#because she got upset at Clark when she found out he was Superman

[frankbeetle]

This is something more of a comic twt joke, but I’ll put explanation in tags. Carol Ferris the love of my life the world isn’t ready for you

If you hate either of these characters go away I don’t like you

[sanguineterrain]

Hey I saw you're still taking requests... what about a batman x reader where the justice league meets his wife (the reader) by accident? And maybe they're shocked because he's so secretive and she's really sweet and just the total opposite of him. Feel free to ignore if this doesn't sound interesting to you. I love your writing 💗

Hey! I love this prompt, thanks for sending it in :) I made the reader gender neutral, I hope that's okay!

Bruce Wayne x spouse!gn!reader. No warnings, just Bruce being a little shit (and a sweet hubby).

****

You press your palm to the reader at the entrance of the Cave and jog down the stairs, talking all the way.

"Honey, Alfred and I are going to..."

Six superhero faces stare back at you. Bruce is in the cowl, expression hard to parse. Your brows rise.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't know B had company. I'll leave you to it," you say, beginning to back up the stairs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," says Green Lantern. You can't tell through the mask lenses, but you think he might be zeroed in on the ring on your left hand. "Uh, Spooky? Something you wanna tell us?"

You freeze on the steps. Bruce looks at you, then crosses the Cave in a few long strides. He stops next to you.

Sorry, you mouth at him. He shakes his head and reaches out to squeeze your hand.

"Hold the fucking phone," Green Arrow begins. "You're his—"

"Partner," Wonder Woman says instantly. She sounds pensive. "I have never seen you look at anyone like that, Bruce."

Bruce doesn't say anything, not that you expect him to. You feel him tense.

He'd been content to keep his family as private as possible, and you hadn't minded being kept separate. You know it's out of extreme protectiveness and the fact that you're the only one of the Wayne family who doesn't put a suit on and fight crime.

There's a moment of silence as the League studies you, then Bruce. You smile slowly and wave.

"Hi, Justice League. Nice to meet you all."

"Hello," says the Martian Manhunter, who's probably known about you since you entered Wayne Manor.

"You got married without telling us?" Superman sounds hurt.

Bruce heaves a sigh.

"We got married during the League's infancy. Please spare me the theatrics. Of course I didn't tell you."

"We revealed our identities two years ago!" Superman argues. "You didn't want to mention you have a spouse?"

Superman nods at you then. "Uh, of course, it's still very nice to meet you."

You smile. "It's nice to meet you too, Superman."

"Clark," he corrects hastily. Then he turns to Bruce again, upset flaring. "Bruce—"

"You're upset over nothing," Bruce says. "We weren't close when I got married, and I never found it a pertinent detail."

You roll your eyes.

"B," you say, nudging his shoulder. "C'mon. Try to be a little gentler about this, hm?"

Bruce looks at you. You smile at him and squeeze his wrist encouragingly. He eventually turns back to the League.

"Very well, you're right. Clark, that was harsh of me. My apologies."

The League startles.

"Whoa. Rewind. Hold up. Did Spooky just apologize?" Green Lantern asks. "Did I just get zeta'd?"

Bruce sighs. You stifle a laugh and kiss his bicep. His hand slips to your back.

"Aw, you guys are cute," Flash says jovially. "Congrats, B! Even if it's been almost six years."

Bruce nods. "Thank you, Allen."

"It is incredible how the better half can transform the other," says Wonder Woman, and you preen a little at the compliment.

Clark looks flabbergasted. It takes him a second to speak again.

"Um. That's... okay, Bruce. I forgive you. I suppose you did it out of protection, right?"

"I'm just a boring ol' civilian," you say, nodding. "No powers or years of Krav Maga training here. B worries."

"You're not boring," Bruce says fiercely, quiet enough for only you to hear... and Clark, who has superhearing, and who softens at the statement.

"This is so weird," Green Lantern says, and Bruce glares at him.

"I mean, it's sweet!" he hastily adds. "Uh, you guys are very sweet together, like Bar said. I just feel like I've been mind controlled or something."

"If it was mind control, you wouldn't still be talking," Bruce says flatly.

"Okay, alright, point taken. Shutting up. It's very nice to meet you, though," Green Lantern says to you.

"You as well," you say warmly. "All of you. I want to thank you for looking out for him all these years and bringing him home safe."

Wonder Woman smiles at you. "It is a great honor to fight alongside him. And we are happy he has someone to come home to."

"Seconded," Clark says. "You deserve someone special, B. And I can tell they're just that."

Your face feels warm under all the praise. Bruce is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks again, there's a slight tremor in his voice.

"Thank you. I—they are the best thing to ever happen to me."

You have to kiss Bruce for that, cowl be damned. He meets you gently, and you keep it short but full of love. Flash aww's.

"Well," you say, laughing bashfully. "I suppose I'll let you all get back to work. Nice to meet you. Goodbye. Bruce, I'm going out with Alfred."

Bruce nods. "Call me when you get home."

"'Course, sweetheart. I always do."

You head up the stairs. Flash starts to speak.

"Y'know, I told you all when I got married," he says. "You guys were the first people I told! We didn't even know Clark's identity then. I think you could've loosened the reins, Bruce."

"Yeah, no. You telling a bunch of superhero co-workers is infinitely stranger than Bruce never telling us, Bar."

[kheta]

