Tim Drake Wayne - Tumblr Posts

me when my siblings and I fight over stupid things

EVEN MORE TIM AND DAMIAN BEING THE SIBLINGS EVER

Commission Info / Kofi

One day Tim’s out in casual clothes just roaming because Alfred said he needed to spend time in the sun (Jason said his sickly Victorian child was showing which is what actually got him outside).

Anyway he’s minding his business, bored out of his mind, when an alert about the riddler goes out. He escaped Arkham and Tim is like “I’ve got nothing better to do,” So he tracks him down. Except he tracks him down as Tim Drake, not Red Robin because he was told to get sunlight as Tim.

Kid basically knocks on the door the Riddler’s hideout like “I’m bored and I’m pretty sure I can out riddle you.” And the Riddler isn’t gonna take that challenge sitting down.

He doesn’t even have a plan set up yet. Just drags Tim in like “guess I’ll use this kid as bait he is influential.” And the entire time he’s setting up his elaborate trap he’s shooting riddles back and forth with Tim. Ten minutes in he’s given up on the trap because Tim is not only keeping up but is also dishing out stellar riddles. Riddler’s not about to risk killing one of the few people in Gotham that are actually entertaining.

By this point the Bat’s “Tim Radar” Has gone off. They haven’t heard from him and he hasn’t checked in for the Riddler Breakout. So they track him and they find him sitting in Riddler’s hideout with a mug of coffee playing the equivalent of four dimensional chess but it’s the game Clue.

It ends with the Riddler being willing to go back to Arkham so long has he has regularly scheduled enrichment time with Tim.

Tim’s content with that. Honestly he had a lot of fun.

Bruce is exhausted.

Post time stream rescue Tim’s not doing too swell. He’s moved out of the manor, drifted away from his family, is over worked, and in his spiral has convinced himself that no one would care if he disappeared.

Logically he knows this isn’t true. He loved his family and he knows how his family shows him love, but it’s Tim. That little voice is always there in the back of his head. “If i disappeared would they care because suddenly I’m not here to do all the work or because I’m their brother and I’m missing.”

He had zero intention of figuring this out. In fact when that voice got too loud he’d pack up his bag and go spend the weekend at the manor, or longer if need be until that little voice quieted down.

Unfortunately for Tim, during one of his worst low self esteem spirals, he got taken for surprise, knocked over the head, and thrown off a building.

Lady Gotham, refusing to see one of her knights fall, used all her stored up strength to summon a “natural” portal to the infinite realms.

When Tim wakes up, he’s in a bed, in a castle, and the sky outside the window is green. Also he doesn’t have any memories. He knows his name and his age. He’s still stupidly clever, but when a guy in a black and white jump suit literally floats through the door and asks him about himself he can’t say much else.

Which is a problem.

Danny had been minding his business, going about his ghost king duties when some of his knights rushed in carrying a very much alive teenager. Which no problem, this happens all the time. Living people slip into the realms all the time. Usually they can get some basic information about the person and the world they live in and get them back to the right dimension but context clues are needed.

The ghost writer needs context clues to be able to begin a process of elimination for which dimension you originate from.

How long ago was you last ice age? What’s the current year? Who won world War II? Did you *have* a WWII? Do heroes exist in your universe? Do people with special powers exist? Are your polar ice caps still frozen? How far has space travel advanced?

With each answer they can begin crossing out possible dimensions until they reach the right one “usually.”

The issue is that Tim doesn’t have memories, which became very obvious when Danny started asking him questions. He just wanted to know what happened to land Tim into the infinite realms but he couldn’t remember and unfortunately there’s no readily available dimensional ID people carry around because dimensional travel is…not very common.

So Danny is stuck. He also can’t leave Tim exposed in the zone for too long else he starts transitioning to a more liminal existence, but he can’t return Tim to his dimension because they don’t know what dimension he’s from. Obviously Tim is a hero based on the garb he’s wearing, which is something to start with, but narrowing down dimensions with heroes still leaves them with…too many options. And there’s always the chance that this kid is just a really dedicated cosplayer for their favorite comic book so really how sure can they be?

Danny sorta hopes some memories will start to come back and Takes Tim home with him to his dimension.

Some ground facts. Danny’s parents know he’s phantom and accept this. As soon as Danny told them they did a 180 and basically de ghost proofed the house so Danny would be safe. Also, as the ghost king, Danny was able to tell the ghosts to finally leave him the fuck alone. They have a rotating schedule for social fights now so Danny can actually finish school with decent grades.

So when Danny steps through the portal into his parents Lab with Tim in tow, they start rolling with it. Tim is set up in their guest room, Jazz is coming back home this next weekend with a few idea’s on how to help Tim get his memories back, and Sam and Tucker have been filled in on what’s going on.

