#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.

[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."

[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.

[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 :)

[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

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Timothy

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/lb2rmeo by AWarriorAtHeart1 As Tim rushes off to find proof that Bruce is in the time stream and needs rescuing, Timothy finds his own life uprooted and scattered in the wake. Feeling more alone than ever before, can these two come together again when they need it most? ~~~~~~~~~ Tim! Tim, what are you doing?! He doesn’t believe me-after everything-I’ll show him-THERAPIST in METROPOLIS-how could he?-Find proof-Bruce isn’t dead! Tim, calm down! Talk to me Tim, what’s going on? Timothy tried to barge into the front, to slow Tim’s tapping fingers, force him to breathe for once, but he was locked out. Tim was gatekeeping the body. He could only watch as Tim sent an e-mail stating he would be taking a leave of absence from Wayne Enterprises effective immediately, then booked himself a ticket to London. What are you doing-that’s mine! Timothy clawed his fingers across the bars. Wayne Enterprises is mine! No time for it-I have work to do, Robin…RED Robin work. The company will last with Lucius in charge, but who knows how long Bruce will? Tim brushed him aside as he shoved the last of his clothes into a duffel bag. He slung it over his shoulders and stood in his own windowsill. Words: 4072, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 10 of They're a family your honor. Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Tim Drake (DCU), Bruce Wayne Relationships: Tim Drake & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Brief Mention of:, pru, zedd - Freeform, Owens - Freeform, Minor Character Death, The League of Assassins (DCU), Tired Tim Drake, Tim Drake Has DID, Dissociation Identity Disorder, Tim Drake's Missing Spleen, is sadly a thing that still happens, Emotional Hurt/Comfort read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/lb2rmeo

[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.

[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.

[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.”

[mydeardeath]

Forever mine

TimDamiWeek day two : League of Assassins

Sorry for any mistakes, this was not proofread.

Also on AO3

¤

Tim is no longer a vigilante, not really. He still worked as the new oracle on a regular basis, but he was rarely on the street himself. Most of his time was dedicated to WE and to creating a better future. He had abandoned his role as CEO to work for the research department, putting his brain to good use. While most of his projects were for clean energy, he also worked on better equipment for the bats. 

It had been weird to hang up his cape, for him and the family. He had been the first one to abandon the R peacefully and chose his own replacement. He hadn't known Duke that well at the time, but he never regretted choosing him. The man had easily fit into the family, Bruce hadn't complained much, and Jason had been accepting of the new Robin.

A few years had passed since he had hung up the cap, and he had picked up his habit of following the dynamic duo at night. He did not indulge in it that often, but they were nights where he would climb on rooftops and watch the action from afar. Tonight had been one of those nights. Tim had finished his most recent project and had taken a few days off. He sat upon a building overlooking the diamond district, offering a great view of the fight going on below. It still amazed him to see Dick flying through the air, even after so many years spent working alongside the man.

A few months back, he would have been tempted to jump in to fight alongside Dick, but now he just appreciated the show. Dick is going up against a major threat, just kicking the ass of a few wannabe robbers.

The night is somewhat calm for Gotham, and Tim doesn't see the attack. One minute his eyes were on the street below, the next he's swaying dangerously on the roof's edge. He had barely time to regain his footing that another blow came to hit him in the back. He thankfully managed to avoid the next one and rolled back to a safer place.  It doesn't take long for his attacker to come at him again, but this time he's facing him. It took a split second for Tim to identify his opponent as League of assassins. His memory takes him back to his meetings with Pru, Z, and Owen. He had not hesitated to fight them. This man, even standing alone, seemed more dangerous than they were. It's obvious by his stance that the guy has proper training, but what made Tim anxious were his own abilities. Tim was still dangerous himself, but he imagined that this man trained more frequently than him recently. Probably studied Tim's fighting style before attacking him, knowing the level of preparation the league put behind its assassination attempts. Tim can't afford to make a mistake. Hell, he should call Bruce or someone, but he doubted the assassin would let him make a call or even reach for his phone. 

They danced around each other, exchanging a few blows. Tim could see that the man was holding back as if he was playing with his prey and waiting for him to get tired. He needed to find a way out of it, quickly.

His biggest hope might be to catch Dick he was still near him, but that would mean giving his back to that guy, and Tim didn't like that idea much. He still decided to attempt it. He packed a powerful punch toward his assailant before taking off to the next building's roof. Tim had never been the strongest in the family, but he was fast. He also had the advantage of having spent years on those rooftops and knew them better than this man. In the end, it didn't matter at all. The man didn't try to catch up to him, just threw a small knife to his leg that made him lose his balance. Then the man jumped after him. He was on Tim in no time, katana in hand. He managed to avoid the first slash but, soon, he felt the blade sliced through his skin. The wound wasn't deep, but the assassin kept going, covering his body in cuts. 

Tim retaliated with a few blows of his own or attempted to anyway. The man was more than good. He could read him so easily, and Tim stood even less chance as time passed as his movement became slower and sloppier while his assailant was moving with grace, dancing around him. Tim fell to the ground a few minutes later, hitting his head hard on the floor. He tried to stand, but a harsh blow to the head made his vision blur, and all he could do was try to crawl away. 

That was not how he had imagined dying. 

 ***

 Tim startled awake to the sound of his alarm clock. He attempted to reach for his phone, but searing pain stopped him midway. Yesterday's fights came back to him, and Tim wondered how he was still alive. It had looked like an assassination, not a kidnapping.