2 for 1 Genres

Thriller-Mystery: Young Justice is missing. They've been missing for two months and no one noticed. The League is devastated and panicked as multiple members try and look for their proteges and family members. The BatFam are enraged and feel stupid to have not noticed Tim was missing sooner, angry that they didn't check in sooner. The Arrows are walking a tightrope, not knowing how much they can do to help without compromising Cissie's strong boundaries, but also unwilling to step-back from rescuing one of their own, even if she's been distant for years at this stage. The Flashes are resigned to Bart disappearing, though the rest of yj being missing is definitely heightening their anxiety. Superman is quietly guilty for not noticing Kon's absence as abnormal, while Jon is giving his dad the silent treatment because he knew something was up and is mad that Clark didn't believe him and mad that he didn't look into it anyway. Wonder Woman is upset that she hadn't realised Cassie had vanished, but has quiet faith that the team will manage to survive until the League manages to find them. It's a desperate push against the clock as the mentors juggle their everyday disasters with their efforts to look for the team, especially because all of these mentors are also maybe 100% going to butt heads as they play the blame game, struggling to reconcile their guilt when the mission is a lot more personal, with no clear cut villain to blame. Comedic-Hi-jinks: Meanwhile, the YJ crew have all been kidnapped. Kidnapped by a bored and lonely Bart Allen, who was sick of all the failed reunion plans and jealous of the fact that literally everyone got to spend time with each other except him. (no, going to see them one on one doesn't count guys! their a team, a family, they deserve more than just occasional face-times and drop-ins) Honestly the little pocket dimension they ended up in was surprisingly neat and child-friendly, so Anita's not too mad at being kidnapped. There's even some small fry's she gets to deal with and a hand picked group of perfectly available baby-sitters who she trusts with her life, all on hand, unable to say no when she leaves her not-parents in their care. Cissie's a little worried because she definitely has some work things to look after, but this mini vacays actually been a good time to unwind, even if she was a bit mad that Bart gave her no time to prep and Tim gave her absolutely no heads up. And despite his arguments, she knows Tim had expected this to happen. Bart was way too put together after getting Tim, no bruises, no scolding and no glitter bombs in sight. Kon, Tim and Cassie meanwhile are just vibing, brains off as they meander through this little pocket dimension. Nothing was gonna stop Bart from doing this and at least he's relented to a three day adventure instead of the week long one he had initially planned. Greta is a little worried, because things are going surprisingly well on this little excursion and that's way too weird, but she loves being with her friends again, so she's really hoping the worry is unwarranted. Bart feels like he's forgotten something, but for the life of him he can't think of what he may have forgotten. He has his friends, he found the perfect, most harmless pocket dimension and he even remembered to set the YJ code to show they had gone out on a mission. (Bart definitely forgot to do the time math. He was going to do it, honest! He just got a bit too excited. And maybe a bit too annoyed at Cissie hogging Greta and Cassie's time. But only very slightly annoyed.)

[mamawasatesttube]

hi im lost in the kon & clark + kon & the kents sauce today.

thinkin about how clark takes him to live with ma and pa shortly after "our worlds at war" - after kon has lost guardian, and now mickey and dubbilex and everyone he knew at cadmus has vanished and left him on his own. after he's been used and discarded by knockout, tana, and rex leech. he's not even two years old and there is a whole list of adults who he relied on and who he's already lost because, as he believes, of his own inability to be what they needed him to be. he wasn't savvy enough to realize rex was using him for money, he wasn't heroic enough to save knockout from herself, he wasn't mature enough for tana to love him, he wasn't good enough of a superhero to prevent guardian from being killed in the leadup to everything with apokolips...

anyway, what i'm getting at is that he's used to nearly all of his relationships with adults having a time limit, and to being left alone to fend for himself when that time limit runs out. so, uh, the first time he has any sort of argument with clark, or clark expresses any frustration with him...

which, imo, is extremely possible because, like. kon's an impulsive kid who doesn't always listen to others or ask for help when he needs it (partly because he's so used to fending for himself!) and clark definitely has a protective streak, and i think it'd frustrate clark that kon didn't even tell him he had nowhere to go after cadmus went underground. like he gets that kon's got issues but also Please For The Love Of God. People Who Love You Want To Help You But You Have To Tell Them You Need Help. he wants to help and protect kon but kon doesn't even realize the things he's gone through are fucked up and that he shouldn't have had to deal with them, let alone on his own. suggesting that he should lean on others would make him bristle. and he definitely doesn't want to be a bother or a burden on superman.

so it's a point of contention but like, the love is there. it's a point of contention BECAUSE the love is there.

anyway i'm just thinking of the first time clark tries to talk to kon about opening up and asking for help and telling him or ma or pa or lois when something is up, and kon getting mad at him because he can handle himself and he's not incompetent, and clark being like that's not what i'm trying to say at all, i'm plenty competent and i lean on people when i need to and so should you. but kon's a traumatized and headstrong teenager who doesn't want to hear it, even (especially) from his idol, and clark gets a little frustrated, and then kon ??? stops arguing and just gets really disproportionately upset out of the blue??? and shuts down and then runs off??? and clark doesn't understand what happened exactly but clearly SOMETHING is wrong. figures he'll give kon some space and talk to him again in the evening when he's had a chance to cool off.

instead not even an hour later martha kent hollers for clark to get over to kansas and explain his side of things because she KNOWS the boy she and jonathan raised would Never have told kon he's sick of cleaning up his messes and wants him out of his parents' house and might even be planning to take his name back from him. (clark, hearing this: HE THINKS I WHAT???????? D: D: D:)

(ma sent pa to check on kon when he didn't come down for dinner and pa found him sniffling and stuffing clothes into a suitcase. he said clark hadn't told him to get out yet but it was only a matter of time. they are gonna have a nice long family heart-to-heart and at the end of it pa is going to have to talk ma down from hunting down rex leech with a shotgun.)

anyway kon gets a Really good family group hug that he TOTALLY doesn't cry about (he's cool as a cucumber about it!! really!!) and gets whacked across the head with a boatload of affirmations and reassurances that even if any of them ever argue, his place here and his name and status as part of the family are never going to be in question. (ma wants the shotgun again when he seems genuinely surprised by this.) it might even be the origin of them coming up with "conner kent". a second name just for him, as part of clark's family on earth too.

i am just. so not immune to stories about a little guy who's not used to having a family Getting A Family you know?????

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Special Merchandise | Bruce Wayne/Batman x Magician!Reader ft. Batfamily (Fluff)

Synopsis: Based off of the Wayne Family Adventures Ep. 6: Favoritism. Bruce gets a little upset when everyone in the family has every JLA merch but for Batman. Vivian makes it up to him by getting something special just for Bruce.

“Welcome home!” Bruce greeted Vivian and Dick as they entered the room with a huge box the latter was carrying, while Vivian carried their new pet-puppy: Ace. Ever since they got Ace, Vivian has been babying the puppy and would beg Bruce to let him sleep in bed with them.

“Hello, love,” Vivian kissed his cheek in greeting and then let Ace lick Bruce’s cheek. “How’s the day off?”

“Fine, uneventful, and good now that you’re back,” he pulled Vivian to his lap. “What’s in the box?”

Dick looked down at the box and then to the couple, “Viv and I just saw this huge sale in this store on our way home, and got everyone some merch from their favorite heroes. She even got a Bat cowl,” he pulled out the little plastic cowl and placed it on the dog’s head. “I’m just gonna give this out to everyone.”

“Go ahead, kiddo!” Vivian called out.

As Dick turned around to head up the stairs, Bruce noticed that he was wearing a Superman hoodie as it had the large “S” at the back. “Figures,” Bruce chuckled. “Dick has always been a fan of Superman.”

