast. We’ll be moving bases soon, and I think he wanted to give you the tour before that.”

Tim’s eyes, that had followed hers to the window, stayed there, guarded and cold like they never were. He nodded.

“I’ll be there shortly. Just need to… fix my appearance a bit.”

She nodded, her smirk more sincere now, and left his bedchambers. 

The shadows jumped into the room before the door was even halfway closed.

A little over half an hour later, Ra’s Al Ghul looked up from the reports he was revising, cup of tea still untouched on the table, pastries and fruits perfectly distributed in front of him, to watch the Detective approach.

His robe was a curious maroon.

As if sensing his question, the young man took his place across from the Demon’s head, placid smile softening his features despite ice cold eyes boring into his.

“Oh, this?”, demurely, he raised the covered arm, accepting the coffee one of his servants provided. The sleeve slipped down enough to show three names on white skin, but Ra’s eyes strayed to the clothe. He knew that shade of brownish.

“I could have sworn I sent you green robes, Detective. I do wonder, where did you find a dye?”

“As I’m sure Pru can tell you, noses bleed a lot. On the bright side, you don’t have to worry about sending a clean up crew to tidy up my bedchambers. Nice morning workout, too, thank you.”

Amused despite himself, Ra’s threw his head back and laughed.

----.---

“We need some ground rules”, Tim stated plainly, staring at the fiery hell in front of them. By his side, Ra’s sipped his wine glass, as cozy in front of all the destruction as one would standing by a fireplace. He looked ready to break out the s'mores. “Some Do’s and Do not’s, with penalties for each one we break. So, you know. We don’t completely destroy each other.”

“Be honest with me, Beloved, would that actually stop you from infringing damage to my properties?”

In the spirit of good sportsmanship, Tim actually thought about it for a few minutes. “I mean, as long as you respect my boundaries, I won’t have a reason to show my displeasure.”

“And what about my boundaries? It’s only reasonable that for each rule you decide on, I get to demand one of my own making.”

“If they don’t conflict with mine, I guess I could learn to work around them. Considering what you do for a living, it’s not like you can ask for more.”

Ra’s tilted his head, as if saying ‘yeah, fair’. They watched the flames consuming one of Ra’s favored castles in silence for a while longer. The parisian authorities would be arriving soon, though no before they were ready to leave; Ra’s wouldn’t allow any interruptions. 

They were probably making the ninja standing guard behind them uncomfortable, with the silence, veiled threats and mind games. Except for Pru. She’d be thriving in her fellows’ fear. 

“Should we go somewhere more private to decide this rules, Timothy?”

A shake, long raven locks hitting the air like small whips, and the young hero turned on his heel to go back to the plane waiting for them.

“I need some time to think them over. I’ll let you know when I decide.”

---.---

Is the Demon’s Head, instead, who demands the first one.

“You will allow a squad of my people around you at all times, Detective, and you’ll let them tend to you as it’s becoming of my bride.”

“If you ever call me your bride again”, states the young man, calmly turning a page on the book he was reading, curled up in the armchair Ra’s had specifically made his men drag into his office for the sole purpose of tempting him into staying put and in Ra’s direct line of sight, “the next base I make go boom will be the one you’re in at that moment.”

“My soulmate.”

“Still creepy, but significantly less; I’ll accept it. What were you saying about bodyguards? The answer is no, by the way, but I thought it would be fair to let you explain your reasoning before shooting you down again.”

“I have no need for explaining myself; you were the one to suggest rules. This is merely the first one. As it is, and since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you that, as my bonded, you have a price in your head so high even the purest of heart man would be tempted to hunt you down. It’s merely for your safety, as I worry so.”

The dirty look the younger gives him over his book shows him exactly what he thinks of Ra’s obvious jab at his abilities and strength.

“There’s also the matter of your lack of sleep, or the blatant underweight you’re showing.”

“I don’t need a nanny nor a bodyguard, Ra’s.”

“Maybe so, but what would my enemies think of my power if I couldn’t spare a few men to protect my bonded? You can think of it as a political tactic, if it’ll lay your worries at rest. It won’t be to spy on you, as I already have a team dedicated to that.”

Not even a blink, of course he knew, he’d be an idiot to think Ra’s was giving him wiggle room without someone hounding his steps. A hum, the flicker of something behind the man’s eyes that put Ra’s instantly on guard, but not enough to help him predict his next movement.

“You know that any rule you make, I can counter with one of my own.”

“I do, and am ready to honor, as it’s the nature of our deal. I’m a man of my word.”

“Okay then”, the detective finally conceded, sitting up straight, book closed on his lap and hands resting easily over the cover. “I’ll accept your terms, and won’t give my future clique the slip.”

Despite this small victory, Ra’s didn’t allow himself to relax; now came the detective’s countermeasure.

Calmly as still water, the slim man stood up, walking towards Ra’s desk, opening the book on its first page and softly placing in on the wood between them. One slice of paper, carefully folded, gave the Demon’s Head pause.

“Since you insist this is for show, and thus not requiring specific skills on the ninja’s part, I’m going to choose who will be part of my clique. After all, I’ll be in perpetual close quarters with these people, it’s only fair I get to decide who it’ll be.”

Ra’s eyes never left the icy blue ones staring him down. It’d be a fatal mistake to let one’s sight wander when there was a viper in the room.

“Prudence is already tasked with managing your schedule, she can’t be considered among these you selected.”