Tim slowly pushed himself in a sitting position in the bed, in arms straining under the effort of carrying his aching body. His wounds had been tended to and bandaged. Some painkillers were even waiting for him on the nightstand, next to his phone and some clean clothes.

Somebody had taken him to what seemed to be a hotel suite and taken care of him. Whoever it had been, wasn't part of their family or they would have taken him to the batcave. It didn't seem that Tim would have an answer quite yet about his mysterious savior. He couldn't hear a sound in the suite, and unless his savior was hiding, he was completely alone.

Tim didn't want to stay in bed too long and force himself up despite his body's protests. He needed to inform Bruce of what had happened. He wasn't a fool, the league didn't like to leave jobs unfinished, and the whole fiasco of the previous was proof enough that Tim couldn't protect himself from that threat. The realization had not been pleasant. But keeping in shape was apparently not enough, not against that kind of opponent.

Once he managed to gather the energy to get dressed and inspect the room(to no avail, there was no clue of who had brought him here), he hailed a taxi to drive to the manor. He was far too tired to make the trip to his own house and take his car.

Tim hoped that the driver hadn't recognized him, he didn't need to make the front page while looking beaten up. That would be hard to explain to the press, and Tim still didn't like dealing with them despite how many times he had to. 

Tim gave him a good tip before exiting the car, hoping he would keep silent about dropping off a beaten up man at Wayne Manor. Then he made his way to the front door where Alfred had appeared. The butler led him straight to the medbay with a somber expression. He knew that Tim wasn't the kind to get in a fight. That was not supposed to happen to him now that he was retired.

The cave was empty at this hour. Bruce was probably sound asleep at this hour, and nobody else was living at the manor nowadays. Tim let Alfred examine him in silence, still tired and preferring to wait for Bruce to start speaking. He was sure to get a thorough interrogation, so he didn't see the need to tell Alfred every detail right now, simply informing him that it was the league of assassins.

Tim was glad to learn that he didn't have any kind of internal injury. He had hit the ground pretty hard, but he was not concussed. The only problem Tim could have to face now was septicemia because of his weaker immune system. Alfred would keep an eye on him to check he didn't forget his medication, and that would give even more of an excuse to make him stay at the manor for a while.

 ***

 Tim couldn't shake off the feeling that he was being watched. He had already checked his room twice for cameras, and even though he had found none, he still felt observed. It was hard to tell if the presence if was feeling was a friendly one, watching his back, or an enemy waiting to strike him down.

He knew that Bruce was worried about the league of assassins. Batman hadn't run into Ra's Al Ghul in a while, and Bruce couldn't decipher why he would send his men after Tim now. Tim's works with Wayne Enterprise didn't interfere with any of the league business. There was nothing he could think of that would explain the sudden interest in Tim.

Everyone was worried about him. Bruce had demanded that Cass came home. She was by far the best fighter in the family and had been assigned as his unofficial bodyguard. Wherever he went, she was never far.

Usually, Tim would appreciate the time spent in her company, but he could tell she was tense. She was better at hiding than most, but they had known each other for a while, and Tim had been getting good at reading her microexpressions. 

Not that Tim was faring better. Barely a day after he had gotten to the manor, he had received a gift elegantly wrapped. Bruce had been the one to open it in the batcave, not trusting a mysterious package arriving shortly after the attack.

The box hadn't exploded as they opened or anything of the kind. It simply held a dagger on a velvet pad. A very ancient and beautiful one, that was still sharp and ready to use. Guessing the origin of the dagger wasn't a hardship, especially considering the note that accompanied it. "You should always be prepared, Timothy."

That was a warning, Tim was sure. The assassin was playing with him. He wanted Tim to offer a bit more of a challenge. 

Bruce had taken the note and analyze it thoroughly, from the type of paper to the handwriting. It was a lot of effort for nothing. It was unlikely that any of Ra's assassins would be in the cave database. Bruce didn't like not knowing why Tim was suddenly targeted by the league and not being able to predict when the next attack would come.

The next days passed in a tense atmosphere. Tim tried to relax and appreciate the time he got off work, but there were always shadows or doors creaking that made him jump to his feet, ready to fight for his life. That was not the greatest time off Tim could have had.

Tim was glad to be back at his office, finally able to take his mind off the attack to concentrate on his work, even if it meant waking up thirty minutes earlier than usual to put on make-up to cover his bruises.

Tim smiled at his secretary as if he was perfectly rested and had an awesome time during his break. She returned it with a knowing smile as if she was on a secret. Tim was pretty dumbfounded. He didn't think he had fooled her enough that she would actually think he had had that sort of fun while he was away. She seemed pretty excited nonetheless and Tim finally understood why when he entered his office. There was a beautiful bouquet of red tulips waiting for him in his office. Tim wasn't an expert when it came to the language of flower but it was pretty sure that red was the color of passion or something like that. It was doubtful that it was the company or a client sending it to him to say "good job".

Tim dismissed his secretary and gave a suspicious glare at the flowers. He had not been on a date in a while or even flirted with anyone recently. There was no reason for him to receive such a thing. Tim was almost tempted to send the flowers to be analyzed in case there were hiding poisonous spores but he would most likely pass as a madman to his employees. Still, he put in a far corner of the room, near the windows with the prepared excuse that flowers needed the sun to thrive. In a few days, it would be deemed acceptable for him to throw them away without generating gossip about him turning down an affectionate lover.

Tim spent most of his time working in the labs instead of his office, all to avoid the bouquet. Maybe he was just paranoid, but he preferred to be careful. Plus, that allowed him to also avoid his secretary who seemed to make him want to spill interesting details so that she could report them to the rest of the employees. Not that there was any to give. Tim just preferred to avoid the subject.

