#ghost Tim drake

[smilesheartshugs]

Halloween AU:

Bruce: a werbat

Can shapeshift into a bat by the light of the moon. Think vampire but without the sun and garlic allergies and without the need to drink blood.

Dick: some horror creature with no bones

He’s light and bendy that allows him to do inhuman acrobatics

Jason: a goul

A zombi like creature that needs to eat flesh to survive (so a carnivore)

Tim: a ghost

Tim died to neglect. No one goes to his room so one day when his parent where out of town and they forgot to hire someone to take care of Tim, he ran out of food. For comfort he curled up in a hidden cubby he discovered in his closet. Tim never made it out of his cubby hole.

Tim became a ghost, ghost are tangible unlike the transparent pop culture depiction. Ghost Tim was there to greet his parents, no one noticed he died.

With nothing better to do Tim watched his body decompose in the cubby hole in the closet.

When he joins the Waynes he doesn’t tell them that he’s died. As far as the Waynes are aware Tim is a normal human boy.

Damian: a nature spirit

Can communicate with animals. Can get animals to do his bidding but he doesn’t like to override the will of the animal so be usally avoids that

Cas: a blood witch

Was trained from an early age to use combat spells and curse.

Steph: a Jackle (I think that’s what the creature I’m thinking of is called)

A wer dog like creature. She can choose any bread of dog to shift into. It comes in handy on missions to choose what kind of dog. Her favorite shift is a golden retriever.

Duke: Will of the wisp

Has a human form though prefers to stay in his ball of light form

Barbra: a tech sprite

Can travel between devices. Has a holographic form when outside of technology. Can literally surf through information

Continuation here:

[sendrew]

Dead Robin Tim AU

Tim Drake goes out birdwatching one evening.

Tim Drake comes back a little different than he went out.

Fanart for an unposted part of:

aka: Ghost Tim!AU

[skydrag0n]

Bernard is not doing too hot in the Necklace Ghost fic planning right now, but hey now that he’s gotten concussed he can see the supernatural (aka Tim)

[batfam-fanfics]

can't turn back now, i'm haunted by Ch3shireSmil3

4 part series - 5453 words

Eventually, the batfamily will find out what happened to Tim Drake. Eventually, they'll find out he was killed years before becoming Robin.

(@two-sibyls-tall)

[sleep-deprived-tim]

Another ghost! Im sorry you died though but being a ghost isnt as depressing as you think it is...

💀🐦

Oh hello ghost! Thanks.. that helps actually. Just watched one of my brothers cry over me... which wasn't fun...

[msfcatlover]

Every Monster Can’t Be Your Kid, Bruce.

Inspired really heavily by You, Me, and the Humanity in Between by JUBE514, which I misunderstood the first time I read it and thought they were all going to be different types of monsters. So Dick & Jason are very close to that story in their origins here. You should absolutely read that fic, because it’s fantastic, but the major take away for my AU is that if you pour enough love into something, it can come to life, and the more life & love it carries the more “real” that life becomes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dick is an antique doll, handed down through generations of Graysons, becoming gradually more alive & aware as time went on. It was John Grayson and eventually his wife Mary who managed to tip Dick over into being animate even when people were watching him. Dick only became more & more real from there, as John & Mary shared their love of flying with him, and eventually shared the spotlight & love of their audience. The circus as a whole saw Dick as a blessing, being fully aware of his inhuman nature but accepting him as a source of good luck… until John & Mary fell, leaving their doll-son behind. Dick could actually see his place in the family he’d been part of turn towards superstitious whispers, as his movements stiffened and his joints became more visible. He wasn’t anyone’s good luck charm anymore.

Bruce also saw how everyone turned on that poor little boy, and rushed to give Dick a place to stay, haunted by the whispers of his own childhood that found ways to blame Bruce for what happened to Thomas & Martha Wayne. Bruce isn’t exactly great at expressing his love, but Dick never needs to doubt it when he can see & feel the evidence right there in his own body. And when Robin met the rest of the hero community, they loved him too, giving Dick the chance to actually grow up for the first time in almost 150yrs.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The first thing Jason ever experienced was love, as the city itself brought him to life. The second thing was freedom, as Jason slipped from the rooftop he’d been carved for and for the first time experienced flight. The third was agony, as Jason struck the ground and his wings snapped right off.

