July 24, 2014
Not quite daily drabble: cats

The first one is Timothy, fittingly enough. A tiny, fist-sized ball of indignant, rangy black cat, winding his way into Ra’s’ life two years after the crisis that wiped Gotham - and most of her protectors - off the map.

Timothy decided Ra’s was his human in Egypt, and like his namesake, managed to stalk Ra’s. Through Egypt, to Saudi Arabia, then Iraq, and all the way back to his base in Iran. Ra’s gave in, ordered a cook to bring some raw chicken, and resigned himself to black fur all over his pillows.

Ten years after Timothy’s arrival came Thea, with kitten-blue eyes and enough thick black fur to look double her actual size. Timothy looked very smug when he deposited the tiny furball in Ra’s’ lap.

A year after Timothy’s death came Timoteo, the latest of Thea’s kittens. He got into everything, including the Lazarus pit. Ra’s hadn’t been aware, prior to that, that pit-madness could affect animals. He was aware he shouldn’t find the oversized monster’s antics quite as amusing as he did, but. Watching the Ubu scramble in fear before a seventeen pound animal was a highlight of many hard days.

After that, he loses track of the exact order. There is Tim, and Timothea, and Timmas, and Tima and Timmeo, and many others.

And then one day there is Jane, the latest of Ra’s ill-considered pets held in her arms, staring at Ra’s in bemused horror.

"You cannot," she says, in a voice far too familiar, "have missed me this much. I refuse."

Ra’s sighs, and resigns himself to a human lifetime of mockery. “And hello to you too, detective.”

June 11, 2014


Imagine your OTP in a universe where everything is the same, except for one thing: their personalities are switched.

Ra’s and Tim. RA’S AND TIM.

Geeky, sarcastic, paranoid Ra’s with his army of minions, who complains he’s riding herd on a bunch of toddlers but indulges them all the same. Who talks to cats, dogs, passing birds; stays up late in the night and occasionally loses all sense of personal boundaries as he rambles on about his newest obsession.

Tim forever with a contingency plan and an elegant response till you push him to far and his temper explodes. Tim who uses and discards people, and sees his partnership with Bruce in cold terms of cost-benefit analysis, and can’t admit he cares. Always riding the edge of acceptable behavior, forever skirting the line of being evil.

Jesus fuck I love this idea.

(via heartslogos)

April 27, 2014
Short Batfic: Perfect World

something from my drafts folder, cleaned up and edited to reassure people I’m not leaving the batfandom just because Naruto and original fiction are taking up my time right now. Preboot-reboot fusion, mildly serious ridiculousness, where Talia and Damian are alive, Tim is overworking himself out of misguided desire to give Bruce some time with his son, and Red Robin #1-13ish are canon, and Ra’s continues to be both creepy, ignorant of the idea of ‘personal space’ and overly interested in Tim’s life. (Also, I’m 80% sure Ra’s and Bruce are engaged in some sort of brain breaking flirtation off screen.)


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March 27, 2014
Shameless Hound Verse Porn: Sex Pollen Edition

A.k.a. fuck this thing, it’s never going to be finished at this rate, I’m publishing it and calling it done.

Warnings for sex, Ra’s’ really fucked up ideas about consent, and Hound being himself. Also unusual use of sex pollen tropes, but that’s not as bad.


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February 27, 2014

Like, seriously, Ra’s was basically a gigantic geeky dork when he was young. You can’t convince me otherwise. He talked the ears off of anybody in his tribe who’d listen to him go on about alchemy and medicine and mathematics, and whenever they stopped at a city on their route, he’d totally disappear to go sit at the feet of any scholar he could find.

His wife Sora, on the other hand, was the daughter of a bloody alchemist. She was a scholar in her own right, and her family was well off, because alchemy was a very respectable subject and generally the province of the wealthy. She was the high-class, cultured one in the relationship, and I am 100% sure she spent at least quarter of her time giggling at her husband’s complete and utter failure to grasp upper-class social norms.

February 14, 2014

oh my, Ra’s don’t be jealous!
Dat- fine-ass!!!!

I’ve never seen this particular outfit of Ra’s, but wow, that is pretty. Ridiculous, but pretty.


oh my, Ra’s don’t be jealous!

Dat- fine-ass!!!!

I’ve never seen this particular outfit of Ra’s, but wow, that is pretty. Ridiculous, but pretty.

February 13, 2014

purplemika said: Okay, now that I have to say it "out loud" (so to speak) it's embarrassing, but here goes: Ra's reveals that his "obvious" (for a relative value of obvious) plots were just to distract people from his actual plot. Batfam reactions. What was it and did someone figure it out and create a counter? If so who?


Pffff, so I’m not gonna lie, this is a tad vague for me to work with and it sounds like it’ll be kind of lengthy, so I’m gonna try and write how it could work first before I even attempt to write it out

in which, I gotta say Ra’s using distractions to draw eyes from his larger plots is kind of what he seems to do a lot of the time. Ra’s doesn’t think in big pictures—he thinks he layers that have back ups in case something doesn’t work out. So I don’t think the Batfamily needs to figure out so much that Ra’s is using a admittedly large distraction to hide away his much bigger, potentially deadlier plan. I think what they would need to do is figure out how to draw said plot out faster as to fuck with Ra’s himself

so no one’s surprised, is what I’m saying

But, I mean, what could be big enough to that the Batfamily could not see it at first? Let’s face it, Ra’s a lot of plans. I don;t think Ra’s brain ever stops working, so even when he’s in the middle of one plan, he’s working on a new one. He’s always researching, always digging up new ways to further himself.