For the most part they go about life as if nothings changed. They tell the school that Tim’s a cousin visiting from out of state for health related reasons. They don’t enroll him in school, but Tim is allowed to hang out in the school’s library while Danny has classes (it’s a small town, the rules are lax).

Tucker is the one who picks up that Tim’s a tech genius. He was working on an app or new program and Tim was looking over his shoulder while he worked. “Their’s an easier way to program this.” Tim said absently. Tucker shrugged, slid his laptop over to Tim and watched this kids fingers fly over the keyboard. “Dude how do you know how to do this?” Tucker asked him, debating whether or not to beg this man to teach him his tricks or bow down and worship his almighty skills because what he’d just done was masterful. “I was the teams’s hacker. Meta’s are all good and fine when doing infiltration, but if we needed stealth I was usually called in.”

Tucker immediately went to write that down. New information. Tim’s dimension has Meta’s. Tucker assumed it was just another word for people with super powered abilities. They passed it on to ghost writer who informed them there were still way too many dimensions.

The next breakthrough happened when Danny was training with his mom. Maddie had taught both her kids how to protect themselves as she was well versed in many types of martial combat. They were having practice spars in the back yard with Tim sitting on the back steps watching. Maddie was the one who caught it. There was something about the way Tim was watching them spar that made her believe he was well versed. So he invited him onto the mat and they went ham.

Tim was laughing and somewhere along the lines he mentioned how he hadn’t had this much fun sparing since his young Justice days. Gently, Maddie pried while they continued their dance and they learned that Tim had been a hero named Robin and had been on a team with 3 other sidekicks named Superboy, Impulse, and Wonder Girl.

This narrowed down the list considerably to the point where Danny could take a weekend to send out members of the royal army to peak into each dimension and see if they could find someone with Tim’s name and Face who was missing.

They did learn Tim’s last name was Drake and in all the dimensions they visited he was either present and accounted for or already dead. Still Danny knew they were moving in the right direction. By this point Tim had been living at Fenton works for 2 months. He somehow seemed healthier than when he first arrived, and Danny loved having him around. Tim was awesome, and because of that he knew somewhere someone was desperately trying to find him so he’d get Tim home one way or another.

It was during this search that Danny felt a familiar tug on his core. Someone was summoning him. He could usually peak his head through invisibly and catch a glimpse of who was summoning him. He typically ignored cults, and if he had the energy he would show up at the random sleepover or two. Sometimes hero’s would summon him and typically he’d send someone in his place cause they were usually looking for help and most of the royal knights were trained by fright knight and could handle any issues the hero’s needed.

Because Danny was already looking into hero dimensions, and the people summoning him were clearly hero’s he accepted the summons and popped into the circle in all he kingly regalia.

“Hello!” He greets to the 13 or so people in the room and oh look at that! Are they in space? Danny’s pretty sure he’s physically vibrating right now keeping himself in this circle. He loves maping the stars in different dimension. Loves seeing how they differ from his own. “You’ve reached the King of the Infinte realms. How can I help you.”

Danny focused on an older guy in a trench coat who was radiating the same magic as the circle. He would be leading this conversation if he’d informed the group correctly. If anyone else spoke directly to him the circle would break. Not that this or any circle could actually bind Danny.

“We’re looking for someone who may be in your realm.” Trench coat began and Danny frowned.

“You know conversations usually start with introductions. I’ll start. I’m King Daniel Phantom, ancient of space, Guardian of doors, lover of the stars yada yada yada. May I inquire as to who has summoned me?”

“You can call me Constantine, these colorful folks behind me are the Justice league.”

“Right, well call me Danny. You said you’re looking for someone. If he’s a dead soul, I can’t help ya. Hades deals with spirits of the dead in his little corner of the infinite realms. I could definitely enroach upon his territory if I wanted to because it’s part of the realms and I rule the realms but that guy is a grade A asshole and I tend to leave him be. Now if he’s a ghost I might be able to help, but the realms are infinite and even I don’t know how many denizens are there. by the time we run a census on any of the city states, most have doubled in population..”

Oh yes, the inner workings of the realm were…stupid and complicated. No wonder there were so many observants. Not the point.

“There’s a difference between a soul and a ghost?” Someone asked and there went the power of the circle. Damn these heroes were dumb. Constantine looked panicked but Danny simply floated there with a hand on his chin wondering how much he could info dump before they got annoyed.

“Souls are what pass on into hades. Hades zone takes the form of whatever afterlife the passing believed in. Sometime, however, a person who passes has been exposed to enough ectoplasm that their soul reforms into something new. Those are ghosts. Their existence relies heavily on emotions, hence you run into a lot ghosts who died in gruesome or painful ways, or ghosts who feel way too much in their passing.” It’s why there were entire cities in the realm just full of ghosts who couldn’t pass on. “Usually if a ghost wishes to pass on to the actual after life they submit a request and it goes through me or my council. Those requests usually come from the more passively formed ghosts though. The ones who had too many regrets when they passed or were scared or left people behind. It’s a complicated system and not what you called me here to explain I’m sure. Anyway, do you think this person is a ghost or a soul. If they’re a soul I might be able to convince Hades to let them come say goodbye but can’t gaudente that. Again, grade A asshole, that one.”

