twisted tim

TimDrakeWeek 2017 Day 2: Childhood/Adulthood DamiTim

Excited to try this with @iphoenixrising, @the-all-seer and @rahndom if they still want to jump and do a day. :D So far it’s been really fun.

Damian outgrew Tim in his fifteenth year.

In that summer to be precise. Though the sun baked the concrete to the point that everyone stayed inside to not fry to had been a very dark summer for Tim.

Damian hadn’t been subtle at all. Anytime Tim stopped by the manor for a chemical analysis, a briefing from B or retrieve a casefile the current robin would stand side by side next to Tim. Look, compare and smirk. In June the brat was about to the bridge of his nose, by August…he was a hair taller.

“A centimeter is more than a hair I believe, Drake.”

“It’s the width of your pinky, now stop gloating.” With a hand, he pushes Damian back slightly. The teen’s been bad with personal space lately. Crowding him against walls before a mission just to prove heights is rude, dude. It’s almost as if the assassin is relishing the fact that now he can look down on Tim physically as well as emotionally.

“I’m just admiring my new perspective. This angle is surprisingly pleasing to me.” See. Tim doesn’t even know why he’s pissed. He should have been resigned the moment the tiny hell child announced Bruce was his father.

Still the fact itches. “Look, I know oxygen is thinner up there, but could you try not to lose too many brain cells?”

“I’ll try, though the weather up here is quite lovely.” Oh Alfred’s Apple Pie, Damians learned puns. Now Tim has to murder Dick. Especially when the smile Damian gives has a touch of fang. “Now come along, father needs us.”

The boy, ‘cause height difference or not that’s what he is, turns away dramatically after beckoning Tim to follow him.

“Worst. Summer. Ever.”

Dick of course makes it worse, “Who’s my shortest adorable brother?” He coos obnoxiously. Like one of those fat women making baby noises at their pet dog. His palms squish either side of Tim’s face and Tim swears to all higher powers that if Dick tries to rub their noses together he’s gonna bite him. “You are! You’re officially the shortest ruthless vigilante in the family now. I should twitter about this…to everyone.”

“If you don’t get your hands off me right now, I’m going to string you in your underwear somewhere for Bab’s viewing pleasure again.”

Dick’s fingers fly off his face as if it’s scalding. “Awwwwww, you don’t have to get that vicious Timmy.”

“I’m always this vicious, you dick. One day my pain will be yours and on that day I’ll will  remember this moment and you will be sorry.” Tim promises with spite.

Dick coyly presses a hand over his heart, “Oh Timmy, my darling petite–omph,” Dick could dodge the first strike to his thorax, but not the second. But still he wheezes out, “That would never happen!”

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Touch | Part ii | Tim Drake x Reader

Words: 2073

Notes: Part twoooo!! BTW this is all my friends work! She took some time the other day to write and just sent it to me, so here you go, anon!

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Taglist: @followeroonieclassic @instantangelstudent @puggleprincess @robincoalition

It’s been harder to think lately. Well… when you’re a superhero, it’s always harder to think, but this isn’t about that. Of course, it’s about Tim Drake. You can’t look at him the same way anymore. How do you feel about this? What do you do about this? You can’t just… go up and ask him. And you’re definitely not brave enough to insinuate such an intimate thing. So… do you wait and please yourself on your own, or do you hint? There’s nothing one really can do in this situation if you’re an introvert.

After Tim surprised you with an apology date, a complete afternoon with nothing but you, him, and whatever you wanted to do, it had occurred to you that he still felt guilty. Whenever he looked at you now he seemed to be searching for something both in your expression and within himself. Was he making you happy? What could and should he do if he isn’t? The daze in his eyes deepened when these questions arose. And his eyes had been very deep presently.

Tim was a busy man. You were happy to be his girlfriend at all really—an impossibility of the superhero lifestyle that Tim had conquered just for you. You knew there would be rough patches in your relationship, and his forgetfulness just happened to be one of them. All you had to was work through it. Or, find a solution… which you had done… but were too shy to perform. With anything else, anything at all, you would be perfectly fine with. Asking Tim on a date? Done. Communicating with him in order to fix a problem? Easy. But… taking the next step forward in your relationship? Being… being intimate? Yeah. Not your thing.

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frostbite883  asked:

TumblrFrostbite: If an older Batman made a young (25 looking) clone of himself, with all his knowledge and personality traits, trained the clone for ten years until he has enough experience to be on par to how the original Batman was in his prime, how would the Bat Fam react if he appeared in the Bat Cave and introduced himself to them after his creator shortly died of old age?

2/2 Especially if he does that while wearing a new Batman costume and taking on the mantle of Batman? Note: This scenario could happen in any DC universe (ANY DC universe).

First things first: ouch. That made me sad. Second, I think the reactions would be quite different, depending on the member of the family.

Tim and Barbara, being the more logically and results-driven minded, would eventually see it as a good plan. It makes sense. Bruce is the Batman. There’s a reason anyone else who wore that cowl had big inferiority complex about it.

Steph would feel the betrayal so hard she’d probably slap Bruce’s corpse, Cass I think would not approve in the slightest but maybe she’d try to see it as Bruce’s attempt to keep protecting all of them.