Vivian got up from his lap, disappointing him. “Yeah, remember the time when Clark went over to interview me for a column on the Plant and Dick came down with his Superman merch?”

“Yeah, he asked for an autograph then,” Bruce took Ace and let the puppy run around the house, but the pup stayed by their side. Rather, Vivian’s side and just watched her intensely.  Seriously, sometimes he wondered if Vivian placed a spell on Ace just so he could stay at her side, but knowing his wife values individuality and is highly against mind manipulation, he knew their pet just imprinted on her. 

How wouldn’t it? Vivian babied Ace so much that it made Damian slightly jealous. Just slightly. He swears he would see Jason glaring at the puppy whenever Vivian has it on his favorite spot on the couch.

The kiss on his cheek pulled Bruce’s gaze from Dick’s disappearing figure and he asked, “What?” knowing it was her way to get his attention.

“Just a reminder that Dick still looks up to you in certain things,” she grinned mischievously.

Bruce had a deadpan look. “Do you really think I’m bothered by Dick wearing a Superman hoodie?” 

“I think it’s the idea that he said got everyone’s favorite hero merch and he’s wearing the big ‘S’ and not the big Bat.”

“Vivian, we both know Nightwing was inspired by Superman.”

“Yeah, and I know that you’re so proud of him for being the ideal superhero – which is a mix of Superman’s character and Batman’s… everything. I just want to remind you that we still love the Big Bad Bat.”

Bruce smiled but then, “What do you mean we?”

Vivian grinned guiltily and took out a CD from her bag. It was a CD of Zatanna’s first ever show along with a Zatanna t-shirt. Publicly, she’s not known as a member but there were merchandise of Zatanna in the shop too.

“I am not sorry, but she’s practically the only magic user in the League that’s not a kid shouting ‘Shazam’ to get powers. And, we’re practically friends, you know. And let’s not forget about that time the three of us…”

“Let’s not mention that out here. But I guess you’re right.”

“Are you good? No hard feelings?””

“Viv, I’m a grown man. It’s fine!” Bruce laughed.

“Good. I just want to make sure,” she kissed him on the lips and left, bringing Ace with her. At least Ace was wearing a Batman cowl.

~*~

The next day, Bruce found Jason walking down the Batcave wearing a pair of Wonder Woman sweatpants. He remembered Vivian’s teasing words earlier and just let it go. But can’t when Jason literally hung out longer in the gym at the cave with the blue and gold Wonder Woman sweatpants.

He must have been staring for a while now because Jason snapped at him, “What did I do now?!”

“Nothing,” Bruce said and walked away. 

~*~

At dinner, Vivian noticed how her husband was looking at Damian’s green hoodie. Nothing new about Damian wearing a green hoodie since he always does, but this time… the hoodie was more than just his usual. It was a Green Lantern hoodie.

“Glare any more and you’re putting a hole in your son’s head, Bruce,” Vivian teased him as she ate her dinner with a teasing grin.

Damian, who had noticed his father’s stare, looked at him and asked, “What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about your training later. I might increase your levels since you mentioned the last time it was child’s play,” Bruce said.

“Please,” Damian scoffed. “Your entire training course is child's play. The course Mother had was far better.”

Vivian paused in her chewing and turned to her husband. Actually everyone was watching Bruce – Cassandra, Duke,  Tim, and Alfred – and waited for what he was going to say. While the latter were curious, Vivian was more concerned on how this blow would go. 

Damian already got him when the boy wore a Green Lantern hoodie, now he was comparing his father’s training course with his mother’s which was far better.

“I’ll see what I can do with the training course,” Bruce muttered.

They resumed their meal in silence, that was until Vivian started humming the tune of Jealousy, jealousy, which had Bruce turn to her with a narrowed look in his eye. Vivian smirked and said, teasingly, “What? One of my students was playing it in the courtyard and it stuck – blame last song syndrome.”

“Same,” Cassandra said, smiling. “Play songs later?”

“Sure thing, honey,” Vivian said. “We could even blast it in the Batcave during your training.”

Bruce frowned at her with that.

“Thanks, Mom.”

~*~

Later that night, during training, Jealousy, jealousy played in the speaker as background music, just as Cass requested earlier. To make sure Bruce doesn’t pop a vein, Vivian brought her work to the cave to keep watch. And she was right to do so because when she got there she saw Duke and Barbara there. The latter is wearing some Flash red high-cut sneakers, and Barbara wearing a Black Canary shirt.

“Everything alright?” Duke asked Bruce when they noticed Bruce’s glare.

“Fine, it’s all fine, Duke,” said Bruce.

To tease him more, Vivian increased the volume and walked towards Barbara to show her something on her computer – some IT help – and she made sure to show that she was wearing a pair of Doctor Fate jumpers. When she glanced at her husband’s way, she saw him marching away and upping Damian’s level as the boy called out: “CHILD’S PLAY!”

Vivian chuckled and returned to whatever Barbara was teaching her. She really did need some IT help.

~*~

It was Stephanie’s Green Arrow slurpee cup that pushed the last button, especially when she said Green Arrow was the only JLA Member that doesn’t have powers. And when Bruce pointed out that that was basically the same with Batman, she said, “well, he’s blond. And I’m blond.”

Vivian won’t lie, she put up Stephanie on that day just to mess with her husband and prove that Dick and everyone else wearing superhero merchandise but Batman’s got to him. 

Later that day, Vivian got a call from Superman. Luckily she was in the faculty office with nothing much to do – the times she’s been staying up just to see Bruce’s reaction with everyone’s superhero merchandise pulled off because she finished all the papers she needed to grade and the lecture notes for the next class. 

“Hi Clark!” Vivian answered while eating a chocolate bar that her mentor was giving out that day. “What are you calling at this time?”

“Hi, Viv. Just wanna ask: did something happen with Bruce?”

“Why? How is he?” Vivian sat up, quite concerned if this was a life threatening thing.

“Nothing’s wrong with him… physically. But he is in a bad mood during our meeting. I just wanna know if something happened in Gotham.”

Vivian’s eyes landed on her Zatanna CD that she kept on her desk and chuckled, “Don’t worry, Clark. Nothing happened.  Listen, I’ll talk to him when I get home. Okay?”

“Okay, thanks Vivian. I only called because he was giving Oliver a really bad look and it kind of freaked everyone out. Also, he left the Tower earlier. So, he’s probably at work.”