“As far as we know he was alive when he fell through the portal.”

“The portal?” To answer to his question, someone held up a tablet and played some video footage. Sure enough that was Tim falling through a conveniently placed “natural portal.” Danny fucking loved sentient cities. No way that portal would have formed their other wise. “When did this happen?”

“A 2 weeks ago.” Only 2 weeks? Damn it had been two months back in Danny’s dimension. Time fluctuations were weird.

“So a hero falls through a weird green portal and it takes a 2 weeks for you to summon me? Why the ghost king specifically.” It was constantine who answered him.”

“I summoned a couple of demons first. They pointed me in your direction. Took me a while to find a circle that worked.”

“Oh ho ho?” Danny’s grin grew sharp. All teeth and too many of them. A few heroes flinched back, but Danny ignored them. “Demons you say? Happen to remember their names?” Someone was getting their ass handed to them later. Danny had sent notice out that he had a missing person they were trying to find the home dimension of. Fucking Hades and his shitty ass demons. He was not letting this slight slide. Hades may technically be an ancient, but Danny was still King and figured it was about time for another reminder.

Constantine rattled them off and Danny nodded, committing them to memory. “Good news is I know where Tim is. He’s got Amnesia so I dropped him off with a friend from the dimension I originate from and they’ve been taking care of him while I searched for his home dimension. Do you know how many dimensions I have to comb through. Ugh, whatever. The issue is that there’s a time difference between here and the dimension he’s staying in. 2 months have passed as opposed to your 2 week. I can guarantee if I leave to go get him now at least two days will pass before you see me again. I will go get him, obviously, just wanted to let you know what to expect. My teams hope is that when he gets back to his home dimension his memories will start coming back faster, but it’s an unknown. He was lightly concussed when was brought to me, but that’s healed. Our guess is that either someone hit him just right or the sudden shift in dimensions messed with his memory. He’s been remembering things slowly, but it’s only bits and pieces. Other than that he’s healed and completely healthy.”

“That’s…the best news we’ve heard all week.” Danny gave Nightwing a soft understanding smile , probably picking up on the waves of relief pouring off of him.

“Right, I’ll be back with him soon then.”

Nightwing barely managed to keep it together until Danny was gone. As soon as the ghost king left through his own portal the vigilanti had collapsed to the ground, the relief of a possible answer to his missing brother overwhelming him. Cass was by his side immediately, reassuring him that the ghost had seemed honest in his body language at least and had come across as relieved despite all his rambling.

It had been a horribly hectic 2 weeks. Tim hadn’t checked in at the end of his patrol and Tim always checked in. That was the first red flag. So oracle traced his steps, found the last sighting of Tim on top a building near the narrows. It was clear that he wasn’t 100%. Tim was exhausted, and he’d stopped to take a breather after finishing a fight only for someone to sneak up behind him and hit him off the roof. The sheer panic of Tim possibly being dead in an alleyway nearly sent Dick into a panic attack, but halfway down the building the shadows condensed into…something, and a portal opened up right before Tim his the ground. The portal itself…was weird. It was a familiar green and that was terrifying.

Everyone knew about the weird mini war going on between Ra’s and Tim and that green was familiar. There weren’t a lot of League basses left, but Dick found them and together with his family they tore them apart. Still no Tim. So they called in the magic users and Constantine had said it seemed familiar but he’d ask around. Apparently that meant demons, and they all snickered when asked.

“Lost and found ain’t our department. If you want answers talk to the king.” At least that was a clue in the right direction. It ended in all the bats and half the Justice league scouring the world for information on a summoning circle for a new king because the old one was dead…or something.

Even the circle they’d used today was a long shot, but their the king was Daniel Phantom. Couldn’t be any older than Tim, and was also the king?

Constantine was laughing in that hysterical way of his. “You released him from his circle. I told you not to ask him questions or the circle would break. Ghosts rule through right of conquest. That kid defeated the previous king, the mad tyrant, in single combat. He is arguably the strongest being in existence and you should all be grateful he seems like a goofy kid because he could have wiped us out without a second thought.”

Dick ignored him. Taking a deep breath for the first time since Tim went missing. Two more days. He could handle two more days.

Danny returned home with good news obviously. The bad news was that they were saying goodbye to someone they now considered a friend. And even though Tim was excited to finally find he’s actual home and maybe get his memories back, he also seemed sad to go as well. So Danny pulled Tim around town, let him say goodbye to everyone he wanted to. Then piled Tim, Sam, and Tucker into the speeder, and sliced a hole through the realms into Tim’s dimension.