Jason and Damian, being the more, let’s say, insecure, would see it as a proof that Bruce didn’t trust them at all. For Jason would probably be a confirmation of his worst fears, but for Damian, who sees himself as the natural heir to his father, would be a big, big hit. Another parent building a clone to replace him? Jfc, that’s cold, Bruce.

Dick, honestly I don’t know. I feel like he could have a major mental breakdown as well as just sigh and bang his head against a wall. I mean, he put up with so many shitty things he probably wouldn’t even be that much surprised about it. Rest assured though, that the clone’s survival chances depends mostly on him and Babs. 

You say Clone!Bruce comes in just after Bruce’s death, so they’re grieving, and that means that they are all dangerous. No one would believe him right away, Jason, Tim, Damian and Cass will go for the beat-the-shit-out-of-you first and ask questions later, and I feel like Dick and Barbara would be the only ones wanting to try it in reverse (Stephanie would be still occupied with insulting Bruce’s corpse). There’s going to be a fight for sure, though, because I feel that a fight would be the fastest way for Clone!Bruce to prove them he’s telling the truth. 

After that, well. You don’t spit in the face of a new-and-as-good-as-the-original Batman. They would work with him. Maybe, with time, they would even become fond of him because he’d be the closest thing they have to their father/mentor. And it is a little liberating for them to know they’re free of the legacy if they so want (the one having big issues with it is Damian of course, but I expect/hope to see him grow out of the whole Batman is my destiny idea one day) and there is some, I don’t know, irony?, to the idea of a Batman who keeps regenerating himself (because I’d expect for Clone!Bruce to create a Clone!Clone!Bruce, in the spirit of the original). I think they’d find it funny. And CREEPY AS HELL. (And the Justice League, omfg, I can hear the frustration from here.)

As for Alfred, I fully expect from him to have the good sense to die before this new nonsense drama happens, because another young!Bruce? Hell no. Alfred’s out.

anonymous asked:

Noticed that you haven't been posting a lot of fanfic recently (not complaining or judging because LIFE), but just lettin' you know that I love your fics and can't wait for more!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

This made me very happy, anon! You’re right, life has been eating away at my soul as of late, and I haven’t been able to really write much (including missing out jaytimweek WAH). 

I debated even sharing this, but since you inquired, here’s the opening of a fic I was working on for jaytimweek:

last chance to lose your keys
sum: Tim loses his memory. Jason runs out of excuses.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Tim commented quietly from his corner of the room. He watched Jason drop his leather duffle on the ugly, floral bedspread, abused springs protesting loudly under its weight. It sounded dirty, the kind of sleazy noise a person would expect to hear at a pay-by-the-hour motel.

And then Jason unzipped the bag with steady hands to pull out a shiny black handgun.

Tim’s mouth went dry.

Green-blue eyes flicked his way for only a moment before Jason scoffed, his fingers deft and skillful as they twisted in a silencer at the tip of his gun. “Yes, I did.”

The events of the past two days were still an anxious blur in Tim’s mind. He remembered few concrete details on how he ended up in Las Vegas with Jason, a gun-toting, snarky asshole with the kind of face that made Tim want to bite the back of his hand.

At least, he said his name was Jason. Tim couldn’t remember if that were true or not.

He did know some things. He knew his name was Timothy Drake-Wayne. He knew he worked at Wayne Enterprises for bleak stretches of time, attending stuffy, drawn out meetings, the Millennial mouthpiece for one playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne.

But he also knew Bruce’s secret, and he worked alongside him and others to fight crime in Gotham City as Red Robin. He could picture Dick’s sleek, acrobatic fighting style, knew the exact shade of Steph’s blonde hair, could feel the silence that followed Cass around like armour, hear the impatient tone of Damian’s voice.

But this Jason? Tim had no memory of him at all.

“You think I’m a flight risk?”

Jason ignored him, checking for ammo before snapping the clip back into place and cocking the gun with an ominous slide of metal springs. He turned away from his duffel to stalk the length of their room, which was only big enough to fit two full beds and a bulky TV from the ‘90s. When he got to the window, Jason eased back thin, ugly curtains with his gun.

“We’re more than an hour from the next town, and there’s nothing but desert and darkness between the mile markers,” Tim tried again. He already knew there was no point in arguing, but old habits made him try.

Jason laughed again, low and derisive, and flicked the curtains back into place. “Got it all figured out, huh?” He tucked the gun into the holster beneath his jacket, twisting slightly so Tim could see the strong curve of his back. “We got a regular Wonder Boy on our hands.”

The reference irked Tim, made his skin crawl thinking about the things Jason knew about him – and all the things he didn’t know about Jason. The first thing he’d done when he’d come to, soaking wet on the tiled bathroom floor in some swanky hotel room, was call Bruce.

“I’ll tell you more when you’re home,” Bruce had said, his voice placating. There was a long pause before he’d added, “You can trust him.”

“But–,” Tim had tried to argue.

“Leave it,” Bruce said, his voice more clipped than before. “You don’t need to know anything else right now.” He promised to check in on them in the morning, and then promptly hung up.

Clearly, Bruce had chose his words carefully. The reason why felt important.

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