Vivian laughed and started packing her things. “Alright, thanks for telling me. Don’t worry, Clark. I’ll talk to him and by tomorrow, he’ll be back to his… usual kind of brooding.”

“Thanks, Vivian.”

The call ended and Vivian was ready to go. Her early pack up had some of her colleagues wonder if she had some billionaire meetup. Kirk would usually ask but recently he just doesn’t, but Catherine did.

“Heading off, Via?” 

“Yeah. I just need to do something,” Vivian said. “I don’t even have class in the afternoon today because of the university-wide event.”

“Is it a mom-things, Vivian-things or billionaire-thing?” Kirk asked, jokingly. It has been a joke in the department whenever Vivian leaves in the middle of the day (as long as she’s finished with everything) means she’s either doing normal Vivian things or as the billionaire-wife Vivian – which are galas, meetings, and press – or Mom-Vivian things – which are PTAs, school events, or one of the kids getting called to the headmaster’s office. 

“Wife-things,” she told them.

“Oh,” Kirk and Catherine said, but different. The latter had a disappointed tone while the latter was giddy.

“Have fun!” Catherine waved goodbye.

“I will!” Vivian said and left.

~*~

During his and Vivian’s private wedding, which was between close family and friends, and Alfred getting ordained online to marry them in the Batcave, Bruce said in his vows that he promises to take at least a night off of patrol to spend time with his wife. The mention of compromises for work and personal life had the couple and some of their guests laugh, and though it was a small gesture it was a huge step for Bruce as the man is a workaholic. 

At first it was hard with only him patrolling Gotham and with Robins being too young to go on alone – Dick was the only Robin he let patrol alone for a long time. But now with Batwoman and the boys growing up (and Damian showing more responsibility), he was able to take a night off and relax with Vivian. 

That night was one of the nights when he did let the Robins patrol the city and he was behind the Batcomputer to keep watch. But he’ll head up to the manor once Vivian gets home. It was getting a little late now and usually Vivian would be home hours ago, and yet still no word but for that message saying she just needed to run an errand.

He tried calling her to see if she’s going to join them for dinner, and she said that she’s twenty minutes away. Which was a yes. Alfred decided to make a little feast since there were not many crimes that night nor do they have any pending cases to be solved – or maybe it’s just too early to call it a quiet night in Gotham. 

The sound of Vivian’s favorite heels pulled Bruce’s attention from his welding work and had him finish his project for the night. 

“I was starting to worry,” Bruce greeted her. His back still turned to her as he put away his tools and grabbed a towel to wipe his sweat. He’s been working there since Red Robin said that he can sit back and relax since the most they were doing tonight was just making sure Harley Quinn doesn’t get into too much trouble.

“I had to do a couple of errands,” Vivian answered. “How are the boys?”

Bruce turned to her but found the cave empty. He looked around and noticed the wavy red hair in the chair of the Batcomputer. “The boys are fine. It’s a quiet night.”

Weird, she normally greets him with a kiss or an embrace, not caring if he was sweaty as long as she wasn’t wearing her work clothes or some expensive outfit for events. She would always say how she finds a man who can do heavy work very attractive. One of the reasons why Bruce tends to work in body fit clothing just to tease her or workout shirtless, just to tease her. Just one of his reasons.

Tonight, she went straight to the computer with no acts of affection. 

“And your meeting with the League?” 

Bruce sighed and walked towards the computer. “Clark called you, didn’t he? What did he say? Is that why you’re giving me the cold shoulder?”

When she only hummed as an answer, Bruce turned the chair so she faced him but found himself completely speechless with what he was seeing right now.

“Yeah, Clark told me about what happened in the Tower,” Vivian crossed her arms, which emphasized her breasts that were barely being covered by her black bra that had the Batman’s symbol on the left side,, a pair of laced g-strings in the shade of black, on her waist was a fashionable yellow belt that had the Bat-symbol on the buckle, and while she wore one of his coats that would engulf her with how big it was, Vivian fashioned it to show more of her skin than less. She probably used it to get around the Manor and not run into Alfred in this seductive getup.

“Hi Bruce,” she smiled  innocently at him. “There was a sale at my favorite lingerie shop for some of their themed products, and I thought I’d drop by.”

“So this was the errand,” he smirked.

“Well, it’s a sale — you can’t expect me not to go, right? Do you know how much a bra costs?”

“I’m pretty sure we can afford it.”

“Old habits,” she shrugged.

“And it just so happens, this is the one you chose from the many items on sale?” He ran his finger across the fabric. It was thin — which meant it wasn’t from her favorite lingerie shop — and he could feel her nipples with the lack of padding. 

“Do you like it?” Vivian smirked as she watched him kneel down before her and ran his hand across her belly and up, under her bra where he squeezed her breast lightly, getting a moan from her.

“Very much,” he kissed her hip. “Too bad it’s getting ripped off,” his free hand caressed her thigh and then pressed against her covered sex. “And these too,” he kissed her just close to her g-string. “I didn’t know they also have Bat-themed underwear there,” he noted as he saw the prints of the lace.

Vivian let out a breath of pleasure and sat up. She took his hand from her breast and held it against her best. “Are you happy now, Mr. Wayne?”

“More than happy,” Bruce chuckled. 

She then leaned down and whispered to his ear. “We both know that my Batman merchandise isn’t really appropriate for the family to see.”

Bruce chuckled. “Nor does it last long.”

“We got two options, Batman. We can head upstairs and lock our bedroom or lock the cave and enjoy this while surrounded by actual Batman memorabilia.”

Bruce pushed the chair close to the computer and reached for a button. It was the comms. “Alfred,” he began. “I’ll be testing the cave’s security lock down in case of a home invasion. The boys won’t be able to contact me from here for a while.”

“Very well, Master Bruce. I shall inform them to head directly to the manor then,” said Alfred. “And what about Mistress Vivian?”

“She’ll keep me company while I fix some of its loose ends,” Bruce covered her mouth as he started kissing her breast.

“Understood. I shall see you when the lockdown is complete. See you in an hour, Master Bruce. Unless you override the timer.”

The call ended, and Bruce said to him and Vivian, “I don’t think an hour would be enough.” He kissed her lips while pressing the lockdown protocol for the test.

“Is that so?” Vivian laughed. “Do you plan on fucking me on the Dinosaur too?”

Bruce pulled her off the chair and carried her in his arms, with her legs wrapped around him. “I want to take you on every surface of this cave, Mrs. Wayne.”