Jason’s not technically a gargoyle. Gargoyles are structurally important, directing water away from the building, and basically never come to life. Jason is a grotesque, carved for decoration & to ward off evil spirits. Without any family to go to, Jason stuck to that second job, protecting the people of his neighborhood as best he could. Batman investigated what he thought was a new vigilante, and found a boy carved from solid stone who could almost pass for human if he stayed out of the light. Bruce worried Jason would suffer the same rejection Dick had, and offered Jason a home; it took some convincing to tempt Jason away from his territory, as it is in Jason’s nature to stay in place in order to protect, but eventually Jason agreed in exchange for training.

(The new Robin doesn’t bend or jerk the way the last one did, but he hits the ground like a meteor strike, and rakes gouges in brick with his claws. He doesn’t shatter & grin through any injury, because most weapons glance off or shatter themselves against his stony skin.)

(Joker submerged a boy carved from centuries-old limestone in an acid bath, and by the time it was drained there wasn’t enough left to animate. Bruce still called every magician he knew, hoping to hear someone say Jason was still alive despite that.)

(Talia had a marble sculpture carved, and had what was retrieved from Jason’s coffin sealed at its core. It still took one hell of a ritual to bring him back, now with a tail that lashed & wings that swept the ground behind him to go with the fangs & claws he’d always had. The new body was perfect in the way only sculptures can be, and Jason just kept himself covered up rather than bother painting & repainting color onto his skin every time he went out in public, lacking the love to lock it in.)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Tim was the opposite of his brothers. If you love something, anything, you can bring it to life; if something goes unloved & ignored, on the other hand… Tim just slowly faded into the background of his own life. Nobody talked to him at galas. His parents overlooked him at dinner. Other kids avoided him, while staff wouldn’t look him in the eye. Until one day Tim’s teacher was calling attendance and called Tim’s name three times before Tim abruptly stood up, chair screeching across the floor, and snapped, “I said, I’m right here!” The whole class stared wide-eyed, as though Tim has appeared from nowhere.

Tim learned to take advantage of it. He learned what he could do, as something reality itself sometimes ignored (if Tim closes his eyes and has no one else observing him, he can even bypass laws of physics to move through walls or take a few steps out on open air.) Tim tried to convince himself it was just meta-powers manifesting, and it was pure coincidence how closely his condition mirrored mythical Echo (at least people always hear her voice.)

The only time it doesn’t work is if someone wants to notice Tim. A paradox, as first they need to know the true Tim well enough to want to notice him, rather than their own preconceived notion of Tim or one of the masks that Tim puts on. On the plus side, once Tim became Robin that meant he had people he could reach out to who would answer the phone & talk him through it when reality felt especially swimmy or Tim’s own sense of self might waver. Being overlooked is also just one hell of a superpower, and Tim puts it to good use.

(Tim is eternally annoyed once he starts getting close to people and can no longer slip past them. He demands to know why they can see him, and they’re like, “Because we want to? Because we care about you?” and Tim’s like, “Well that’s inconvenient!”)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Finding a decapitated teenage girl caught under one of the docks was just an especially depressing day for the Gotham PD. Finding a corpse that grabbed back when the coroner went to move it meant it was time to call in the Batman. Steph didn’t know Morse code and her eyes & ears were currently stuck somewhere in muffled darkness far away from the rest of her, so communication was rough but they eventually got her story out of her. Revenants come back for specific reasons, so it was expected she would be there when her father was apprehended; the words he screamed when he saw her corpse, and the beeline Steph made for the box under his workbench put any remaining doubts to rest. Steph picked the lock by touch, and retrieved her head with a huff of relief.

Then Robin said, “Did you find it?” and Steph jumped, throwing her head at him on instinct. It was very embarrassing for both of them, and when Robin handed Steph her head back and she balanced it back on her neck, she immediately started blushing.