The portal opened right over where the summoning circle used to be. No one was their yet. That was probably Danny’s fault. He hadn’t exactly informed them where he’d be coming back to. Oh well, they’d figure it out soon enough. He shifted back to his human form and huddled next to the speeder with the the others until Nightwing came sprinting through the door and practically tackled Tim into a hug. Danny and co held back for a moment, watching as Tim went from confused, to defensive to practically melting into the hug. It was like something in his eyes cleared for the first time and the crew knew Tim would be okay.

They stood to the side as more bat/bird themed individuals came in, as Tim was surrounded by people he immediately recognized and hugged. It was heart warming. And then Tim dragged everyone over to the speeder.

“Guys, this is Sam, Tucker, and Danny. They looked out for me while I was missing and helped me find my way home.” Some awkward introductions were passed around. Dick hugged everyone.

Tucker handed Tim a phone that was programmed to be able to communicate between dimensions. Sam gave him a plant and made him swear to deliver it to pamala Isley. Danny just…

Actually Danny doesn’t do anything before Tim pulls him into a massive hug. “I expect you to visit me.”

“Not sure I could ignore you if we’re being honest. Your definitely one of the more interesting missing persons cases I’ve dealt with. Also Tucker will miss his hacking buddy.” Tim laugh and it felt like the most beautiful thing Danny had heard. “I bet I can bribe clockwork into resetting my dimensions time rate so that ours can match.”

“Aww, you’d do that for me?” And the shit eating grin told Danny he was teasing him. Jokes on Tim though. Loyalty’s his fatal flaw, and half his obsession is protection. How’s he gonna protect the newest member of his friend group if they’re not aging the at same rate?

“I’d do a lot for you Tim. Don’t test me. Sam and Tuck already tried; it did not end well.” For the other guy. “Now go have your happy reunion with you family. Shoot us a message when you want to hang out.”

So with one final goodbye Danny and Co head home and Tim returns to Gotham with his family.

When Danny visits Gotham later on the first thing he does is track down Lady Gotham and gives her the energy boost she rightly deserves. He thanks her as well for looking out for her hero’s so well.

All in all it’s a happy ending. Also somehow word spread about the absolute throw down Danny had planned for Hades because his demons kept important information from the king, and their was a crowd for that beat down. Naturally Danny won.

Did I make signatures for all of them? Yes. Was it fun? Yes. Was it completely unnecessary but bugging me? Absolutely. So here you go!! Batfam signatures. (Duke and some others will be next pls don't come for me.)

Have my Wraith! Tim Drake Au

Backstory and full outfit sketch board in the works.

I also have a Jason Todd and Tim Drake centric fic ongoing. (Cuckoo by Coincidence on AO3 if you're interested)

The promised Au Board and outfit sketches. More to come.

This is an AU where Jason never dies. Bruce doesn't accuse him of murder and he's there to meet Sheila and in time to save Jay from Joker. Jason doesn't continue being Robin and instead goes by BlueBird. (Au board for him later) While Jason is recovering, Joker & Harley kidnap Tim and JJ happens. B & Babs never found out who the kid was and Tim's parents didn't notice anything happened. A few years later the Drake's trade Tim to Ra’s for him hiding them after they ran from the police for tax evasion. Ra’s goes “Free Heir!!” and raises Tim. Damien is Tim's little brother once he is born. The official story for where Tim Drake is is that he's staying overseas with Jack's estranged half-brother after his parents died. Tim comes back to Gotham at 16 to take over at Drake Industries and reintegrate into High Society. Wraith is an informant mostly, though they famously hate and beat up or k*ll ab*sers and tr***ckers. They understand but don't adhere to the no-kill rule. Wraith interacts with BlueBird the most out of the Bats.

if i bend under the weight + sun bleached flies

synopsis: tim's super! s/o gets hit with kryptonite and gets stuck under a building tags: gn! reader, blood, broken bones, needles, panic attacks part of my dc augu-whumpers series ; requests for this are open!

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PREVIEW.

"Was that a crash? Damn, that was loud."

"A building collapsed in the far east. Supers is in charge of that area."

"Supers? You there? Status report. What happened?"

“Shit! Shit! Shit! They’ve been hit with Kryptonite. Vitals are unstable! Someone get there now!”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Tim cried too, tears mingling with the grime on his face. “I’m sorry, I know, I know, baby. Please! Come on, we have to get up.”

⋅────⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰────⋅

You were a super.

A near-indestructible hero with strength beyond measure. People watched in awe as you deflected bullets, halted runaway trains, and shattered barriers that would have left ordinary heroes in ruin.

To them, you were an immovable rock, impervious to life’s storms, a being untouched by doubt or weakness.

You had grown used to this. You were used to being seen as strong, so much so that you rarely had backup on missions. You were often sent out alone, expected to handle every crisis on your own. After all, you were a super. You fought solo, without regret, without asking for assistance. You believed you could bear it all.

