Q:Please don't worry about us! School is the most important thing right now, and while we can't wait for you to come back, we know where you need your focus to be. :)
Thank you :) I’m lucky to have such understanding followers.
For those who do not know. I am in university and, well, school is hard. My program takes a lot out of me sweeties. I’m sorry if I worried anyone. I hope you’ll all survive with what I’ve already written until I actually start having time again (next semester).
I’m also sorry for all of the delays.
Q:sorry about the masterlist post it was just the first two days the links didn't work
No problem :) If you notice anymore problems, please try to be specific…I’ll do what I can. If it’s tumblr….well…yeah. But yeah.
Q:Please update your masterlist, please its been over a month. And you wrote alot of great stories since then. I know another anon asked you and I wanted to remind you. I know your probably been busy.
Sorry for the wait. I’m pretty bad at this. The updates are finished.
Summary: These are the drabbles, I sent to people and am still kind of sending people for the scavenger hunt. So yeah, they’re about Tim.
Note: Sorry for any typo’s. Also WARNING. Some are dark.
Love and Marriage
Note: Hearts, itty bitty nanny verse reference to marriage spawned this.
Tim rolled his eyes, ”You take thier heart. I assume you cut it from thier person under anesthtic but I’m quite sure mother forgot that portion upon her marriage to father.”
Slade would have choked on his own spit, but years of service had remdered anything his charge mentioned normal, ”And what do you do with the body.”
Tim shrugged, ”Whatever you want, you eat the brain though, that way they can’t say no.”
”Is that so horrible?”
Tim looked up from the dolls he pressed together, two stuffed animals pressumably copulating, ”Well if they’re saying no, they aren’t saying yes.”
”Is it better if they say yes?” Slade is starting to feel like a children’s pyschologist. He doesn’t like that.
Tim huffs, ”Of course it’s better if they say yes. It means you win and if you win, you can do snything you like.”
”And if your hert gets stolen?”
Tim rolls his eyes again, ”Don’t be stupid. You burn your own if you have to. It’d better than anyone take it from you, mother says.”
”I want a sandwich. Can you make one?” Tim asks.
Q:Well ~ <3 A list of prompts for you, do be prepared for the flood, sweetie. First : I would love more Hatchlings, maybe Damian sets some elaborate punishment for Bruce, because he still is sore by his absence, Jason and Dick know it's coming but are too afraid to stop it and then Tim just interferes in the last second. And more BruceTim interaction. Bruce IS a posessive bastard and maybe someone is eyeing his fiancee a little too much? Maybe he and Damian team up to protect Tim's virtue.
”Must you be so useless.”Damian sneers moving from his position by Bruce’s side to intterupt the man clearly attenmpting to harass his mother.
”Damian.” Bruce warns and Damian snorts, ignoring the elder.
Pressing himself between his mother and the other…guest…he spoke, ”May I have this dance.” With an an arrogant kind of cheekiness that startled a laugh from his parent. Tim nodded slightly.
”I am sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me.” Tim tells the man who had until them been slobbering all over him.
Damian, grabs his mothers hands and gently leads them to a calm spot on the ballroom floor, starting a slow waltz.
”Is there any reason you wanted me away from Mr.Grey?”
”The man is a pervert.” Damian scowled, to his mother’s amusement.
Q:Can I prompt some more of your Not Robin verse? Maybe Dick's reaction? Or Under the Red Hood? Or even Son of the Bat? I want to see what the other robins say when they see Tim and the way Bruce acts around him.
Not Robin: Richard
Dick isn’t sure what to make of the shadow Bruce had gained in his absence. Tim, by no stretch of the word, is a Robin.
He is too, something, to be as Dick or even Jason was and Dick had been so angry at Jason’s addition that when he died it was as though all the rage left and when it did, there was this this sinking feeling that he could have done something to stop it.
For all that he resented Jason, for all that he wanted to strike Bruce for giving the name his mother gave him to another boy he never wanted anyone to die. He’s happy that Tim isn’t a Robin.
He doesn’t want to see another child fall to the title.
”Hi.” He whispers, because Tim inspires such soiftness, his frame too small his eyes too large, and luminous in the dark.