(Bruce buys Steph a whole lot of beautiful “necklaces” to help keep her head balanced. Spoiler is the Headless Horseman of Gotham, and Steph finds it hilarious to play into the image. She no longer experiences true pain, just deep discomfort, and gets very good at lobbing her head like a grisly dodgeball at anyone she dislikes.)

(Steph’s a lot more lively than most people expect of the undead, eating & chattering, even getting sick sometimes. She loudly proclaims that the best part of losing her head is that she no longer has to taste it when she throws up, as long as she’s quick enough removing it—when Steph does puke, it’s mostly bilge-water, no matter what she put in her stomach ahead of time.)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Cass is a homunculus, but I have no details. Damian’s got his “mixed DNA clone” origin going on. That’s where I’m at with this one.

[ktkat99]

Chapter 16

Being Robin is a lonely, stressful job. Thank goodness Dick and Jason are able to make fast friends with Timmy, the mysterious little ghost haunting Wayne Manor.

[ghost-bxrd]

Headcanon that when Jason so much as says “ow..” on the comms the rest of the batfam immediately assume he must be dying.

[strange-birb]

Had to when I saw the quote lol

I love Jason sm 😂

Og post @batfam-imagines

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Seeing ghosts in Gotham

He’s walking alone. Despite how dark it is, he’s not particularly nervous, not like the couple of people hovering in an alley.

His shift at Batburger went a little long, not that he’s complaining, he needed the money.

Everything is fine. Splendid. Fantastic. A little quiet, enough to pretend it’s a nice stroll home like it was back in Amity. Of course that all kind of goes up in flames when a dark figure drops into a crouch right in front of him. About two arm lengths away is a guy who straightens to a little taller than Danny himself. From the flickering street light across the street he can spot red, crisscross yellow, and a dark cape.

Red Robin.

Danny shakes his head and turns around.

“Nope.”

A smaller body is already standing behind him, blocking his path. The little guy with a serious face folds his arms across his chest as if challenging Danny to try to get by him.

He’s had enough tussles with Danielle to know better than to test the kid.

Danny rubs at his eyes with a hand, purposefully keeping the other limp at his side. He turns back around.

“Okay. Fine. What? What do you want?”

“You sent in a folder of information to solve the Boothe case,” Red Robin states confidently like there wasn’t any doubt it was Danny who sent it in.

He frowns. It was sent in anonymously. As in they shouldn’t be able to know it was him. Then again they are detectives in their own right even if they dress weird.

“See? This is why no one helps out the police if they’re gonna get grilled for it later on,” he complains sourly.

“That case is connected to another string of crimes we’ve been investigating. I need to know where you got your information.”

Danny glares at him for a second, actually thinking about telling him, then he remembers how quickly these guys throw people into Arkham.

“Do you not get what anonymous means?”

“What is your source?” He asks, completely ignoring Danny’s concerns.

“What are gonna do? Dangle me over the side of a building to get me to talk like you do with the criminals you guys pick up? Go ahead. See where that gets you,” he shrugs indifferently.

“You’re a runaway.”

Danny’s eyes widen in surprise before narrowing into a warning as he turns to look at the pipsqueak that spoke.

“From your poorly made fake ID and the fact you don’t look close to eighteen, you must be a runaway minor. We could bring you in to the proper authorities if you prove to be… uncooperative.”

Danny sneers in annoyance.

“Seriously?” He turns back to Red Robin. Clearly the older of the two and the one leading this investigation. “This is what I get for trying to help? Blackmail?”

“Robin can be a bit… abrasive. I, on the other hand, can appreciate a different approach.”

Suddenly there’s a couple pieces of paper money in between his fingers. Danny couldn’t see how much it was from this far away, but it didn’t really change how he felt about the whole situation.

“Now bribery? Wow, you guys really got the whole good cop, bad cop thing down, don’t cha?”

“Then what do you want?”

“For you to stop wasting your time,” Danny answers with a snap.