 ***

 A week after he had gone back to work, Bruce deemed it safe enough for him to go back to his own loft. Alfred had dropped off some casseroles while Tim was still in his office, so Tim could sink onto his couch to eat a delicious meal while watching some shitty tv show.

It's only the following morning that he noticed the flowers in his room. A bouquet of purple hyacinth this time, according to the quick search he made. 

Somehow, he doubted those had been from Alfred too. There was a note accompanying it this time, still handwritten in the same beautiful calligraphy. "Please accept my sincerest apologies, Timothy."

That had Tim wondering. Had the assassin not been sent by Ra's? He hadn't thought of one of Ra's agent going rogue. It could explain why he had never come back. Betraying Ra's often meant death.

Ra's Al Ghul wasn't the kind to lie, not like that anyway. If he had been the one threatening Tim's life, he wouldn't have tried to pretend otherwise. And the man did have a weird obsession with Tim at some point that could explain the tulips.

Tim wasn't one hundred percent sure that his life was no longer in danger, but he did finally start to relax.

Three weeks after the initial attack, Tim's peace was once again shattered. It was a different assassin this time. Not one trained by the league or with any real experience, Tim was sure of it as the man started to taunt him instead of doing his job, telling him how much money he would make from killing him and what he would do with that much in his pocket. His obvious excitation was short-lived as a bullet pierced his skull right in front of Tim. Tim saw the man's eyes widen suddenly in stupor just before he fell to the ground, lifeless.

Assassins were a daily occurrence after that, Tim having up to three attempts to his life in the span of twenty-four hours. Not that Tim expected anything else when he learned how much his head was worth. It seemed that if Ra's hadn't been behind the first attempt to his life, then it had given him an idea. 

Weirdly enough, it seemed that all his attackers were taken down by the league's own agents before they could do any harm to him. It was as if Ra's was trying to eliminate all competition. But, Tim hardly understood why he had to be involved in that business.

It went on for weeks. Weeks spent worrying about an attack that may never come. Tim didn't understand why the league was stalling this much to finish the job. So he decided to finally act instead of waiting for assassins to attack again.

Without warning anyone of his intentions, Tim boarded a plane headed to Ra's latest known location. The probability that the man was still in a known base was very low, but Tim would try nonetheless. 

Tim hesitated once he landed. He didn't have much of a plan, beyond demanding an audience with Ra's. He could be killed as soon as he crossed the threshold, and none would be the wiser. Tim wondered if he had really been the smarter Robin once upon a time, sure didn't felt like it now.

Tim took a hesitant step out of the plane before steeling himself. Showing weakness would do him no good, the least he could do was appear confident.

Guards watched him climb up the stairs without a word, not showing any signs that they would try to stop him even going as far as opening the door for him, slightly bowing as he passed. Tim's face was blank, seeming emotionless, but he was freaking out. It was almost as if his arrival had been expected, awaited even.

The White Ghost himself came to greet Tim quickly. It was yet another one. Ra's had gone through a few in past years. None had last long since his son's death.

Tim was lead to a grand room where a man that on a throne. The first thought when Tim's eyes felt on him was that the man looked regal in his green robe.  The second he said aloud: "You're not Ra's Al Ghul." 

The man seemed familiar even if Tim couldn't pinpoint from where, but not the leader of the league Tim knew. Definitely too young, the pit never made Ra's rejuvenated that way. Could be that Ra's soul had been transferred to a new body. He really hoped not.

"Ra's Al Ghul is the title of the one leading the League of Assassins, which I am. The man that preceded me is dead. For good."

"Did you kill him?" The question was out of Tim's mouth before he could stop himself. But the man didn't seem offended by the accusation.

"I did. Grandfather wanted to use my body as a vessel for himself. I choose to take his empire instead. It was my birthright, after all."

"You are Talia's son." They hadn't been aware that the Al Ghul family had expended. Tim hoped that hadn't been done with just the idea to provide a new body to Ra's. That would be twisted and horrible for the guy to be born for that sole purpose. And despite the moral instilled by his mentor, Tim found it hard to condemn Ra's murder.

"And Bruce's. I think you know my father rather well."

"What?"

Tim was having a hard time processing that bit of information. The man didn't seem to be lying, but how could the 'greatest detective' have ignored that bit of information.

"I believe you did not come to talk of my lineage, Timothy. I would like to reiterate my apology for hurting you the first time we met."

"That was you?"

"I'm afraid that yes. I had just taken control of the league, and I wanted to consolidate my power by eliminating all that Grandfather had seen as potential successors. Thankfully I saw your mark before my mistake became irreparable. I see now that you are not a threat to my reign. I will never again cause you harm. And I doubt any other will after all that tried in the last few weeks and failed. The world must have gotten my message."

"I'm not quite sure I understand."

The man stood to cross most of the distance separating him from Tim, stopping only a few feet away. His face only showed determination as he took the hem of his clothes in his hands and started to divest.

"Ra's." Tim stammered out, not quite knowing how to refer to the man.

"You may call me Damian, habibi." 

Tim didn't react to the pet name, his eyes fixated on his mark adorning Damian's skin. Their soulmark.

Tim gaped inelegantly, short of words to express his emotion. He was beyond shocked. He hadn't given much thought to his mark in years. Not many had one, and finding one's match was rare as most people preferred to ignore it to make their own choices.

"I would like to offer you a place at my side to lead the league."

Tim was about to answer but Damian shushed him.

"Do not think of what the league had done so far, but what you could do with its many resources. Take your time to think about it. I will in Gotham in a few days, you can tell me your answer over a date."