[cdelphiki]

A Rock in a Weary Place excerpt

I haven't done a WIP Wednesday in forever. It's almost Wednesday so here we go. A Rock in a Weary Place is part two of my Clark-adopts-Billy AU and I am so excited about it. I've finally gotten some good work done on it, but since it's a long one-shot (I don't actually know how long, but I wouldn't be shocked if it exceeds 10k) it'll be a while before its done. So here's an excerpt!!!! Of course any and all of this can change between now and posting the final.

-

Clark felt… lost.

For as long as he’d been planning and scheming on how to get Billy Batson off the streets, he hadn’t fully realized what taking a kid into his home would fully entail.

Because, for all the talk about how he’d be more like a roommate to Billy… he also realized that he couldn’t be just a roommate.

He was the adult. He had to be— the adult. And Billy was the kid. Clark was providing for Billy, and that was that.

Which meant, Clark had to cook food.

A lot.

He’d never really cooked before, when it was just him. He ordered food, usually. Or just ate something microwavable. Ma would be upset, if she knew that.

But she didn’t know, so she couldn’t be upset.

If she found out he fed Billy, a “growing boy,” primarily greasy take out and cheap microwave dinners… Well Clark wasn’t sure he’d find a place on Earth safe from her wrath. And since he was Martha Kent’s son, he did know how to cook.

So that’s what he did.

A lot now.

Breakfast and dinner every day, and lunch on the weekends too. Although there had only been one weekend with Billy, so far. Five days in total.

How did five short days feel like an eternity?

“Smallville,” Lois nearly sang, “Yoohoo, hello? Is anyone home?”

Clark looked up from his laptop screen and smiled sheepishly at Lois, where she was leaning over his desk almost between him and his computer. He’d been zoning out a lot recently. “Sorry Lois,” he said, “what did you say?”

“What is up with you,” she exasperated, sitting back down into her chair, across their back-to-back desks from him, “you’re so…. distracted lately!”

“Oh nothing,” Clark said, as he leaned back in his chair, trying his best to give her his undivided attention, “just a lot on my mind.”

“Such as…” she prodded, leaning forward further into his personal space. When Clark didn’t reply other than to offer another sheepish smile, she let out an exasperated sigh and said, “Okay fine, I’ve got a new story for us. You won’t believe it, but there’s competition for Superman.”

“What?” Clark asked.

Lois grinned.“You know that guy from Fawcett? Captain Marvel? He’s been spotted in Metropolis this week.”

Clark resisted a laugh. He had known that, of course. “Really?” he asked anyway.

“Yes, and this morning, you’ll never believe it,” Lois said, as she went ahead and fully sat up on his desk, her arms moving all over the place as she spoke, “I was walking from the garage when this kid walked right out into the road without looking, and Captain Marvel swooped in and grabbed him before he got hit by a car. It was incredible! And I got to see Captain Marvel close up.”

“Did you now?” Clark asked with a grin.

“Yes, and let me tell you, he’s handsome. Superman has some real competition there.”

Clark… wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Billy was just a child. A ten-year-old boy. But Clark couldn’t tell Lois that. How would Clark even know that?

He just hoped he never had to have that conversation with Billy, either. Adults shouldn’t be looking at him as if he were an adult.

But.

That was a concern, wasn’t it? Billy had said so himself. Sometimes he wasn’t a kid. Half the time, Billy was an adult. In form, at least.

They definitely would have to have a conversation, wouldn’t they?

Clark… Clark had no idea how to go about that.

“We should do some scouting this evening. Listen to the police scanner and see if we can catch Captain Marvel, just like we used to do with Superman, remember?”

He nodded absently. That had always been… interesting. Having to come up with excuse after excuse to slip away for a moment, all while Lois was trying her best to see Superman.

No matter how fun that had been, he couldn’t do that again. Because. He had to go home and feed Billy.

Also, Billy probably wouldn’t go out and about that time, anyway. He usually did his work during the daylight, and stayed in at night. Clark hadn’t seen him out at night much at all, not even before he came to live in Metropolis.

“Smallville,” Lois snapped, “Clark. Tonight. Scouting. What do you say?”

Clark looked back at her and tried to look regretful as he said, “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“Can’t?” she exclaimed, scowling hard, “Why not?”

“I have plans,” he said simply.

Because he did. Feed the kid.

“Plans with who,” she demanded, “You haven’t been available all week!”

He spluttered and held his two hands up in surrender. “It’s not like that. I’m just busy. Besides, has Captain Marvel been seen after dark much anyway?”

Lois narrowed her eyes, but then sat back as she clearly thought it over, then muttered, “Hm. I wonder if he gets his strength from the sun or something.”

“Hey, maybe,” he said, as he pushed his chair back and stood up. He shut his laptop and slipped it into his bag before he grabbed his coat and said, “I’ve got to get going, but I’ll see you tomorrow. We can talk more about this new hero tomorrow.”

He felt mildly bad he’d blown her off three times already. He’d only had Billy for five days, and three of those days he’s had to blow Lois off.

They used to spend almost all day together, weekends to. Clark already missed that…

“Yeah, yeah,” Lois said, as she slid off his desk and returned to hers, “go do whatever. Tomorrow we’re scouting for Captain Marvel, Kent, don’t forget it.”

[batfsm]

birds fly in every direction by distracted_dragon Thoughts, Part 2.4

Give up Tim, you know you secretly adore Dick's hugs as much as he loves giving them out.

I love the gifts. Alfred is cooler than Batman. Even Bruce would agree. Tim's are so thoughtful. I love them all. I see Dick got a crop top instead. It made me laugh.

^^ Bruce’s brow wrinkles, and why can’t Tim figure out the right thing to say? He didn’t ask for Bruce to spend any energy on fetching things for him just because-- because he cried a little bit like a baby. So why does Bruce look vaguely upset?^^

Because you're his kid Tim and he's supposed to worry about you. Family is supposed to worry and help and love one another. Not be emotionally abusive and draining to each other.

Dick is giving Bruce a whole outfit with his face on it isn't he? Oh, that means Dick will get the shorts! (I am not Jewish so I don't realize they get gifts every night.)

^^ “Hmmm.” Tim files the information away for future reference. Something feels fishy, but he can’t quite tell what.^^

You'll figure it out Tim.

^^ The blue eyes, the familiar voice. Strong arms under him, carrying him away from Two-Face’s men. Hadn’t Bruce said that Clark works for the Daily Planet? That means that he’s based in Metropolis, which is exactly where--

“Superman?” Tim breathes, eyes wide as he stares up at Clark before he claps a hand over his mouth, mortified. “Sorry, I--”^^

This made me laugh. Tim is such a good detective here. Especially when he gets Diana correct right after Clark.