Which is probably why I like to favor the idea that one day Ra’s is going surpass science in his plans one day and start straight up using alchemy and the such


So, anyway, going with that, why shouldn’t the plan being something a long those lines or Ra’s, in his arrogance, and started to assume he can do something obscene with the Pit now—a while back a made up an idea that the Pit is, in essance, a coherent creature that speaks madness into its victim’s heads. So why wouldn’t Ra’s think he could harness that energy in his head and think that fusing himself with the Pit would take him out of the realm of time and death, but pretty much put him on a level even deities couldn’t reach

and then see where he runs with that I dunno no I’m just blabbering abot Ra’s ego and that could take him to God complexing areas when he’s deciding that he knows what exactly is best for the world and now he has the power to do someone seriously stop because I am positive I have stopped making sense

From alchemy he began, to alchemy he returns… Man, I’m tempted to play with this.

February 13, 2014



purplemika replied to your post “You guys ever sit there and think about how Ra’s is kind of a…”

And yet, it somehow never seems to occur to him to restrict his actions to using his vast wealth and power to actually create and *enforce* environmental regulations. Instead he chooses plans that are so heinous heroes feel compelled to stop him.

I just assume he’s doing it for the attention now.

It’s his way of flirting. That’s got to be it.

(Part of me likes to think that Ra’s switched to pining after Tim because he was like - Hey! A newer model! All the detective-y-ness of the original, but in a more compact and travel friendly body! (Also, fabulous, fabulous hair!)

I’ve read at least one canon thing that implied he did use his wealth like that, in addition to his flashy super villain shit.(The shit with Tim, though? That’s just plain showing off, we all know it.)

3:03pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZJKDWw17JG2b2
Filed under: ra's al ghul 
February 7, 2014


Imagine Tim locking up all of Ra’s files and making so the only way to unlock them is to get a high score on Flappy Bird.

Tim is exactly this kind of troll. I may have to write this.

February 3, 2014
Delving into the drafts folder: Last edited, 6/30/2013; Working title, Dysphoria Sequel

Mihyar starts crying, and Tim groaned. “He’s never going to sleep through the night, is he?” Tim asked, rolling over to tuck her face into Ra’s neck.

"Rest, Timothy. I’ll get him," Ra’s said, pressing a kiss to Tim’s forehead and sliding out of bed. Tim curled up in the warm spot Ra’s had left, and closed her eyes. Mihyar had been difficult today, and Tim just wanted to sleep until the lead was gone from her bones.

She was awakened, rudely, by Samarah shaking her. “We’re under attack. We need to move!” Samarah hissed. Tim sat up, adrenaline shooting through her veins.

"My son?" Tim asked urgently.

"Safe, with Ra’s. Now come on, move!”

Tim rose to her feet, the long hem of her nightgown caught in one hand to keep it from tripping her. She nodded. “Let’s go.”

Hand in hand with her guard, Timothy fled. Out of her and Ra’s bedroom, past Mihyar’s nursery, past the entrance to the Salle. The walls shook, plaster dust dislodging and showering into their hair. Samarah tugged her into a niche in the wall, fumbling at her belt for a ring of keys. She pulled off two, and pressed them into Tim’s hands.

"If we get separated, this one will let you into the garage in sub-basement two, and this one will start any of the black vehicles. Go for the armored car, you understand?" Samarah asked, staring at Tim intently. Tim nodded again.

"Sub-basement two, black armored car," she repeated back, closing her fist around the keys. Samarah smiled grimly, and passed Tim a sheathed dagger, nearly the length of Tim’s forearm.

"And if anyone tries to grab you, remember – gut wounds aren’t always fatal, but they’re always distracting, mistress." Samarah’s eyes gleamed with hard light, and for the first time in months, Tim remembered that her friend and guard was also a trained killer.

They walls shook with the sound of explosions. They exchanged glances, and started running again.

“‘Marah! The balcony!” Tim hissed. Samarah reversed direction immediately, Tim following. Down through a side corridor, out into the private sitting room. Glass shattered as men – and women – swung in through the windows. Samarah shoved Tim behind herself immediately.

"Run!" She ordered. Tim ran, ducking grasping hands and attempts to wound. Hands caught in her hair, and Tim is done playing. She nerve-struck the offending wrist, twisting free.

"Back. Off!" She snarled, hair falling in disarray around her face.

Samarah laughed like a madwoman. “Time to go, mistress!” They ran once more, out of the sitting room, through the hallway, and down to the stairwell. Samarah yanked the door shut behind her, and pulled a handgun from the exposed underside of the stairs.

"I’ll stall them. Get out of here," Samarah told her, bringing the gun up to point at the door. Tim nodded, and started hurrying down the stairs. Second floor, first floor, ground floor, sub-basement one, sub-basement two… She shoved the first key into the lock, her hands shaking. It took her three tries to unlock the door, and she shoved it open, dashing out into the garage with the sound of pound feet behind her.

"Tim!" Someone shouted. Tim spun, eyes fixing on her pursuers. There was…her mind stalled. There was a man…in a batsuit. Her heart seized.

"Dad?" Tim whispered uncertainly, hesitating. A deer frozen in the path of an oncoming car. Samarah said…but it was Bruce…what about Mihyar? The last thought spurred her on. Her son. She had to get back to her son. She turned and fled, dagger clutched tight in one hand, keys in the other.

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