Damian escorted back to his plan, bidding his goodbye to Tim with a single blossom of red salvia. A token of his intentions.

Tim was quite relieved that Damian didn't insist he stay longer. He had a lot to think about and some time alone would do him some good.

A true partner of Batman should have said no right away, but Tim saw all the possibilities, all the changes he could bring to the world with the league shaped to his image. The proposition was tempting and Tim was already making plans in his mind.

Tim wasn't quite sure what to make of Damian. The man's apparent desire to date, since he was not based on anything relevant. But Tim's love's life had been non-existent since Tam and he could admit that sometimes he got pretty lonely. He could even admit that Damian was easy on the eyes when he wasn't trying to kill him. It wouldn't hurt to go on a date. 

The only problems were Damian's role as the leader of a criminal organization that his family had often fought against. And that he was Bruce's son.

Tim rolled the flower between his fingers, a soft smile on his face. For once, he would take time to enjoy his life and worry later. He didn't have to tell anything to his mentor and let Damian deal with it when the time came. It sounded like a good plan.

[awhitehead17]

Universal Signs

Chapter 18 / Previous Chapter 

A/N:  WARNINGS this chapter contains descriptions of torture, injuries and violence. It's not overly graphic but is more so than previous chapters. The descriptions are scattered throughout the chapter, especially at the start so please be aware!

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

Every time the leather rope connects with his skin a gut-wrenching scream escapes past his lips. The pain it leaves behind sets his body on fire, making every muscle recoil in tension, it becomes increasingly difficult to breathe, it’s practically impossible to focus on anything else other than the stinging sensation blossoming across his back.

This has been happening for quite some time now. He has no idea for how long but he just wants it to be over. No matter how much he pleads for it to stop, it never does.

Everything hurts. He’s been in pain before, has endured so much in the past, but none of that compares to what he’s experiencing now. There’s a very brief moment in between each strike that gives him a chance to suck in a shaky breath, however it’s shorted lived because the rope collides with his skin seconds later, making him cry out again.

A very distant part of his brain is thankful that the worst of the pain is centred across his back and shoulders because then at least it wasn’t somewhere like his face. In spite of those thoughts, they do nothing to help ease anything that’s actually happening in that moment.

The rope strikes again causing a new level of pain to blossom. He could feel the rawness of his skin, he could feel how wetness drips down his back, causing the wounds to sting more than what they already were. Whether that wetness was sweat or blood, Tim has no idea.

There’s several long moments and Tim just waits for the next strike to occur. When it doesn’t happen he refuses to let himself relax. The last time he relaxed his muscles when there had been an irregular pause between the strikes Tim had foolishly thought his torture was over, he was certainly proven wrong because the moment Tim let his muscles relax the strikes started back up and were relentless.

Even with his pain addled brain, Tim wasn’t falling for the same thing twice. The moment drags on but nothing happens. Tim could hear his raspy breaths as he struggles to get oxygen back into his body, he could feel the way his muscles were trembling with exhaustion. Much to his displeasure there wasn’t a lot he could do about it except accept it.

The next touch on his skin didn’t come from the leather rope like he had been expecting but rather from who had been torturing him the entire time. A hand roughly grabs his chin and yanks his head up. Tim’s barely able to open his eyes, his vision is blurred and the bright lights make his head pound but somehow he makes out the figure in front of him to be Ra’s Al Ghul.

“Well Timothy, it looks like this session is being cut short much to my displeasure. It is fairly fascinating to hear what kinds of sounds you make. There is some urgent business that I need to take care of. We’ll continue this soon.”

With no more words Ra’s drops his face and moves away from Tim. It’s only when he disappears from his sight that Tim finally lets himself relax, well as much as he could considering how much agony his muscles are currently in.

He becomes alert and automatically clenches his abused muscles when he detects another presence nearby. They don’t touch him, which Tim is thankful for, though he soon changes his mind when he’s suddenly colliding with the ground. He’s knocked breathless as he lands on his stomach and whimpers when pain shoots through his body, making every nerve feel like it’s on fire.

It takes a moment but he works out that the unknown presence had cut him down from where he had been hanging from the ceiling. The rope is still wrapped around his wrists, with his fingers clenching it as if it’s a lifeline and he feels his legs being manhandled around. They must be unlocking the chains that had strapped down his ankles.

There's more movement behind him and Tim finds it difficult to focus on it. He presses his head into the floor, clenching his eyes shut as the pain pulses throughout his body, it’s very distracting and makes it hard to focus on his surroundings.

The next thing he becomes aware of is the wind being knocked out of him for a second time. Tim lands against something solid but hardly has the energy left in him to work out what happened. The best he could do is simply lie on the ground helplessly as he tries to find the energy within himself in order to do something.

After taking a few deep breaths he lifts his head up off the ground and groggily looks around. It takes a lot longer than it should have but he eventually recognises the room as the cell that he’s been  recently staying in. He’s on the floor in the middle of it, in god knows what condition.

Once he worked out his location, Tim drops his head back down and lets his mind drift. He doesn’t have the energy to do much else and the headache raging through his skull makes it difficult to focus on anything. His body feels like it’s made of lead, he probably wouldn’t be able to move a limb no matter how hard he tries.

Tim’s roused from his pitiful sleep as a sharp stinging sensation spreads across his back. He lets out a hiss and tries to jerk away from it. He doesn’t want more pain. What are they doing to him now? Haven’t they done enough?

A heavy weight settles across his shoulders which keeps him in place along with a voice snapping at him sharply. “Don’t move.”

