Characters/Pairings: Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Alfred Pennyworth
Thankyou so much to Batman-defeats-all for the beta XD
Snippet: It was one whole week fraught with worry and a hell of a lot of bribes to get Tim back, that stretched his sources thin but it at least made one thing clear… You don’t mess with Batman’s sons; these newbies to the criminal game sure knew that now.
Summary: Ra’s al Ghul is a strange man, and the young Timothy Drake is a strange boy. It makes sense, really.
Notes: NO, THIS IS NOT ACTUALLY RA’S/TIM. THIS WILL EVENTUALLY BE JAYTIM, SOMETIME IN THE FUTURE. This is part one of at least two, and I am currently writing part two.
This chapter just sets up the AU (the one where small, pre-Robin TIm meets Ra’s and Ra’s is like, yeah, you’re coming home with me). Enjoy.
Anonymous asked you: Is it still ok to ask for DamiTim prompts? No Verse: Alfred has to leave for a week to attend to personal business. Since Tim is the only one he trusts in the kitchen he asks Tim to help out with making Damian’s school lunches. Tim sets out to embarrass Damian through cutesy bento lunches. Damian’s horrified, but for all his grumbling he eventually looks forward to each one. Cue grudging Damian going to Tim to ask for snacks after Alfred returns *v*
Title: By all means, make yourself at home.
Contains: m/m, Dick/Tim, Nightwing/Robin, Tickling, sexual content, Robincest.
A/n: While Tim and Dick aren’t brothers by blood, they call each other brother. Tim is quite younger than Dick, but not under age. If a relationship within those parameters isn’t your cup of tea, that’s okay, but this might not be for you.
This was written entirely on my iphone and is entirely unebeta’d, i apologize for typos or grammar errors. First foray into what I’ve actually been wanting to write for ages.
Tim’s hands are always cold.
Fingertips, especially. Stubbornly resistant to gloves, and friction, and warm breath, they’re always just on this side of icy numbness. They’ve been this way for so long that Tim doesn’t remember what it really is to be really warm all the time, and the sudden, all-over heat that comes with warm showers is an unwavering surprise, each and every day.
And, although he has no recollection of this, when Tim was small in the vast coldness of his parents’ house, he used to shove them into his armpits in an attempt to warm them; despite the meager effect of his low body heat, the habit just kind of stuck.
Rating: NC-17 for object insertion
“In public though, really?”
Anonymous asked: more young just us interaction! Did Damian like the movies?
Ask and you shall receive. ~ <3 Hope you like.
Bruce stares at Alfred as the old Englishman considers scissors and combs and pulls the makeup kit from the cave and back to Damian’s room.
“Anything I should know, Alfred?” he asks, scowl marring his face.
“Nothing you don’t already know, Master Bruce,” Alfred replies, expressionless. “If you were paying attention.”
“I always pay attention,” Bruce states, his scowl deepening.
“Of course you do, Master Bruce.”
Bruce waits for half an hour, trying his best to remember what he should already know and failing miserably - it’s not his fault, he tells himself, Joker was lose last night and Ivy the night before and Crane the one before that, he’s busy - when he realizes he has no idea what Alfred could possibly mean and if he can sneak into his son’s room before their butler notices he might get an idea and try to save face in front of his family.
Slowly, he peers in.
His son is sitting on his bed, small legs dangling as Alfred runs a comb over his dark hair, taming it to fall over his eyes while the child examines the perfectly pointed ears that Alfred has attached on top of his normal ears and the way his eyebrows were… Shaved?
“Do close your mouth, father,” Damian says, eyeing his father from the hand mirror he is using. “It is not logical.”
“Most illogical indeed,” Alfred agrees, eyes bright with amusement. “Please remain still, Master Damian.”
“Do hurry up, Pennyworth,” the child urges, cheeks flushing with excitement. “Timothy and the others will be here any minute.”
“Patience, Master Damian,”
“But they are at the door now,” Damian almost whined and, sure enough, the doorbell rang once, twice, three times in rapid succession.
Surely Impulse was the one at the bell.
Bruce let his massive hand cover his face, a growl rumbling inside his chest.
“Master Bruce,” Alfred says without really turning around. “Can you please get the door while I finish Master Damian’s costume?”
Bruce growls once more before walking - not dragging his feet, of course, that would be childish of him - towards the main door.
Sure enough, Impulse, Superboy and Mastermind are there.
Or, actually, what appears to be Han Solo and Chewbacca and… Something with a suit and enormous glasses.
“Yes?” he asks, hoping his scowl mirrors the one he usually send The Joker or Poison Ivy.
Superboy grins that same irritating little smile that Clark uses on him whenever he thinks he’s being childish.
He hates metas.
“Hello, Mr. Batman!” Impulse beams, his arm wrapped cozily around Mastermind’s shoulders. “Is Dami ready?”
He wants to tell them that no, ‘Dami’ is not ready and will never be, not for them, but his own traitorous son, who still tries to claw at Dick’s face whenever the other man is near, but melts like a spoiled kitten under Mastermind’s hands - he’s blaming Talia on that one - peeks from behind his father’s legs and gives them all a small wave.