But now, you found yourself beneath the skeletal remains of a collapsed building, the wreckage pressing down on you with a force that should have been a mere inconvenience. Dust and debris swirled around you in the dim light filtering through cracks in the rubble. The once-sturdy structure groaned and creaked as if protesting your struggle.

Normally, you would have lifted the wreckage effortlessly, but something was terribly wrong with your powers. Your hands, usually so strong, trembled as they strained against the concrete. You could feel the weight of each individual slab pressing down on you, pinning you to the ground.

Kryptonite, you thought, the realization hitting you with a force almost as crushing as the debris. The last memory you remember is being hit with a green glow.

Whimpering, you took a deep breath, strands of damp hair fell over your eyes, clinging to your sweat-soaked forehead. The burn in your side, a sharp and unfamiliar sting, pierced through the usual numbness. Your breathing came in ragged gasps, each inhale heavy with the smell of dust and despair. You had grown so accustomed to invincibility that pain felt like an unwelcome stranger. The once-mighty walls of your strength seemed to be crumbling, just like the debris around you.

There was a ringing in your ears, a harsh buzz that grew louder. You realized it was your communication link, crackling with urgency. You heaved, your head lolling to the side as you struggled to keep the building aloft. Every muscle screamed in protest, and the once-lightweight concrete now felt like it was made of lead.

"Supers? You there?"

Someone's voice echoed in your ear, Batman you think, steady and calm.

"Where are you? We need some backup here, stat."

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump in your throat. Your eyes drooped, the weight of your exhaustion pulling them down. "S… Sorry. I'm in a situation right now. I can't provide backup. Might actually need some..."

There was a pause, a brief silence that felt like an eternity.

"How serious is your situation? I don’t think anyone will be able to help you for a while. Think you can handle it?"

You could hear the detachment in his voice, the cold, clinical tone that expected you to push through just as you always had. There was no urgency, no hint of concern—just an unwavering belief that you would somehow manage.

Belief that a super could hold their own.

You blinked away the growing tears, shifting your position slightly to alleviate the burning in your side. The ringing in your ears had subsided, replaced by the dull roar of your own heartbeat.

"O—okay. I think I can hold on for a bit." Your voice was barely more than a whisper, the words forced out through gritted teeth.

The comm-link clicked off, the abrupt silence leaving you alone with the weight of the world pressing down on you.

You struggled as you lifted the building, feeling the bones in your wrists start to give way under the pressure. A sharp, searing pain shot through your arms as the bones cracked, the sickening sound lost in the groaning of the collapsing structure.

Your palms were now raw and bleeding, cut by the jagged edges of the debris. Warm blood trickled down your arms and you heaved, throat dry.

Tears mingled with the sweat on your face, blurring your vision. You blinked them away, focusing on the task at hand. You had to hold on. You had to keep fighting. The world above depended on it.

Slowly, agonizingly, you managed to lift the building a few inches. It was a minuscule shift, but it was enough to make a difference. The weight shifted slightly, and you could see a small gap forming. With a final, desperate effort, you managed to lift the wreckage high enough to create a gap wide enough for you to fly out.

As you emerged into the open air, you collapsed onto the ground, your breathing ragged and uneven.

For now, at least, you had held on.

 ༻⊰───⋅

"Was that a crash? Damn, that was loud."

"A building collapsed in the far east. Supers is in charge of that area."

"Supers? You there? Status report. What happened?"

“Shit! Shit! Shit! They’ve been hit with kryptonite. Vitals are unstable! Someone get there now!”

There was a cold, icy feeling sinking deep into Tim's bones as he heard the announcement through his earpiece. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat feeling slower and more labored than the last.

He quickly checked his location on his communicator. The display flickered with stark, cold reality—he was indeed the nearest to the scene, but still a grueling 15 minutes away. The distance seemed to stretch into an endless expanse, each second feeling like an eternity.

Without hesitation, he sprinted to his bike, his movements driven by sheer adrenaline. The cold, numbing fear was replaced by a burning urgency as he mounted the bike and roared to life. He maneuvered through traffic with reckless speed, weaving and cutting corners as if each second lost could mean a life.

As he drove, the cold, numbing fear slowly began to ebb away, melting into a fiery, scalding anger.

"Why the fuck weren't there reinforcements?!" he shouted into the earpiece, his voice laced with frustration and desperation. "Did no one think to check the fucking area? Is everyone just sitting around with their heads up their asses?!"

The bike roared beneath him, and his driving became even more reckless. Tim leaned into every turn, the engine's growl mingling with his furious breaths. He spotted a fence ahead, a barrier that seemed to mock his urgency.

Without a second thought, he gunned the throttle, launching the bike into the air. The bike soared, crashing through the fence with a deafening crack. Concrete and debris exploded around him as he slammed into the ground on the other side. The impact jarred his bones and rattled his teeth, but he barely registered the pain.