Tim stops moving, only letting out a whimper in protest. He turns his head enough to see who it is and finds the female from before who has previously patched up his wounds after Ra’s previous torture sessions.

“Wha – what are you doing?” He asks openly wincing as he does so, his throat feels raw and dry. When was the last time he had something to drink?

“You know what they say about humans? That humans are a high maintenance species.” She says conversationally, though she clearly wasn’t expecting a response from him because she continues to talk. “You really are proving those sayings correct. You’re so weak and fragile. You have no special abilities, you get wounded easily, you have to rest and sleep so often, be fed and hydrated so your bodies don’t give out.”

Tim feels something cold be put on his back and he flinches at the touch and then hisses when it suddenly starts stinging again. He lifts his hand to try and smack her away from him but she simply grabs his arm and forces down to the ground.

“Stop it. It’s an agent that’ll help with the healing. Your wounds cover majority of your back, some of the slashes have split your skin and are bleeding. I had to clean your back first before applying this, it’ll help close the wounds quicker.”

While he understands the reason behind the stinging, it doesn’t mean he has to like it. He grits his teeth and clenches his fists as he bares it. At least, he reasons with himself, she isn’t making it any worse

“He fucking whipped me.” Tim mumbles into the ground. He’s still lying on the floor while she continues treating his back.

“You’re fortunate that’s all you got. Being whipped like that is in fact a mild punishment, especially from the Demon’s Head.”

Tim frowns, he wants to question on how it could be any worse but stops himself from doing so. He doesn’t think he wants to know the answer.

They fall silent and Tim goes back to assessing his body. The healing cream must already be working because while his body still feels like it’s made of lead and his head is still pounding, the stinging has now dulled down leaving behind only achiness.

His back and shoulders, the main source of the pain, had been abused by a whip. His wrists and ankles were sore from where they had been tightly restrained by ropes and chains. His face is bruised and swollen from where he had been roughed up before the whipping. Then there’s his chest which feels tight, his lungs having overworked during the torture to help Tim breathe through it.

An overall summary would be is that he feels like shit.

He realises that he’s starting to get cold now too. He’s lying on the floor practically naked except for a pair of boxers which covers his modesty. He had been stripped down just before getting restrained and hung up for the whipping. Of course whipping bare skin had more of an effect than whipping fabric.

“That’s all I can do for you for now. You’re lucky he’s even letting you be treated.” She says behind him, getting his attention.

Tim snorts. “He doesn’t want his pet to too damaged then.” He sighs and looks over his shoulders as much as he could. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

She stares at him for a moment and Tim can’t work out what she’s thinking through her unreadable expression. After a moment, she shakes her head and stands up. “I’ll grab you some new clothing, do not move around too much. I will not re-cover your wounds if you dislodge any of the bandages while I’m gone.”

She starts heading for the door but it’s then that Tim remembers something. “Hey, wait,” she turns around at his call, “what’s your name? You’ve treated me a few times and I don’t know what you’re called.”

She knocks on the cell’s door. “It’s Pru.” When the door opens up she slides out like she had never been there at all. The door slams shut and once again Tim is left alone in the silence of his cell.

While on his own Tim doesn’t do much. He shifts around carefully on the ground until he’s somewhat more comfortable. He did try sitting up at one point but the strain the position had put on his back had proved to be too much so Tim settled for staying in a horizontal position finding it the least painful.

Gradually the pain recedes from his body and Tim believes that’s the healing cream’s doing. That or he just become numb to everything. It reminds him of the time when the others had used the same thing after he had been attacked by one of those Galavent monkey things. Jesus that feels like it was such long time ago.

With that in mind, and with nothing else to occupy himself, Tim’s reoccurring thoughts make an appearance. How long has it been since he’s been in space? How long has it been since he was taken away from his brothers?

He wishes he knew but not once has he been able to keep track of any sort of time since being away from Earth. Has it been years? Months? Days? He’s terrified to find out. Tim doesn’t feel any older but that means very little. Will he ever get back to Earth and if he does return will things still be the same?

He just wants this nightmare to be over.

Tim contemplates in his thoughts for a long time, he may have also drifted off to sleep but he doesn’t know for certain. How ever long it has been, Tim’s never-ending train of thoughts finally come to an end when the door to his cell cranks open. He watches it with interest, wondering who may enter through the gap, whether that be Pru or Ra’s. It really wasn’t in question which one he hopes it would be.

To his delight it’s Pru who steps into his cell, however in the most unexpected way. With her back to him, Pru’s dragging something that appears to be heavy into the cell. Tim watches with disbelief as she settles it half in and half out of the door, almost like using it as a door stop. When she steps away Tim finds that it’s body. A dead body. Which is heavily bleeding from the neck and is now leaving a large size puddle of blood on the floor.

Instant panic washes over Tim, had he been wrong this entire time? Will she just straight up kill him? Why go through all the trouble of treating him only to off him in the end anyway?

As Pru steps towards him Tim couldn’t help but flinch. He has no idea what she’s up to, how can he even trust her?

Not noticing his reaction Pru continues forward and crouches down in front of him. It doesn’t escape Tim’s notices that her dark uniform is painted with splatters of blood, and now that she’s close enough he gets a hint of a rustic iron smell.

“We need to go.” She tells him with no room for questions. “Get changed and we need to leave, now.”

She dumps a bag on the floor and throws out different bits of fabric at him. Tim lets out a sigh of relief and marginally relaxes. At least she wasn’t going to kill him. Now that’s out the way, her words come to the front of his mind and the pressing way she said them.