Red Robin pauses.

“Our time,” he repeats calmly.

“Yea. Your time. This is a dead end and you should move on.”

“And why are you a dead end?” Presses Robin.

“Because,” Danny emphasizes with a look over his shoulder, “the guy you’re really looking for, my source as you put it, is dead, okay? So you can’t go ask him questions. I sent in everything that was relevant. Find another lead.”

Red Robin’s expression remains blank as he mentally calculates his next move. Danny hopes he takes his advice and let him go home.

“His name?”

Danny folds his arms over his chest, a pathetic attempt to protect himself. He chews on his lip a minute. To tell him or not to tell him. It’s not really ratting the guy out since he’s, you know, dead. Although there is a large chance Danny’s missing something and it’s all going to lead back to him somehow.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“I never said you did,” the vigilante replies calmly, almost nonchalant.

Danny shifts his weight with nerves. He really wasn’t getting out of this without giving them something, huh?

“Greg,” he grinds out like it’s painful.

Silence for a few moments, then-

“As in Gregory Boothe?”

The victim of this whole conversation? Yes.

Danny’s silence is answer enough and the diverted gaze just solidified their suspicions.

“Gregory Boothe’s body turned up a month ago. Presumably he’d been dead for several weeks before that.”

Red lets that damning information hang in the air like Danny didn’t already know.

“So when did he talk to you? Last week?”

Danny jerks at the off handed joke, actually taking a step back and hitching his shoulders up to his ears. He grimaces at his knee jerk response, but can’t take it back. A glance toward the vigilante shows a calculating stunned expression from what he can see ignoring the mask. He looks away again finding a discarded soda can very interesting.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Demands Robin behind him.

Danny tried to resist the urge to curl even more into himself, but knows he failed without even having to look.

“You’re a medium,” Red Robin states. It’s not even a question.

Danny flinches and shoots the guy a scared glare.

“I am not one of those scam artists,” he hisses firmly.

“No,” Red agrees, “you’re not. You didn’t ask for money or attention.”

Danny stares like it’s his first time seeing him. The lack of aggression or accusations was new and a little disarming. He was genuinely confused as to why the guy wasn’t immediately going to denial or throwing him in Arkham.

“Hell of a city to hide in when you can see ghosts,” Red Robin says in a light tone like he was teasing him. The small tug to his lips just proves it.

Danny’s shoulders practically sag at the playful demeanor. A hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Yea, well… no one was gonna look for me here.”

Which was only half the reason he chose Gotham, but it was still truthful.

“So… Greg?”

“Isn’t here right now.” Danny pauses and snorts at himself. “Please leave a message.”

The vigilante does have a sense of humor because he smirks in response to the joke.

“Is there another way to… make contact? Summoning maybe?”

Danny raises an eyebrow incredulously.

“Summoning is rude,” he says like it’s common sense.

Instead he turns to the nearest reliable ghost in the vicinity.

“Hey, Susan, can you go-“

The vigilantes can’t hear how she interrupts him because she was standing there the whole time and knows exactly what he was going to ask.

“Okay, thanks. Meet at mine.”

The ghost woman nods and flies off to go hunt down dear old Greg and Danny turns to Red Robin. He makes a casual move with his head to say ‘follow me’ and continues walking down the sidewalk past the guy and further into the old, decrepit buildings he’s been squatting in.

They already know he’s a runaway, being homeless shouldn’t come as a shock to them. Even with his two jobs, he can’t afford to rent an apartment. No wonder so many people are in poverty or in the slums.

He ducks into his rundown building, ignoring the rats scurrying away, and hops up the rickety stairs, avoiding the ones that were unstable. It was a nightmare figuring out which steps were faulty. Lots of injuries.

At the top he turns to see Red easily copying his movements up the stairs while Robin balances along the railing like a tight rope. When they reach the top at the same time Danny just stares at them for a moment before shaking his head in exasperation. Darn vigilantes. Why did Danny have to get caught up in this mess?

He turns, walking along the floor closest to the wall before getting to what he’s deemed his room.

