Bandity
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It started when he was almost too young to remember.
Do not speak, unless you are spoken to.
Sit still through this whole meeting.
Do not let them notice you.It was a game. And Tim was used to winning.
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From a title prompt on tumblr.
Lance, Hunk and Keith get lost on a planet. Luckily, they find an abandoned house in the middle of the bog. They'll be safe now. Right?
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Jason didn’t know when it started. If he thought about it, he remembered the bright light that surrounded his mom in her last days. After that, he noticed the way some people lit up, outlined in a growing brightness that emitted from the edges of their beings. The brighter the individual, the closer they were to death.
At the parties that Bruce insisted on dragging him to, he expected the dim light from the tired old businessmen who drank too much and were limping closer to their ends, glowing a little more every time Jason saw them.
What he did not expect was for the 12-year-old neighbor kid to light up like a damn Christmas tree the second Jason laid his eyes on him.
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The manor was alive. Loud in a way that Tim didn’t know what to do with. Life was evident there in every corner. The kitchen was usually in a state of use. The garden had trodden paths where Alfred liked to walk. Every worn bit of carpet and every reverberating footstep was a testament of life.
And it made Tim bite his lip and twist his fingers together while he sat alone in his room.OR
5 Times Tim's anxiety took the wheel and 1 time he reached out for help when he needed it
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At the party, Lance hadn’t had a reason to refuse any food or drink they passed his way. The little vial filled with liquid rose gold that had been slipped into his hand by some politician had seemed innocuous. It had felt warm on his throat, and it wasn’t until the entire vial was gone that he realized it might have been a mistake
Series
- Part 4 of Follower appreciation event
Recent series
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A series of unrelated fics from my follower appreciation event on tumblr. The goal was to write 1k words based on people's prompts. I went over 1k every time.
- Words:
- 7,143
- Works:
- 4
- Bookmarks:
- 3
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Summary
A series of stories that revolve around the Paladins having one of their senses messed with. Stories are connected by theme and will not be taking place in the same timeline.
1. Keith-Touch
2. Hunk-Hearing
3. Lance-Sight
4. Pidge-Taste
5. Shiro- Smell- Words:
- 57,816
- Works:
- 5
- Bookmarks:
- 46
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- Words:
- 53,895
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 91
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- Words:
- 14,899
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- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 24
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- Words:
- 40,615
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 161
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There’s a crime scene board set up off to one side. Bruce wanders over to examine it while Batman goes about preparing the tests he’ll want to complete to make sure Bruce isn’t going to tear the fabric of spacetime apart.
He vaguely remembers this case. It was already a cold case even by the time Dick arrived, a murder whose trails had gone nowhere. It was one of the files he’d dusted off and given to Tim to practice his skills.
He hums approvingly as he studies the board. Tim’s getting close - once he finds the witness Bruce had overlooked the first time, he’ll have the lead he needs to crack the case.
Then he frowns, touching one of the photos of the building. It’s not one of the original crime scene photos, nor one of the ones Bruce himself had taken when the crime was fresh. Tim must have gone himself to take them after Bruce gave him the case.
Pride sparks in his chest, twisted with shame.
“Have you looked at this?” he asks, raising his voice enough for his younger self to hear him over by the monitors.
Batman grunts, glancing over and then away again. “It’s a cold case,” he says. “Robin’s been working on it.”
“I know that,” Bruce responds. “Have you looked at it?”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,000
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 2
- Comments:
- 272
- Kudos:
- 2,818
- Bookmarks:
- 495
- Hits:
- 12,013
Bookmarked by Bandity
23 Jun 2025
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“You were hurt.”
“I could have been faking that.”
“Why would he assume that you were—?”
"I did." Tim looks up at Bruce, then down again, he can’t hold the heavy eyes. He sucks in a sharp breath, exhales, wheezy and unhappy. He’s too exhausted to run around this, he just wants to lay down and go back to sleep. “When I was nine, I faked being sick, so they wouldn’t leave."
AKA: Jack Drake doesn't take Tim at his word about being sick anymore, which isn't normally a problem. Until Tim gets poisoned.
Bookmarked by Bandity
20 Jun 2025
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Sometimes—most of the time—all the time, Tim gets the sense that he’s not real. Sure, he’s, well, scientifically existent. There are cells that form a body and a thinking brain and a mind and that conglomeration is called Tim. So, in a purely theoretical sense, Tim is real.
But in a practical sense, Tim just doesn’t exist.
(It takes less than an hour for Tim to cleanse the brownstone of all traces of his presence.)
Series
- Part 11 of Whumptober 2024
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,024
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 22
- Kudos:
- 613
- Bookmarks:
- 88
- Hits:
- 3,311
Bookmarked by Bandity
14 Oct 2024
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When he looks back on it, Tim will remember the hours that follow his accident as less painful and more crowded.
Which is pretty surprising, seeing as how he’s currently rocking an average of about one injury per body part, counting all fingers and toes and unnecessary organs, if he had to make an estimate.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,452
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 91
- Kudos:
- 1,243
- Bookmarks:
- 166
- Hits:
- 6,257
Bookmarked by Bandity
05 Aug 2024
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Summary
Bruce wakes with a snort and a crick in his neck.
Wincing, he picks his twinging neck up slowly, blinking grit out of his eyes. The tv is still on, flickering in the otherwise dark room.
“Is it possible… that aliens are responsible for the tragic wreck of the Titanic?” a narrator is asking.
Tim is still dead weight across his legs. Bruce can feel a damp patch on his sweatpants where he’s drooled on him.
Bruce digs his phone out of his pocket, careful not to disturb him.
4:32am.
Fuck.
Tim was due to be woken up for a concussion check over three hours ago.
“Tim,” he murmurs, rough with sleep. “Wake up, bud.” He shakes him gently.
When he doesn’t stir, he shakes him again, harder, sighing softly - Tim always is dead to the world on the rare occasions he actually sleeps. “Tim,” he repeats, louder, a normal speaking volume.
He tugs on his shoulder, rolling him towards Bruce.
There’s no resistance.
Tim’s head lolls.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,894
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 4
- Comments:
- 216
- Kudos:
- 2,920
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- 447
- Hits:
- 16,498
Bookmarked by Bandity
15 May 2024