“What’s going on?” Tim asks as he starts to push himself up into a sitting position. His body protests at the action but Tim forces himself through it, whatever is happening it’s big and he needs to not be any weaker than what he already is.

Apparently he’s taking too long to get his ass in gear because Pru huffs in annoyance and reaches forward to grab him by the under arms and jerks him upright, taking no care whatsoever. Tim lets out a hiss but it goes ignored.

Clearly deciding that he was no longer capable of getting himself ready Pru grabs one of the fabric pieces she threw at him and yanks it over his head and his arms through the holes. His legs get a similar experience as she forcibly dresses him in some sweatpants.

“Now that’s done, we have to go.” She urges him.

Tim watches in bafflement as she makes her way to the door, avoiding the dead body as she goes and leaves the cell.

“Tim!”

“Okay, okay,” Tim mutters to himself feeling like a child. Using the wall as a guide Tim gets himself up to his feet and begins to take unsteady steps towards the door. From where his body is still weak and recovering, his legs almost buckle underneath him but he keeps going.

He cautiously steps over the body holding the door open and into the corridor outside of his cell. As he leaves he’s greeted with another two lifeless bodies sprawled out on the floor, each with their throats slit and blood pooling underneath them. The sight and smell makes Tim want to gag. It’s not his first time seeing dead bodies but it doesn’t make it any easier.

Slightly ahead of him, Pru stands surveying the surroundings completely unperturbed by the scene. Tim staggers down the corridor towards her, precisely avoiding the blood as he goes because he’s currently bare foot and really doesn’t want it touching his skin.

Once he reaches her he has to stop and take a deep breath. “Wait there.” Pru orders him as she wonders back down the corridor. Tim wasn’t going anywhere, he’s already knackered and he hasn’t even gone that far yet. He watches as she moves the body that’s acting as a door stop out of the way so the door could finally shut. Once that’s done she comes back over to him.

“Did you kill them?” He asks breathlessly. She shoots him a look which Tim deciphers as ‘are you fucking stupid? Unimpressed, Tim huffs, “You can’t just go around killing people!”

“Things die all the time. If I hadn’t of killed them they would report back to the Demon’s Head. If they’re dead they can’t talk. Simple. If anyone comes across them then they would think it was a challenge gone wrong. It really isn’t unusual to come across a dead body onboard. Now come on.”

With that disturbing thought, Tim stumbles along behind Pru as they make their way through the corridors of the ship. While Tim found it odd, he was grateful that they don’t come across anyone as they travel.

After many twists and turns Tim’s feeling even more tired than before and his body is more than ready to give out. He heaves in a deep breath and slumps against the wall. “What’s going on Pru?”

“We’re almost there.” The assassin replies without answering his question.

With great effort Tim pushes himself and continues to stumble along, using the wall for his balance. They come up to another corner and Pru waits at the edge. She holds out a finger to him and Tim gets the message, he’s more than happy to wait and catch his breath.

She darts around the corner and Tim listens as a shout could be heard followed by a loud gasp then a thud. It didn’t take much brain power to work out that Pru just killed someone. Tim couldn’t believe this is his life now, something that’s so inhumane becoming normal.

“Tim.”

Tim’s broken out of his thought at the sound of his name, figuring it’s safe to do so, he makes his way around the corner and isn’t surprised to see Pru standing over a dead body. As he walks towards her she opens up a door in front of her and waits for Tim to get there before ushering him inside. He’s too busy trying to avoid the blood to really pay attention to what he’s walking into.

“Rao, Tim. What happened to you?”

Forgetting about the blood and the dead bodies, Tim’s head snaps up at the sound of that voice. He stares in disbelief when he finds a group of mostly familiar people in front of him. He blinks again, wondering if he really had lost his mind back in the cell and that he’s now hallucinating all of this up.

“Kon?” He questions quietly. His eyes gaze over the familiar figure before moving to the others other’s. “Cassie? Bart? What are you… how are you… what?”

He looks back at Pru to find her guarding the door, keeping it open slightly with her foot but otherwise not moving.

Kon steps forwards, his eyes raking up and down Tim’s body obviously taking in his beaten form. He stops when he’s in front of Tim, looking at him with a mixture of concern and uncertainty.

Tim couldn’t believe it. How are they here? Why are they here? He’s happy to see them of course but there are so many emotions and thoughts running through his mind that he really couldn’t comprehend them all.

Last time he saw them, Kon had been dying from being stabbed and Bart had been unconscious. Ra’s made it clear that this team weren’t supposed to live but yet here they were. And they’ve come all this way, risking themselves even further for him. Tim’s stunned by their commitment, he really couldn’t believe it.

Unable to help himself, Tim lunges forward and wraps his arms around Kon’s shoulders in a hug. He’s so grateful that he’s alive. Kon seems surprised by the action and even stumbles against the additional weight but he gets his footing. After a moment he hugs Tim back, but it’s that action that has Tim hissing and arching away.

“Tim!”

Tim steps back and offers a weak smile, trying to get past the pain throbbing throughout his body. “Just a little sore Kon. It’s not exactly been a pleasant stay here.”

He turns towards Bart and Cassie to also greet them in a similar manner but Pru’s voice cutting through the room stops him from doing so.

“Yeah that’s great and all, but the happy reunion is going to have to wait. You need to get going now if you want any chance of getting off this ship alive.”

Right of course, despite his friends sudden appearance, they’re still aboard a ship full of assassins. Without waiting Pru leaves the room and is immediately followed by the two figures that Tim doesn’t recognise.