It used to be an office from what he can tell. A desk pushed against the far wall and a ripped sofa he’s been using as a bed on the other wall. The floors were the most stable in this room which really won out.

Danny goes to the desk where all his papers are scattered over the surface. An organizational pattern only he understands as he shuffles through the pile he pulls from the cubby above the desk. It holds all the same information he sent into the police, just in its raw form with about twice the amount of useless information. Along with it is a few other ‘cases’ that sounds familiar that he just threw together into a pile. Maybe the genius detectives could decipher what he couldn’t.

“Here,” he says, holding out the stack. Red Robin doesn’t hesitate to take it off his hands.

There’s no chair for the desk anymore so he slides some papers out of the way to hop onto the desk to wait.

“No.”

The vigilantes look at him and he shakes his head and looks over to the side.

“No, Abby. I’m not wasting their time.”

Red Robin goes back to flipping through papers. Most of them were old business papers he had found in the office and just written on the back. Some were receipts or pamphlets or some other random scrap of paper he could get his hands on.

“Because yours was an accident. There’s nothing for them to solve.”

Robin watched him cautiously as if waiting for Danny to snap or suddenly turn violent. Instead he leans back on his hands in a vulnerable position which screamed ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone’.

“There is a lot more information here than what was submitted to the police,” Red Robin comments neutrally, purposefully ignoring Danny’s exasperated sigh and one-sided conversation.

Danny shrugs in defense, “Didn’t think all of it was relevant.”

The vigilante doesn’t respond.

Robin drifts closer as Danny gives a withering glare to the corner. He examines the mess of papers surrounding the teen in the low lighting.

“Are these all files of victims?”

Danny glances over them with a knowledgeable eye.

“Most.” He twists to point at the top left corner of the cubbies. “Those are accidents though… well, what sounds like accidents.”

“There should be more.”

Danny looks at the boy with a tilted head and raises brow.

“Not everyone sticks around,” he explains simply.

Then something draws his attention away across the room. Surprisingly his eyes don’t glaze over like someone with mental illness, instead they sharpen to see something they can’t. It resembled Constantine or Thomas.

“Greg, these guys wanna talk to you.”

What proceeds is a very awkward interaction with Danny as a middle man between victim and vigilante. Despite the need for a translator, Red Robin does in fact get a lead from the conversation.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Danny nods. “Sure, no problem. Just don’t rat me out to the police and I can help with any other case that pops up with a ghost attached.”

“You know we can help with your living situation,” Red Robin offers with a glance around the room.

“What, and put me in foster care? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“There are other options,” Robin chimes in with nonchalance that implies he doesn’t actually care.

“You don’t pass for eighteen, but if you let me make you a new ID we could say you’re emancipated.”

Danny frowns.

“I’d have to be sixteen to be eligible for emancipation.”

“You could be sixteen.”

No, he really couldn’t. Maybe if you squint your eyes and tilt your head, but Danny is fourteen with all the baby fat and innocent face that comes with it. His license now is a clear fake to anyone who sees it, but in this city no one’s gonna question it to his face. They just raise a brow, look at him, then shrug it off and roll with the lie.

“What do you want?” He demands. All this good will and wanting to help him can’t be free.

“We want to help,” Red says too easily.

Danny stares for a second, eyes narrowed as he tries to block out the multiple voices around him.

Insurance. He wants Danny to owe him so he can keep coming back for more information.

“I just told you I would help. Why are you still trying to get leverage?” He demands with irritation.

“We want to help-“

“You want me in your back pocket.”

Red Robin doesn’t give that a response, his lips pressing together to make a hard line.

Instead of pushing, he surprisingly takes a step back and heads towards the door, papers still in hand. Danny doesn’t argue.

Robin ducks out first, blending into the shadows without even a glance over his shoulder. Red Robin pauses in the doorway.

“Don’t try to skip town,” he states like an order. Like if Danny did in fact try, he would be found and brought back.

It didn’t even cross Danny’s mind.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says tiredly, too fed up with the day to defend himself.