^^ Faster than Tim can blink, Clark is five feet away from him and then he’s hovering in midair as he catches Dick. He moves with the impact, flying a few feet sideways to presumably prevent Dick from experiencing the effects of landing directly on the man of steel.

“This is why I have gray hairs,” Bruce sighs even as Dick laughs and Tim watches in a combination of fascination and horror.

Clark sets Dick gently down on the floor before wrapping him in a big hug. “It’s good to see you, kiddo. How have you been?”

Dick beams. “I’m good,” he replies as Jason pops up at the top of the stairs.

“Aunt Diana, do me next!” Jason shouts before throwing himself over the side of the stairs. A puff of dog hair trails in Diana’s wake as she shoots into the air and catches Jason bridal style. Laughing, he throws one arm around her neck before she sets him down on the ground.^^

These two...of course they did that. Of course they did.

Yes! I'm so happy you're doing something new Tim! Good for you! Asking Clark to drop you instead of doing the bannister...I'm so proud! The questions afterwards made me grin even more. You are adorable and have your aunt and uncle wrapped around your finger like the rest of your family.

I love the video and Dick's answer is so him. The whole scene is great.

I don't know why but I'm so glad Dick asked instead of just taking the wine. He wouldn't do that but I'm so glad he still asked.

^^ “We’re reviewing ground rules first,” he states.

“Okay.”

“One,” Bruce says, “No climbing up things for at least a few hours. I already have enough gray hair, we don’t need to add more.”

Dick looks like he wants to protest, but he wisely stays silent.

“Two, don’t chug it. This is nice wine. And three, please make a reasonable attempt to act like the only alcohol you’ve ever drank has been the drinks that I’ve given you.”^^

I adore the ground rules. So Dick has drank away from the house...I figured.

The gifts Diana gave the boys had me cackling. You can never have to many knives. I love the wine Bruce got from her. Then Bruce getting reminded that the kids are Alfred's also, so good.

Lightsabers are awesome! If I could afford one, I buy myself it. (There are cheap ones but the really good made ones cost a pretty penny I found.) Now is Ma Kent making them sweaters? Or blankets? I'm hoping blankets. You can never have to many of them either.

I love the dancing part. It's so sweet. Then Bruce telling Tim he's adored by his aunt and uncle is pure love. I just love how it's implied, through Bruce's talks with Tim, that Bruce talks to all the members of the household almost nightly. I bet you he calls Dick or Dick calls him every day/night. Wait, I know it happens.

Chapter 17)

The summary has me worried for Tim but I love the opening of the chapter.

^^ Seconds later, a bleary-eyed Bruce walks in. He glances between the coffee and the rest of the kitchen’s occupants. “Mine?” he grunts, pointing to the coffee.

“Yes, that’s yours,” Alfred replies. “My, we’ve been graced with a single syllable. How blessed we are on this fair morning.”

“Good morning,” Bruce grates out, taking a swig of his coffee.

Pleased, Alfred nods. “I am well,” he says even though Bruce didn’t ask. “Breakfast will be ready shortly.”^^

Me. LoL. Though I barely drink coffee in the mornings, or when I wake up since I'm overnight, anymore even though I like it. I wake up after like a half hour. I do drink energy drinks. Just one usually, I'm trying to be good so it's usually sugar free. Yes, not good either but I'm trying.

^^ Breakfast is just as lively as dinner was, with dishes being passed around. Clark, Diana, Dick, and Alfred fulfill their duties as the resident Morning People and make most of the conversation. Bruce drinks his coffee and slowly starts to look less dead, Jason shoves food into his face and occasionally checks the timer on his phone to see if the muffins are done baking, and Tim drinks his tea and stays largely quiet.

After all, his brain isn’t fully online yet. He wouldn’t want to blurt something out without thinking and embarrass himself in front of Superman and Wonder Woman-- or worse, upset them.^^

Tim, they adore you. They won't be upset with you. They think you're a smart kid and love you already.

^^ It all goes off the rails once Diana comments on how Themyscira puts both Gotham and Metropolis to shame. Alfred has to give them all A Look, and that stops the argument in its tracks.

Tim hopes that he’s doing a good job of hiding the shaking in his hands and how much he wants to run, run, run far away from the kitchen table and curl into a little ball and hide somewhere quiet and safe. Bruce squeezes his shoulder and gives him a concerned look, but Tim just sends him a smile that hopefully screams I’m fine and doesn’t encourage any uncomfortable questions. Eventually, Bruce’s hand falls away, but Tim still catches him sending little worried glances when Bruce thinks that he isn’t looking.^^

That and Alfred could see how it scared you Tim. Let them help you. Tell them the arguing, even playful, scared you. They'll be more careful in the future then. They still will be even without you telling them but I wish you would. I think it would help.

^^ And then Clark and Diana leave Tim’s life in much the same manner as they entered it: quickly, and with much fanfare.^^

Unlike others though Tim, they'll be back.

^^ There’s some strength training too, but Tim can only do a fraction of the number of pushups that Jason can, let alone Bruce. It’s-- demoralizing, a little bit, but Tim keeps going. What else can he do? Afterwards, Alfred always shoves water and sports drinks and heaping plates of food at them.

Tim tries his best, he really does. Bruce is already taking so much time out of his already busy schedule to train him; the least that Tim can do is put forth a good effort.

Christmas arrives quickly. Dick and Jason help set up a tree in the corner of the den-- an artificial one, so they aren’t cutting down a new tree every year. (Also, Poison Ivy has a thing against cutting down trees and even if you’re Batman, it’s generally safer to avoid pissing her off .)

They decorate it with a bunch of ornaments, some of which look to have been made by very small, clumsy hands. Alfred looks at these ones fondly when he thinks that nobody else is watching. (Tim sees, though. He’s very good at staying unnoticed.) There’s tinsel draped around the tree and someone hides candy canes in the branches that Dick delightfully eats in full view of Bruce and Alfred, but neither of them seem to really care.

For the most part, Dick stays in Gotham for the days between the end of Hanukkah and the beginning of Christmas. He cites something about “villains always trying wacky hijinks around Christmastime”. As a Gothamite, Tim can confirm that nothing good ever happens on a widely-celebrated holiday.^^

Oh Tim. You aren't a bother. At all.

So is Bludhaven safer than Gotham? In the fact that Dick doesn't patrol in during Hanukkah and Christmas. Wait, did they patrol during Hanukkah?