Bart grins at him, offering him a salute before reaching up to the collar of the uniform he’s wearing. Tim watches mystified by the way his face changes as it shifts to become someone else. He doesn’t recognise Bart at all, he now looks like another assassin on the ship.

Bart leaves the cell next and Tim slowly follows after him. His body is still sore but he thinks with the knowledge that his friends are there with him and how there’s a possible chance he could get away from this ship, he can push himself through the pain. Cassie and Kon follow behind him.

Pru leads the group down various of corridors. A quick chat amongst themselves informs them all that there’s a ship waiting for them, which Bart and the unknown’s arrived on, in the docking bay of the spaceship. It’s located at the far back, away from the more populated areas of the location. The assassin nods her head and tells them she can guide them all that way using the less populated corridors, therefore narrowing down the chance of being discovered.

Tim knows that they’ll be found at some point. It’s inevitable and it’s simply a matter of when. Hopefully they’ll safely be on the ship by the time that happens.

It nearly happens straight away. After turning around a corner, they bump into a cluster of assassins standing around doing who knows what when they aren’t busy killing things. Thankfully they seemed to be too shocked to even consider doing anything before Pru was there mowing them down with a sword.

Tim, even though he doesn’t agree with it, is used to this. If the others have opinions on the matter, they don’t voice them.

As they continue onwards, Tim could feel the adrenaline starting to wear off. His body was aching again and the wounds on his back are beginning to throb. He would really love to collapse down onto a bed in that moment and pass out. Just to leave everything behind and enter the land of the unconscious.

He knows he can’t do that, however. There’s too much at stake and he needs to keep pushing himself forwards. Tim knows he can endure a lot but how much is too much? When he accidently stumbles hands were there to catch him and keep him upright. He sends a worried looking Kon the best reassuring smile he could muster up, though he doesn’t think it achieves a lot because Kon only becomes looking more concerned.

They eventually make it to the back of the docking bay. They’re grateful to find that this section of the bay is practically empty and according to Pru, since there isn’t any operations currently running, less bodies are needed on the bay meaning it’s emptier than usual.

When one of the unknown’s point to a black spaceship parked off to the side, stating that’s the one, they all immediately head towards it. As they get closer to it, Tim feels a spark of hope flicker inside of him. This is what he’s been waiting for, something he’s wished for since the moment he had been captured again; an opportunity to get off this ship and away from Ra’s.

Unfortunately the spark is short lived and dies when two figures appear in front of the ship. Both of them wearing black League of Assassins uniforms without any masks over their heads. From what Tim could see, they were both male, one taller and broader than the other, one had short dark hair while the other had wild blonde hair.

For some strange reason there’s something familiar about them but Tim couldn’t place what it is. He doesn’t recognise them and knows he hasn’t met them before but there’s something about them. It wasn’t until shocked gasps coming from three of their group that it all clicks.

He was looking at twin versions of Kon and Bart.

Tim whips his gaze from the pair in front of him to the pair standing at his side. Bart and Kon had shocked expressions plastered on their faces as they stare at the other two. A whispered “oh no” from Cassie has him feeling like he’s missing something.

“Kon, Bart, do you know them?” Tim questions eventually.

Kon swallows thickly, his eyes flicking towards Tim then at the others again. “Something like that.”

Tim doesn’t get the chance to question him further because another voice cuts him off.

“Well this is certainly unexpected but certainly not unwelcomed.” Kon’s look alike says with a smirk.

“I would say it’s nice to see you again but it really isn’t.” Bart’s twin sarcastically comments afterwards. “Kon-el, Bartholomew, you have something that belongs to the Demon’s Head and he wants it back. So hand over the human and we’ll take it easy on you.”

Tim tenses up, unsure of what’s about to transpire. He glances at Kon to find the Kryptonian now looking furious and determined. Next to him Bart is wearing the same expression.

“Match, Thad, it’s been a long time.” Kon says in a strained voice.

“Hand over the human Kon-el. I won’t ask again.”

Bart speaks up before Kon could reply. “That’s not happening, Tim is coming with us.”

The pair in front of them share a sinister smile and drop down into defensive positions. “We were hoping you’d say that.”

Beside him, Kon, Cassie and Bart all get into fighting positions. With his fists raised Kon stares at them defiantly. “Don’t get so full of yourselves, you couldn’t beat us last time and this time will be no different.”

“Well, we’ll just see about that won’t we?”

[sweet-sammy-kisses]

You’re the Only Sweet I Want

JayTim Week Day Prompt 2: Fairy Tale/Disney Princess You can also read it on AO3

"Don't you have some Outlaw business to do or something?" Tim had lost count how many times he had asked Jason that. Okay, that was a lie he had asked Jason that every day for the last two weeks since the day he found Jason waiting outside his shop for him.

A shit-eating grin appeared on Jason's face, he was loving the little tick Tim was developing and the faint blush that no matter how hard he tried to fight it. He knew that Tim was enjoying his flirting. "No can do baby bird. Kory and Roy are having a blast catching up with Raven and Gar. And do you want to tell Lian that she can't hang around Bart anymore?"

Tim blanched, Lian had managed to wrap Bart around her little finger, and together the two had become unholy terrors who had no problems in unleashing their doe-eyes on them. It was hard to say no.

Tim was certain that Lian was going to rule the world when she got older.

"We should have never let them meet." Tim groaned in dismay even his former assassins weren't immune to her charm. Owens adored Lian and he got along scary well with Roy, the two of them liked to have sharpshooting contest over at the Titian tower with Gar, Bart, and Conner as judges. Raven and Kory were still as close as ever and it did Lian and Cassie and when she came to visit Cass to have them in their lives. Even Pru was dragged into shopping trips and spa days thanks to Lian's pout. Z and Jason struck up the most interesting of friendships. Tim didn't understand it, at least he had Conner who was just as baffled as he was.