Red Robin watches him for a moment before nodding and disappearing out the room.

Danny slumps with a groan, finally sliding off the desk to shuffle to the couch, body flopping face first into the worn cushions.

It’s silent to everyone else but Danny.

“I know.”

…

“I know, Jack, but I don’t trust them. Even if he is your son.”

Danny never noticed the bug planted by Robin on the underside of the desk.

[batsyheere]

"So, handling your archnemesis," Danny starts. The room falls quiet, heads slowly turning to look at the man as he writes the words on the chalkboard. When finished, the characters somehow both messy and neat at once, Danny places the chalk back down and claps his hands.

"I typically call them fruitloops. Often they're in a better position than you are- older, richer, more powerful. They may have some sort of status that protects them when facing the public."

Tim wondered where Dick was right now, and if he was laughing. His brain was lagging like a computer as he tried to process what Danny was saying, and how seriously a few of his fellow teen vigilantes were taking this.

"Some of their more common tactics are-" the chalk was picked back up, and Danny writes as he speaks.

"Manipulation, isolation, conditioning, and empathy."

MICE.

Tim stares at the board, and quietly slips put his phone.

-What have I done to deserve this.

Enjoy your lessons Tim-

His head thumps against the desk. Conner leans over, gives him a pat on the shoulder but returns to taking notes as Danny goes on to explain the conditioning tactic.

[sentient-stove]

“Do you remember when I sold my soul a few years back?”

The tapping at the keyboard did not still. “Yes of cour— Tim, you sold your soul?”

“Oh my god, you forgot.” He dramatically threw a hand against his chest, collapsing sideways out of the chair to land on the cave floor. “I’m wounded. In my cold, soulless heart, shot straight through it. You forgot I sold my soul. Dick, how could you?”

“It’s been a hectic few years-“

“It’s my soul Richard Greyson. Isn’t that important? I sold my soul to the Ghost King and now it’s apparently changed hands.”

“The Ghost King sold your already sold soul?!?”

Tim sat back up, using the BatDesk to pull himself to his feet. “Nah, apparently the og king got bested in combat and the new king now owns it. He sent me a letter. So we could meet. And potentially discuss me repossessing my soul. Anyway, are you free Thursday cause that’s when he’s picking me up and he said I could bring a friend. Cissie already said no, so you’re the next on my list.”

Dick had long since abandoned whatever report he’d been working on and was staring at Tim with what could only be described as ‘major concern.’ “Can we please backtrack to the fact you sold your soul to a Cthulhu-like entity?”

“No.”

…

Meme under the cut

[skydrag0n]

Y’all I am in over my head, I tried to work out the Batman timeline for a fic… this is hell. Trying to figure out what year it was for important events trying to figure out everyone’s ages… please kill me

I think I’m mostly gonna wing it on the timeline honestly 🫠

ALSO WHY IS WRITING SO HARD RAHFDDGFYHJFHVSFKH

Thank you for coming to my very short rant

[giotanner]

Nightwing and Tim Drake, Discowing and the loss of Jason Todd (link to the entire tiktok here)

Ko-fi

[sleep-deprived-tim]

The real reason I died was to flex on Jason. I get to become a sick ass ghost. Suck it jason

[msfcatlover]

I need everyone to know that echo!Tim is mostly very annoyed all the time about having friends/family. Because, see, if they care about Tim, then they want to see Tim. And if they’re close enough to be friends then they’re close enough to know Tim, which means it’s actually Tim they want to see (rather than a preconceived notion of Tim or a mask Tim sometimes puts on.)

And that particular combination of knowing Tim himself & genuinely wanting to have him around completely negates his stealth-powers. He is wanted. He is loved. He is perceived.

He fucking hates it.

(Yes, this includes before revealing his identity to any of his super-friends. Robin put his feet in their lap, stole popcorn on movie night, choked trying to win a bet about how many marshmallows he could fit in his mouth, bragged about every little thing, and walked into multiple walls & doors because he wasn’t paying attention in front of them. They know Tim, even if they didn’t know his name yet.)