aiwes
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bury the dead where they're found by bugbee, cassiopeia721, liverobinreaction (bugbee)
Fandom Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
14 Apr 2024
Summary
Tim Drake is incapable of dying.
He doesn’t exactly tell anyone this.
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Summary
When he ends up ditched in Atlanta after a fight with his dad, Tim decides to do the only sensible thing: Tell no one and make the 800 mile journey back to Gotham on his own.
Because the "call Batman when you're in trouble" rule only applies when he's Robin, right?
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the fire eats fire (and the fire's in you) by Scarlet_Ribbons
Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types
22 Feb 2024
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Summary
He also can’t exactly go licking himself, either— not because he isn’t able to, but because when one is under the mentorship of Batman, one of the aforementioned greatest detectives on Earth, one is likely to be questioned if an injury just vanishes. The first time one of Tim’s battle wounds seems to heal all too quickly, Bruce startles him by asking about it.
“Uh,” Tim says eloquently, “Er. I suppose it just wasn’t that bad."
Bruce looks past him at the exact point on the floor of the Batcave where Tim had lost like a pint of blood the day before.
“Wasn’t that bad,” he echoes dryly.
[Tim just happens to be a very large, fire-breathing lizard. He manages, until he doesn't.]
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World’s Saddest Breakfast Club by motleyfam for batmoniker
Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman: Wayne Family Adventures (Webcomic)
31 Jul 2021
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Summary
Following a couple of Very Bad Weeks™ (which may or may not have involved being kidnapped and mildly tortured), Jason decides the best way to cheer himself up is to break into the Manor for a 3 a.m. snack.
Turns out he isn’t the only one awake.
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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.