Impulse squeals while Superboy whistles appreciatively.
“Awesome Spock, Rob!” they cheer.
Mastermind nods his approval.
“You look very cute, Damian,” he says, smiling.
“Thank you, you look perfect as Dr. Jones yourself,” the child replies, hands resting behind his back. “It was a logical choice for you.”
Mastermind’s smile widens.
Bruce rolls his eyes.
He definitely doesn’t like the kid.
Alfred appears silently behind them, his eyes full of pride.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you, sirs?” he asks.
“Thank you Mr. Pennyworth, but we wouldn’t dream of making you go to San Francisco and back just for us,” Mastermind says with a shake of his head, his glasses slipping down his nose.
“The clone will take us to Comi-con and back, Pennyworth, do not trouble yourself,” Damian says.
“Yeah, we’ll ride the Kryptonian express!” Bart laughs.
Alfred nods, ushering the boys inside to hand them snacks he has prepared, of course, and all four children beam and follow him happily, of course.
“What is he supposed to be anyways?” Bruce mumbles.
Damian turns to him, eyes wide.
“Father!” he whispers urgently. “He’s obviously Dr. Indiana Jones!”
Bruce blinks, tilting his head.
“Indiana Jones wears a hat and a whip….” he states, blinking.
Damian blinks back, his lips curling into a pout that Bruce was definitely blaming on Talia - despite what Alfred and thousands of childhood pictures of him would say otherwise - his small hand reaching for his suit’s sleeve.
“He uses the hat when he’s out in adventures, and the suit when he’s teaching,” Damian explains patiently, wide blue eyes staring at him as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and his father is being particularly obtuse on purpose.
“Of course,” he says, running a hand through his son’s hair. “I’m sorry, Damian.”
Damian’s eyes seem to fill with a little pity, and he decides to wrap his arms around his father’s waist offering all the comfort his eight year old body could provide.
“Don’t worry, father, I will take it upon myself to educate you appropriately,” he says, his right hand petting his father’s arm.
Bruce is the Dark Knight.
Bruce is the night.
He is definitely not melting at his child’s adorable concern.
Specially not with Mastermind’s inquisitive eyes on him.
He really hates that kid.
Anonymous asked: Hello! A promp for your Mastermind AU: How does Selina and Kon & Bart get along? Is she happy that her kitten has friends his age?
Since you were the wonderful anon who started this drable-set you get the first reply my dear~ <3
For those interested, I’ll be posting three drabbles today and all the others tomorrow.
Tim has never been a violent person, nor has he experienced confrontation as a child - it would be hard to be confrontational when you have no one to confront - which is why he is holding Bart’s hand as tightly as he can while he hides his face onto the other child’s shoulder, his lips curled in discomfort.
“Guys?” Bart tries, his hand awkwardly patting Tim’s hair.
“Brains is just too awesome to be a kitten,” Kon scowls, crossing his arms over his chest, his cheeks puffing.
Selina raises an eyebrow, clearly offended.
“Kitten,” she hisses. “Is my godson and also smart enough to request my advice.”
“He’s not yours!” the young clone snaps. “He’s Bart’s and mine! WE found him!”
“What am I, a pet?” Tim asks Bart, scowling when the other teen nods. “Maybe this was a bad idea?”
“See the bright side?” Bart beams. “Kon likes you so much he’s not even ogling Miss Kyle’s boobies?”
Tim looks thoughtful for a moment.
Then he smiles shyly.
“You are right,” he agrees, snuggling onto Bart’s side.
“As if I’d ogle that granny,” Kon growls, and Selina immediately bares her teeth, her hands curling into claws.
“Excuse me?” she snaps.
“You are… Tim’s god momma, so you are old,” the clone explains naturally. “Too old to know what’s cool for that matter.”
Selina seems to be about to claw the teen’s eyes out - not even caring that the Kryptonian will most likely break her fingers before submitting to her - when Tim decides enough is enough and stands between the two gladiators currently wrecking his living room.
His mother will be most annoyed if she sees what Selina’s heels and Kon’s stomping have done to her ancient Persian carpeting.
“Umm please, Aunt Selina, Kon, stop fighting?” he asks, feeling lame and embarrassed when they turn to look at him blankly.
“Kitten,” Selina sighs. “I am trying to protect you. The suit I brought is Batman created Kevlar and leather.”
“But it has cat ears,” Kon protests. “Tim would look ridiculous!”
Bart facepalms, shaking his head when Superboy and Catwoman glare at eachother.
“Maybe we can compromise?” he says, pulling on the black suit but leaving the kitty-eared hood off, and then wrapping the dark blue cloak Kon brought around himself to complete the ensemble.
Shyly, he turns to regard his friends, cheeks flushed pink.
Selina smirks, ruby lips covering her teeth.
Kon eyeing him from head to toe.
“You look like a cyberpunk puppeteer,” Bart chirps, smiling. “I like it!”
“Mastermind,” Kon laughs. “Awesome!”
Selina’s hands run through his hair, styling it gently.
She nods her approval and Tim feels peace settle around him once more.