"So why are you here Jason?" Tim asked after letting out a long drawn out sigh, it was better to find out what Jason wanted then he could focus on his baking. Even if it took him a while to calm down from Jason's flirting.

Tim ignored the scraping of a chair being pulled out that just meant that Jason was settling in for the long haul.

"Lian told me the most interesting story, I think you will like it baby bird." Jason's voice was husky and growly it made Tim wonder if that is what he sounded like during sex.

"Oh, that's nice." Tim was on guard Jason had been finding different ways to flirt with him. He knew that Jason would tell him the story, he would pretend not to listen but they both knew he was hanging off every word.

"Once upon a time there was a handsome knight known as the Red Hood, he and his two friends the brave archer Arsenal and the beautiful princess Starfire were known as the Outlaws protectors of the innocent and kicker of bad guys asses."

Tim snorted he very much doubt that Lian said asses but there was no way Jason would say behind, not when he could swear without innocent ears around, and yes that included Bart a rule that was enforced the first time Bart copied Jason and swore, it was wrong to hear him do that. To the Titians Bart was their innocent son who should never say that kind of langue.

"Now the mighty and brave knight had a falling out with his family and went on his own. After all, he had defied death herself to come back. He vowed to do what was needed to ensure that no others were harmed as he had been. But it hadn't always been like that." Jason paused to take a deep breath.

"When he learned that his adopted father the great Dark Knight had let his killer live he was engulfed in hatred and rage and when he learned that he had been replaced by another he was consumed by rage that another innocent life could be cut short as his had been."

Tim's hands froze in the middle of kneading the dough and he could feel Jason's eyes on him.

"Now the knight had been tricked by an evil witch who had a hatred for the new and upcoming knight and she made sure that hatred was passed on to the Red Hood. The knight became consumed with taking down his replacement, to hurt the father that abandoned him and didn't avenge his death. He became twisted and did what he vowed never to do he harmed an innocent. One who had looked up at him and seen him as a hero."

That had Tim turning around to face Jason, he was certain that Jason didn't know of his hero-worship for him.

Any words that Tim might have said died on his lips at the look in Jason's eyes.

Pushing back the chair Jason climbed to his feet and walked closer to Tim, when there were only a few inches between them he continued his story, "With the help of his friends the knight eventually became free of the witch's curse and he saw the truth. The knight he thought had replaced him was more than a knight he was a prince of the stars, whose light saved the Dark Knight and brought light back into his life. The thing is no one realized that until the prince disappeared believed that he was unwanted and cast aside by hurtful actions that he was all of their light and with him gone so was the warmth he brought with him. So the handsome knight vowed that he would find the prince no matter how long it took, even if he needed to look for years, he would find his prince and bring back the light into his life."

Jason saw the realization dawning in Tim's eyes as he darted out his tongue to lick his lips.

"It took the knight five years but at last, he found his prince, he had become a baker using the skills he had learned at the hands of their kindly grandfather, who mourned and missed the prince almost as much as the knight did." Jason knew it was a low blow bringing up Alfred like that, Alfred who had told Jason of how Tim had been so eager to help him any chance he could when he first became Robin and how Alfred had made it his mission to ensure that Tim knew how to take care of him when his parents left him alone.

"If Master Bruce wouldn't help Master Timothy and returned him to his empty house then I made sure that Master Tim knew how to look after himself. He always made my kitchen all the much brighter with his wide smile and eyes that lit up when I asked him to help me out."

Alfred's words haunted Jason, he hadn't known about Tim's parents and once he looked into them he had been appalled by them, they had no right to call themselves parents and he hadn't been too happy with Bruce for allowing Tim to return night after night to that empty place.

"Now the prince had experienced loneliness and being abandoned and he thought it was only natural to be cast aside but he had no clue as to how wrong he was. He was wanted and loved by those who had hurt them. When the knight found him it was clear that the prince had made a new family and they were loyal to him and wouldn't leave him behind. Now the knight didn't know what to do because his heart longed to have a place in the prince's life, to have a piece of his love that he gave so freely to his new family. That love the prince had once offered him only for the knight to toss it away."

While he had been speaking Jason had moved closer and now there was but an inch of space between him and Tim, and he desperately wanted to reach out and pull Tim into his arms.

"What did the knight do?" Tim asked in a soft voice, that if Jason hadn't been so close he would have missed.

"The knight vowed to show the prince that he had changed and that if he gave him a chance the knight would prove to the prince how much he cared for him. The knight wondered if the prince would say yes if he asked him on a date to prove himself to him."

"YES!" Tim blurted out much to his horror and felt his face heat up.

Thrown it took Jason a moment to realize that Tim had said yes to his date, "Are you sure baby bird, I don't want to force you into anything you don't want."

Being asked on a date but his first crush and first love had been everything Tim had dreamed of when he first realized what he was feeling for Jason. "I'm sure Jason."

Jason's lips curled up into a smile that lit up his face before it turned into a sinful smirk that made Tim's knees weak, "Then baby bird be prepared to be swept off your feet. I will give you a night you never forget." Jason promised.

Tim had little doubts about that and he found he couldn't wait.

"I'll pick you up at seven, that should give you enough time prince." Giving Tim a wink Jason exited the kitchen.

Tim nearly collapsed as he heard the bell signal that Jason had left, "What the hell am I going to wear?"