He tore through the final stretch of the city streets, his bike a blur of metal and fury. The wreckage came into view, a twisted maze of steel and concrete.

Tim skidded to a halt, his heart pounding furiously as he dismounted. He spotted you, hunched over right beside the collapsed rubble, your blood seeping into the grass.

Tim’s heart felt as though it was being torn in two as he saw the state you were in. His rage gave way to the deep, icy fear again as he rushed forward.

With trembling hands, he carefully rolled you onto your back, his gaze sweeping over your injuries.

Your face was ghostly pale, streaked with a grimy mix of dirt and blood. Each shallow, labored breath you took seemed to cut through the air with an echo of a sob. The severity of your injuries was laid bare—cuts and bruises marred your skin, each wound a painful testament to the violence you had endured. Blood pooled around you, a dark, crimson stain against the surrounding debris, making his stomach churn with a sickening nausea.

His eyes fell to your wrists, and he was horrified by the sight of them—clearly broken, twisted at unnatural angles.

He leaned down, his voice softening with a tender, almost broken affection.

“Hi, pretty bird,” he whispered. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“Kryptonite,” you rasp out, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“I know, I know,” he whispers back, his voice low and soothing. He reaches into his utility belt, pulling out a syringe with a green needle, filled with a bright, clear liquid. It was an antidote, a precaution he had hoped never to use.

Tim was always prepared for every situation, his mind a labyrinth of strategies and contingencies. One of the many things you loved about him. His meticulous nature meant that nothing was left to chance, and that care extended to you, his lover.

His hand was steady as he moved to insert the needle, but when you thrashed in pain, he realized too late that the entry had been rougher than he intended.

The sharp intake of breath you took, the wince that crossed your face—these were things he had rarely seen, and he realized just how fragile you were in this moment.

Tim had always relied on your metahuman durability, knowing that you could handle whatever force he threw your way, trusting in your strength without a second thought.

Then you screamed and cried, your sobs echoing through the night. The pain was unbearable, a relentless pressure squeezing you from every angle. Tim’s face crumpled in horror and panic, his usually calm demeanor cracking under the weight of your suffering.

He administered the antidote with trembling hands, his movements hurried yet tender. The needle was pulled away with a gentleness that belied his growing panic.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, moving to comfort you. “I didn’t mean for it to hurt. Please, just hold on. I’m right here.”

His hands were unsteady as he brushed the sweat and tears from your face, touch as gentle as he could manage despite his own mounting panic.

Tim was losing his grip. The sight of you, so vulnerable and hurting, was terrifying and so, so, so unfamiliar, driving him to a near hysterical state.

The antidote began to take effect, the green glow from the syringe slowly dissipating as it worked to counteract the kryptonite’s effects. But Tim’s relief was fleeting. The urgency of the situation pressed down on him, and he realized with a jolt that he needed to get you to a safer location.

“Come on, pretty bird, I need to get you up,” he said, his voice quivering with desperation.

Each attempt to lift you was met with new waves of agony, your screams slicing through the air like a jagged blade. Your cries were heart-wrenching, each one a brutal slash against his soul, unraveling him with every tortured note. The dark, red stains seeped into his heart, a reminder of how he was failing you.

Tim cried too, tears mingling with the grime on his face. “I’m sorry, I know, I know, baby. Please! Come on, we have to get up.”

With a desperate heave, he dragged you into his arms. You shuddered violently, your body wracked with ragged, sputtering sobs. Tim's heart squeezed with each gasping breath you took, and then, with a final, shuddering exhale, you fainted, your body going limp against him.

Panic surged through Tim like a tidal wave. His breath came in frantic bursts as he cradled you, trying to stay calm despite the overwhelming fear clawing at him. His hand fumbled for his comm device, his movements erratic and desperate.

He knew he had the skills—both medical and analytical—to assess your situation and manage it. His training had equipped him with the ability to stabilize injuries, evaluate critical conditions, and make quick decisions under pressure. But now, those skills felt useless against the crushing weight of his fear.

“Someone, please!” he screamed into the device, throat raw. "Help me!"

 ༻⊰───⋅

Tim: laughing in destroyed multiple LOA bases, is feral on a good day, has zero chill and has blackmail on everyone in Gotham worth having blackmail for.

Steph: Okay, what is the worst thing you've ever done?

Tim, tied in the lasso of truth that steph somehow managed to nab: Oh, that's a hard one, I'll have to think about that

Jason: Why, cause your such a goodie goodie that ya can't even think of anything?

Tim: *uncontrollable laughter*

The summary of the fic I'm writing is just:

Ten-year-old!Tim intercepting Nightwing on patrol: hi

Nightwing: Hi there buddy :) you lost?

Tim: no

Nightwing: Do you need help?