”Hello.” Tim answers back, his pursed lips forming the words as a sigh, an exhale of breath, his shirt, one of Bruce’s past his knees, his hair wet from the shower. There’s something wrong about the image and Dick’s hands hesitate to touch the newest addition to their family.
It could be innocent, he could have borrowed a shirt after his shower, and Bruce would never, but it’s there, like a prowling tiger, waiting in the grass for the perfect time, for that one day. The idea, notion. The might be, could be, no, no, god no don’t be.
”How old are you Timmy?” He ponders.
”Twelve.” Tim answers pliantly, and wasn’t that a problem? Wasn’t he too pliant, too easy to move, in every sense of the word.
He wants to ask if Bruce touches him inapproriatly but he holds his tongue and hopes that doesn’t make him a monster.
”I’m twenty.” He offers.
”I know.” Tim responds, ”You’re Richard Grayson.”
Dick nods, ”Yeah, I am.” And Dick needs to stop speaking as though Tim is six but he’ll stop when the younger grows into a size more apporiate for his age, his tone too high and sweet and gentle. Too patronizing.
”..I was there when they fell.” Tim tells him and Dick’s smile is still pasted on his face, but his eyes widen ever so slightly.
”I was three, and I don’t know if you remember but I do.”
”That must have been hard to see.” Dick said.
”Not as hard as it was for you.” Tim offers back, playing with the sleeves of the black shirt, which were far too long for such skinny arms.
”It was hard for both of us.” Dick compromises and Tim nods, shuffling in place, his feet bare on the cold floor. ”Let’s find Bruce, hmm?” Dick asks, picking the younger up and carrying him deeper into the manor.
Tim lets him.
Q:May I suggest a Cousins!verse prompt? Some Janet and Alfred bonding over carrying for the boys and dealing with Bruce's "stupidity"?
Alfred is a keeper of many things, least of all, his charges happiness and safety. He does not always suceed but lord knows he tries.
”Mistress Wayne.” He greets Janet, even after she became a Drake. She would always be, the young mistress Wayne to him, small hands fisting tightly at a funeral. There are few things in his life he will remember as long as lives. Some of them have yet to happen.
His first love.
Bruce Wayne’s face the day after the murder. His first grandson, but by no means the eldest being born. His eldest grandson seeing the manor for the first time. The eighteeth meal Jason ate, made by his hands and the first one where he appeared to believe that no one would take away his food. The way his youngest grandson called him grandfather.
And the the way his daughter’s hands drew her own blood at her parents funeral.
”Hello Alfred.” Janet greets, slipping her coat off, and placing it on the rack on her own despite Alfred’s look of dissaproval. Patting at her windswept hair she smiled at the elderly man, ”Has my little brother done anything spectaculary stupid lately?” She teases.
”I can not say if any of Master Bruce’s actions are stupid, but he did recently attempt to do certain activities with a broken leg.”
”Did he now?”
”I believe so.”
”Excuse me Alfred, I have a brother to kill.” She told him before storming off to find her sibling. Well, as much as that child ever stormed off anywhere. She didn’t hurry, no, but she moved with great purpose.
It was lovely to have the young miss home again. It would have been no trouble to have the Drake family in the manor as well as the Wayne’s, but with Bruce’s nightly activties and Janet’s need to have her own little kindgdom under her pervue, it was best to leave things alone.
It was not as though the eldest never vistied the manor.
”Hello grandfather.” Tim spoke, nearly startling Alfred. All of three years old and so much like Janet it would have been funny if it didn’t terrify Bruce so much.
”I didn’t see you come in.” He tells the child.
Tim shrugs, his shoulders too bony for Alfred’s liking, ”How about, I take to you the kitchen and whip you up some apple pie Master Wayne?”
Tim nods, and Alfred scoops the little one up in his arms, the small weigth a concern and a comfort. Janet had been much the same at her age.
His eldest grandchild will see the manor in a week for the very first time, and it will be a moment he will never forget.
He will also never forget the feel of Tim’s weight, soft and clean in his aged arms.
Summary: A few dark drabbles centering around Tim and how messed up he tends to be as both a person and a character. Also, when he goes wrong he really goes wrong in the best ways.
Note:hglgshl\also, warning for bad things as the title tells you and the summary.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.