^^ Despite his exhaustion, Bruce still tucks Tim into bed that night. It’s kind of stupid because Tim isn’t a baby and Bruce is tired from dealing with Important Batman Business, but he does it anyways.^^

It's not stupid Tim. Bruce loves you and your his youngest, for now, the only one not in his sight during patrol. Let him tuck you in. Besides you know he probably did the same thing for the other two. Even though he saw them throughout the night.

^^ In the morning, Dick wakes everyone up at precisely eight o’clock by blasting Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” in the hallway. (Everyone except Alfred, that is, who has someone grown past the need for sleep and is already in the kitchen making breakfast.)^^

I thought it said five o'clock which is way to early after the night they had.

^^ After consuming as much of Alfred’s pancakes as Tim can physically fit into his body, the Waynes rush into the den to open their presents. Tim stares at the small mountain of presents with his name on them.

“Is this-- necessary?” He asks, wide-eyed. “I don’t need so much, you didn’t need to go to all of this trouble--”

Bruce cuts him off by dropping a well-wrapped present into Tim’s lap. “We wanted to,” he says simply. “Also, Clark dropped this off earlier today. It’s a gift from his mother.”

Tim looks up at Bruce questioningly before opening the present, and-- oh. It’s a cable knit sweater made of some of the softest mint green yarn Tim has ever felt. He runs his hands over it, marveling at the texture.

“Clark’s mother does love to knit,” Bruce remarks, smiling.

Tim freezes. “She made this?”

“I believe so, yes. She’s rather fond of making sweaters.”

“But that-- doesn’t that take a lot of time?” He questions.

Bruce shrugs and ruffles Tim’s hair. “You’re worth the time,” he promises.

Tim stares down at the sweater in his hands, protests sitting heavy on his tongue. Before he can reply, Bruce kisses the top of his head and walks away to hand Jason and Dick their presents. Tim looks between Bruce’s retreating back and the sweater in his hands, fingers tightening in the fabric.

Clark’s mother doesn’t even know him. She spent too much time and effort on him. But this is a gift and it would be rude to refuse it, right? Tim carefully refolds the sweater and places it on the couch next to him. It’s too late to get rid of it now.^^

I'm kind of envious. They get presents at Hanukkah and Christmas. Though Hanukkah seems more gag gifts than actual presents, though I do get why Diana and Clark gave them good presents. They aren't there to hand them out on Christmas.

A sweater! That is cool. I was hoping a blanket but s sweater works. They can steal each others and when the rest of the family come home,the sweaters can go through everyone.

^^ When he wakes up next, he’s in his bed. It’s the middle of the night and there’s a comfortable pressure enveloping him. His weighted blanket, he realizes. Huh, he’s pretty sure that he didn’t fall asleep here.

Oh, well. He probably was too tired to remember dragging himself into bed. Tim tugs his blankets up to his chin and goes back to sleep.^^

I would have thought Christmas would have been calmer but I should know better. Even in RL the Holidays are never truly calm.

I bet Bruce carried him. Or Dick did since Bruce has bruises on his ribs. I love how Jason was the only one not hurt. It's like that was Gotham's present to him. Not letting Robin be hurt on Christmas.

^^ Alfred cooks him a massive send-off breakfast, complete with scones baked by Jason and homemade strawberry jam. After breakfast, Dick and Jason insist on helping Tim pack. Dick’s phone blares trashy pop music as they whirl around his room, asking if he wants to take this and that with him or leave it here. It’s-- surprisingly nice, if Tim is being honest.^^

That is because it's home Tim. You're just going to a sleepover for a couple nights. (Or weeks but I'm hoping nights.) You'll be home soon.

^^ Tim nods and just watches everyone for a moment before Dick hops off the counter and wraps him in a hug. “We’re going to miss you, Timbo. Come visit my island in Animal Crossing, okay?”

“Also, you know, come visit us in person,” Jason adds. “If your parents let you, I mean.”

“I will,” Tim says, swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat. Right, his parents will be around. He’ll need to ask their permission for things like that. He lets Dick hug him and allows Jason’s hug soon after that. And then all of the Waynes are hugging him goodbye and Tim doesn’t know why he feels so weird. His parents are coming back. Surely he should be excited, but instead he just feels kind of strange and that makes his stomach twist with guilt.^^

You know something is going to happen, I know something is going to happen and you want to go home. Drake Manor isn't home, Wayne Manor is.

^^ Bruce kneels on the floor to hug Tim, wrapping his arms around him comfortably. When he draws away, he lets his hands slide down to Tim’s elbows. “Tim, buddy, remember what I said last time we dropped you off at home? I told you that you can always call me at any time, no matter what. If you need me to come pick you up or even if you just want to talk, I’ll be there. Okay?”^^

I love how Bruce keeps reminding Tim. I know it's probably annoying but I also know it's to help Tim get it through his head that he has people he can rely on. He has people who care.

^^ Frowning, Tim picks up the mysterious object. It’s a stuffed dog, small enough to fit in his hand. With its pointed ears and brown and black coat, it almost looks like Ace. It’s definitely not his, and Tim certainly doesn’t recall putting it in his backpack.

Did one of the Waynes sneak it into his bag? It seems like something they would do. Come to think of it, he’s pretty sure that Dick was the one to carry his backpack into Drake Manor.

Tim sighs and tucks the stuffed dog under some blankets in the closet, right next to the knife that Diana gave him. He’d rather not have his parents try to confiscate the stuffed animal just in case Dick wants it back later. He’s just keeping it safe, is all.

With the stuffed dog safely hidden, Tim continues unpacking. One of his duffel bags is strangely heavy and… boxy? He’s reasonably certain that he didn’t put any boxes in there. When he opens it, he finds boxes of granola bars, little squeezable containers of fruit and applesauce, and two jars of peanut butter. All nonperishables, all things that would go excellently in his food stash.

Is this Jason’s doing? It must be. Jason was the only one who knew about his food stash. Tim frowns, staring at the extra food shoved into his bag. It’s not like he can throw it away-- it would be such a waste. Since it’s here, he might as well add it to his hoard, but that doesn’t mean that he has to be happy about it.^^

The puppy is for you Tim. It's to help you. I'm glad you put it with your knife. Heck, I'm glad you took the knife. I'm hoping I'm wrong but something makes me think you'll need it.

The food is from Jason and Alfred which I got a feeling you'll need also. I'm so hoping I'm wrong though.