Tim: no

Nightwing: ? What do you need then?

Tim, shyly: can you do a somersault for me?

Nightwing: Oh! I can do that :) which one?

Tim: the quadruple somersault please

Nightwing: Okay-

Tim: the one that only Flying Graysons could do.

Nightwing: ...Is that right?

Tim: i know you're Dick Grayson. adopt me and I won't tell anyone

Nightwing:

Nightwing, squinting: You're the Drake kid. When did you become an orphan?

Tim: i didn't

Tim: but I can if that's a requirement

Nightwing: Are you suggesting you would kill your parents?

Tim: ...no?

Nightwing: Kid-

Tim: my name's Tim

Nightwing: Tim, you can't kill your parents.

Tim, stubbornly: you can't parent me until you adopt me

Nightwing, remembering how much he put Bruce through: This is karma.

One month later

Bruce: Dick! I didn't know you were visiting! Not that I'm upset, I'm really glad, it's just a surpise-

Bruce: Whose kid is that.

Dick, exhausted: Mine apparently.

Tim: hi :D

Bruce, assuming Tim is five because he's small: You got someone pregnant at sixteen?

Jason, at the same time: You stole a kid?

Tim: I know you're Batman and Robin :D

Dick: What part of this looks like I had a choice. He was planning to kill his parents.

Tim: they just handed over custody so I didn't have to :D

Dick: I'm sorry for being a difficult kid, but please fix this, he's not eating

Jason: Have you tried peanut butter or potatoes?

Bruce: He knows our identities? And planned to kill his parents?

Dick, ignoring Bruce: Tim's not a dog.

Tim: i like peanut butter. and potatoes

Jason: See, Dickhead? I know stuff.

Dick: You're the smartest person ever, Little Wing, now how do I make that into a full meal

Bruce: Why does a murderous child know our identities?

Dick, frowning: Let the kid eat first, Bruce.

Jason: Yeah, Bruce. Why do you want the kid to starve?

Bruce: I didn't-

Tim: you want me to starve? i'm sorry :(

Bruce: Oh my God

🤣🤣🤣

Red hood was on a stake out with Red Robin

Suddenly a guy around tims age just, comes up

And sticks his whole hand into red hoods chest

He pulls some green stuff out, let's it sizzle in his hand for a bit before sticking his hand into jasons chest again

Then he leaves with the words "that probably should feel better now"

Jason is freaking out over it but the pit madness is gone

And Tim is having a mental breakdown cause he found that hot and that's concerning

I'm invested.

Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!

"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."

Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.

"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"

But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.

"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"

An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)

"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"

"...Losers bet...."

Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.

"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."

He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.

Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)

"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"

Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.

Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.

"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."

"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."

"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."

"Talia."

Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.

So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.

It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...

Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.

After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.

And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.

He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...

"my child is fine"

your child is crying at 2am over tim drake centric fanfics

Tim!!! The silly :)

Explanation and a little fic under the cut ⬇

So, initially, i was thinking of this as Tim in a casket of his making, him thinking even if he died no one would be there for the funeral and therefore it would be his responsibility to lay himself down on his bed of roses, attend his funeral, live as lonely as he thought he was. And so, dying alone.

But!! I actually really like the Immortal!Tim Aus so it could also be that.

Imagine this: [Death and apathy to death TW]

Tim discovered he was immortal at a younger age than most, neglected toddlers have a high death rate, so he died as a baby. He doesnt remember much, if not for the one and only scar on his neck, easily hidden by his hair. He assumes he broke his neck, falling out of something, but no one was there to tell him how he died, so he will never know. With that, started the deaths. Never any scarring from them, if not for the first one, but he died a lot.

When he turned into Robin, he didn't think to hide that. Sure, Batman has a "no metas" rule, but he has no activated meta gene. He is not a meta. He is just... unusual. So he died. A lot. He always came back, but he thought at least someone noticed it. If only for a bit, anyone noticed his heartbeat stopping.

If he had asked any of the supers he met, they would've told him his heart stopped all the time and they thought he had a mechanism for that, to throw them off his tail, like Batman did. He didn't though, never thought to ask, and so it happened.

The Incident, so to speak. It was another patrol day, going to the docks to bust a drug smuggling, meeting up with Nightwing for some paired patrol for a few hours and go back home. However, they got caught in an ambush, close to the last hours of patrol, just some goons. But, Tim hadn't died in a couple weeks, as he hadn't slept for the same time. And, usually, death takes the same effect as sleeping, if less peaceful. He thought of resting after his shift, actually.

So, really, when the goon, gun in hand, positioned himself to shoot Tim in the head, he didn't think to dodge. His only thought was "Huh, that's an easier way". So he got shot. In front of Nightwing.

But, at the time, he still thought they knew. They knew he died and came back, that the "Dead Robins Club" that he was not invited to was a joke, because they could count the amount of times they died and Tim couldn't. That they knew him.