“She isn’t”, was fired back. “These aren’t fully fledged ninja, they have just begun their training. As such, I can make sure their progress aligns with my needs, something that will make them more useful in the long run if they are to be my shadows. A sniper that can socially blend in as a perfect camaleon. A prodigy, both in mind games and the technological world. A mechanic well versed in a caregiver tasks. A naturally born fighter, showed proficiency particularly on swords and hand to hand. I think those four tick every box you might want to fill, don’t you?”

A few seconds pass, while Ra’s tries to think back on every newish recruit who had the described qualities. He couldn’t come with a single one. Too many variables.

Despite himself, he nods. His bonded lifts his hand from the desk, and picks up his book on his way to the door, not looking back while Ra's unfolds the list.

He feels himself freeze. 

“Children?”

Timothy has already left the room. Ra's can't help but feel pride. As foolish as he thinks his bonded's mission to be, he has to admire his dedication to it, and Timothy had just spent the equivalent of a Genie's first wish with the purpose of freeing four young ones from the League's training and future.

-----.-----

Tim is looking down at his three 'bodyguards', knowing he made the right call but still feeling the panic creeping up on him. Like, fuck, this was clearly an evil organization, as no self respecting moral one would allow him to be responsible of four impressionable, probably traumatized children.

L, P, H and K. 9, 7, 10 and 9 respectively. All sitting down, hands on their laps, eyes down. Ready to obey any order.

Fuck, he wanted to puke.

Breathing in deeply, he crouched in front of them. Tried for a smile. Too forced. Settled for a grimace.

“My name is Tim”, he started, “and you're safe with me. I'll train you, protect you from the League as much as possible, and try my best to help you escape if I find a better place for you.”

He doesn't bother lying for appearances sake. Ra's must know Tim's reasons for choosing children (too good, would be noticed soon by their teachers, would be under Ra's thumb sooner rather than later), but it didn't matter. Even if Tim managed to get them away, it was his right. For all intents and purposes, as far as the League was concerned, he owned them. Not that he was going to tell them that: if it made him sick to think that, he can only imagine that information on the children's minds. 

They don't seem to believe him, but answer honestly when asked questions about their past. L had (bravely, stupidly) sold himself into servitude to the League to help his family. P, apparently a smart cookie, was sold away by some scientific organization back home when she started asking too many question about the disappearance of her father and brother. One of H's mothers had left the League when she married, and her son was taken away as compensation in the middle of the night, when she couldn't fight back (luckily, as she'd have died and they would have still taken the kid). K was an orphan, sucked into the League too young, but saved by an older apprentice who took him under his wing: said boy was now missing, and K's obvious short fuse wouldn't stand for it long.

He wants to save these children so bad it hurts. Has to remind himself that whatever he will do about this (and he still has to think about it), he won't be able to do for a while.

----.----

He keeps some sort of schedule. Waking up in the morning, breakfast with Ra's unless previously canceled by the other man, training his new minions, break a fight between L and K, lunch, give them numerous tasks to get them off his back (keeping one close for appearances sake; they were his bodyguards after all, or would be after some training), wander along whichever base they were at the moment, tea with Ra's, picking up his brats, wander some more and some time for them to play like actual children, dinner, bed. Rinse repeat.

Some variations, however, were inevitable.

Groaning Tim rolled on his back, silken sheets under him and around his legs, to look at the four little heads waiting by his bedside, various degrees of alarm there.

“What is it?”

H's hand gripped tighter L's, who had the other arm wrapped around P. K was standing in front of them, dagger at the ready.

“The base is under attack. We await our instructions, Master.”

“Tim”, he reminded the child, before yawning.  “Who is it again?”

This time, the youngest and only girl talked. “We are not sure. Said something about The Demon's Head being their archenemy and/”

“Then it's a Ra's problem, not a Us problem. Let the man handle it, he has enough manpower as it is, and even if he doesn’t, he's due for a swim anytime now”, dropping his head and closing his eyes once again, he vaguely waved a hand in their general direction. “You guys go back to bed, just be careful and lock the door in case some of Ra's worst people let someone wander.”

“We can't possibly leave you! What if you're attacked? We'd be too far away to protect you!” K’s tiny hand tightened around his knife. “We'd fail our mission!”

Reigning in a groan, he gave it a thought. They had a point, in that were anything to happen, he risked not being close enough to keep the children safe. 

Sighing, he waved a hand again.

“Okay, you guys can stay, but we are not getting up. It's like five am, I went to sleep less than an hour ago.”

 P jumped in place and frowned at him. “We escorted you here right after dinner.”

“That you did. Anyway, cuddle piles anyone?”

L jumped right in, as he expected, worming his way under the sheets until he could cuddle to Tim's left side, dragging H behind him. P seemed to think about it, but if the dark circles under her eyes (and his informants) were to be trusted, she'd probably slept as much as him, most assuredly looking into her family's disappearance. She finally fell on his other side, instantly groaning.

K looked at all of them in disappointment, and stubbornly sat down behind P, his back to them and facing the door. Tim wondered what it would take to get the kid to chill.

Shrugging (you can't win them all), he went back to sleep.

By the time he really woke up, it was to an amused Pru holding hauntingly a camera and smirking down at him. All four kids were now cuddled around him.

“Shut up, Pru. Like you can talk. I saw you giving L that practice gun the other day, don't think I didn't.”