He wakes up gasping. Not an unusual reaction. Whats unusual about this is that it's dark and he can feel petals beneath him. And that there is little oxygen and he just wasted most by gasping for air.

His next few deaths are asphyxiation. His next many deaths are asphyxiation too, this time with lungs full of dirt.

He doesnt know how much time he spends alive, nor how much time he spends dead. He just knows, far too many deaths passed when he gets out of his grave. So many deaths in fact, he learns a new thing about this ability of his. Dying repeatedly for a long time makes his healing factor only heal the cause of his death. He notes that as he finds his fingertips and fingernails bleeding. He will have to fix that in his next death.

He guesses he can finally join the Dead Robins Club. Having to crawl out of his own grave seems like a good enough reason. Still, his clothes are soiled and torn and he bets the autopsy scars have faded by now. So, all he has to do is fix his grave and prepare a new identity. After that, he can go look for another name Jason used before for him to steal into his new persona.

Would he tell the others he was alive? Maybe eventually, not in the same way Jason did though. But he does feel a bit of joy just thinking ways he could mess with them. It's their fault anyway, for thinking he could stay dead.

Tim!!! The silly :)

Explanation and a little fic under the cut ⬇

So, initially, i was thinking of this as Tim in a casket of his making, him thinking even if he died no one would be there for the funeral and therefore it would be his responsibility to lay himself down on his bed of roses, attend his funeral, live as lonely as he thought he was. And so, dying alone.

But!! I actually really like the Immortal!Tim Aus so it could also be that.

Imagine this: [Death and apathy to death TW]

Tim discovered he was immortal at a younger age than most, neglected toddlers have a high death rate, so he died as a baby. He doesnt remember much, if not for the one and only scar on his neck, easily hidden by his hair. He assumes he broke his neck, falling out of something, but no one was there to tell him how he died, so he will never know. With that, started the deaths. Never any scarring from them, if not for the first one, but he died a lot.

When he turned into Robin, he didn't think to hide that. Sure, Batman has a "no metas" rule, but he has no activated meta gene. He is not a meta. He is just... unusual. So he died. A lot. He always came back, but he thought at least someone noticed it. If only for a bit, anyone noticed his heartbeat stopping.

If he had asked any of the supers he met, they would've told him his heart stopped all the time and they thought he had a mechanism for that, to throw them off his tail, like Batman did. He didn't though, never thought to ask, and so it happened.

The Incident, so to speak. It was another patrol day, going to the docks to bust a drug smuggling, meeting up with Nightwing for some paired patrol for a few hours and go back home. However, they got caught in an ambush, close to the last hours of patrol, just some goons. But, Tim hadn't died in a couple weeks, as he hadn't slept for the same time. And, usually, death takes the same effect as sleeping, if less peaceful. He thought of resting after his shift, actually.

So, really, when the goon, gun in hand, positioned himself to shoot Tim in the head, he didn't think to dodge. His only thought was "Huh, that's an easier way". So he got shot. In front of Nightwing.

But, at the time, he still thought they knew. They knew he died and came back, that the "Dead Robins Club" that he was not invited to was a joke, because they could count the amount of times they died and Tim couldn't. That they knew him.

He wakes up gasping. Not an unusual reaction. Whats unusual about this is that it's dark and he can feel petals beneath him. And that there is little oxygen and he just wasted most by gasping for air.

His next few deaths are asphyxiation. His next many deaths are asphyxiation too, this time with lungs full of dirt.

He doesnt know how much time he spends alive, nor how much time he spends dead. He just knows, far too many deaths passed when he gets out of his grave. So many deaths in fact, he learns a new thing about this ability of his. Dying repeatedly for a long time makes his healing factor only heal the cause of his death. He notes that as he finds his fingertips and fingernails bleeding. He will have to fix that in his next death.

He guesses he can finally join the Dead Robins Club. Having to crawl out of his own grave seems like a good enough reason. Still, his clothes are soiled and torn and he bets the autopsy scars have faded by now. So, all he has to do is fix his grave and prepare a new identity. After that, he can go look for another name Jason used before for him to steal into his new persona.

Would he tell the others he was alive? Maybe eventually, not in the same way Jason did though. But he does feel a bit of joy just thinking ways he could mess with them. It's their fault anyway, for thinking he could stay dead.

Damian: I am darkness. I am an power. I am your worst nightmare. I could kill a man in more ways than you can imagine. I am the night. I am fury, I am a weapon, I am-  Dick : A doll.  Tim: A cinnamon roll.  Jason: A sweetheart.  Damian: Damian: ...stop it.

Jason: I want to be like a caterpillar.  Damian : Explain.  Jason: Eat a lot, sleep for a while, wake up beautiful.  Dick: You know they have a lifespan of a week, right?  Jason: Jason: That's just another highlight