^^ She turns to face him, eyes narrowing, and oh no. He can already tell that she’s in a bad mood. “Tim,” she greets him coolly, “Can you go grab our bags, sweetie? I don’t feel like dealing with more messes today.”

Tim nods. “Yeah, of course. You must be tired from traveling and everything, I totally understand.”

She breezes past him, eyes hard. “Yes, well, I’m also tired of cleaning up the circus from your field trip. It was so kind of the police to get child protective services involved.”^^

You're being a bitch here Janet. Tim couldn't do anything. He's a minor! He got kidnapped! You're not even worried about him, you're more worried about your reputation.

If she's like this, I'm afraid to read how bad Jack is going to be.

^^ With a shrug, his father firmly claps him on the shoulder, making Tim jump, before continuing on into the house. Tim grabs the nearest suitcases he can find and wheels them into the house. He adds them to the luggage pile at the base of the stairs and heads back outside as he comes up with a game plan. It seems like his father isn’t in a bad mood right now, but his mother definitely is. Maybe it would help if Tim made lunch? They’re more likely to get angrier if they’re both hungry, plus it might help their moods if they saw him being helpful. It’ll take another task off their plates too.

After everything has been brought inside, Tim heads for the kitchen. He starts pulling Alfred’s soup and ingredients for sandwiches out of the fridge as his father sits down at the dining room table. The door to the home office opens and Tim stiffens as he turns on the stovetop burner and pours the soup into a saucepan. His mother’s high heels click on the marble floor as she strides towards the dining table.

“What are you doing?” she demands and Tim jumps before realizing that she wasn’t addressing him. “Why are you on your phone? You need to cancel our hotel reservations.”^^

Well I'm actually surprised about Jack.

Tim, no. This isn't your fault. You shouldn't have to carry everything.

Oh shoot. It's about to get ugly isn't it?

^^ “I don’t care about their damn email! I care about you canceling our hotel reservations because, in case you missed the memo, we won’t be in Moscow next week,” his mother retorts.

“Fine!” Throwing his hands up in the air, his father stands up and pushes in his chair. Its legs screech against the floor, producing an ugly, grating sound. “I’ll go be your secretary and cancel the reservations. It’s not like I own the company or anything.”^^

Fuck! Fuck! Tim, go hide! Hide!

^^ She yanks at his arm, and then there’s a harsh smacking sound as his father slaps his mother across the face and Tim’s blood is cold, cold cold. He stays frozen, an ice sculpture in the middle of the kitchen as his mother yanks her arm out of his father’s grip.

“I’m not going to talk to you until you’re ready to be civil,” his mother announces as she stalks away. A moment later, the office door slams shut.

Tim waits, wooden spoon in hand as he stirs the soup and very carefully does not look behind himself. Footsteps echo through the kitchen, and then Tim’s father is behind him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he snaps.

Jolting, Tim turns around as his heart rate skyrockets. “I’m making lunch for you?” he says weakly.

“Are you sassing me?” his father demands.

Tim shakes his head frantically. “No, Dad.”

Eyes narrowing, Tim’s father stares him down for a minute as Tim’s heart does its level best to escape his body. Finally, his father scoffs and turns away. “Don’t make a mess.”

@batfam-chaos, Here you go. Putting it in three parts because it's so long.

birds fly in every direction by distracted_dragon Thoughts, Part 1:

Chapter 1)

I'm loving Tim's POV. It's so refreshing in a way. I wonder what made him use Jeffery Anderson as his pseudonym. Of course Tim would make up accounts to get his ideas out there. Of course he would.

^^ The most eye-catching thing in the alley, however, is the motionless black-clad figure sprawled atop a dumpster. Emblazoned across their chest is an achingly familiar blue bird.

Nightwing.

At the other end of the alley, three other people exchange looks and slowly approach the dumpster. Their faces are all unfamiliar, but Tim catches the glint of a gun in the hands of the person in the middle. From what he can tell, their clothes don’t look outrageously expensive. The man on the right has a tattoo on his forearm that looks vaguely like something that he’s seen on a few of Maroni’s men, but it’s hard to tell. Just to be safe, he quietly pulls his camera out from his backpack and takes a picture. He takes care to lay on his stomach, pressing himself as close to the rooftop as possible to keep out of sight.^^

Why is it always Dick Tim seems to find? Like, Jason saves Tim a lot but Dick? Tim always seems to find him in trouble. Or just getting out of trouble.

^^ Luckily, they don’t seem to notice the glint of his camera lens. Tim leans back and pushes his backpack away from the edge of the roof. It nearly knocks over a couple of empty beer bottles, but Tim manages to still them before they could make any noise.

(Was someone drinking on a rooftop? That seems irresponsible.)^^

You mean like you being on the rooftop which isn't yours, Timothy?

^^ His landing isn’t the best but he doesn’t break his camera or twist an ankle or anything, so Tim counts it as a win. He creeps towards the dumpster where Nightwing is lying and sighs in relief when he sees the rise and fall of the vigilante’s chest. Good, he isn’t dead. The two holes in the side of his suit don’t look good, though. Neither does the slowly spreading pool of blood that’s dampening the garbage around him.

“Um, hi” He begins and awkwardly tugs his hood down. Hopefully, it’ll cover his face enough to keep him from being recognized, either by Nightwing or whatever cameras are likely embedded in his suit. Taking care to warp his words into a thick Gotham accent, he adds, “I’m here to help. Are you awake?”

Nightwing grunts.

“Okay, that’s probably a good thing. Uh. Did you already call for help?”

Another grunt. This one sounds vaguely affirmative.

“Good, great,” he says, nodding. At least he doesn’t have to figure out a way to get Nightwing back to the rest of the Bats. “I don’t exactly know a lot about taking care of bullet wounds and I’d rather not get electrocuted by your suit while trying to stop the bleeding, so… I guess I’m going to go?”

Nightwing’s arms twitch and he weakly tries to push himself up, groaning.

“I don’t know if moving is a good idea,” Tim tries, but Nightwing only grunts in response.

Halfway through, he seems to give up and lays back down. The white-out lenses in his suit prevent Tim from seeing exactly where he’s looking, but something tells Tim that Nightwing’s eyes are fixed on him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay until I see that Batman or Robin has come to get you. I’ll stay out of sight, though.” Tim turns and starts to walk towards the other building’s remaining fire escape before he hesitates. He looks over his shoulder and surely enough, Nightwing is still looking straight at him. “Um. Sorry that I couldn’t help more. You do good work,” he offers meekly before turning tail and scurrying up the fire escape. His camera swings about, bumping against his chest with every step.

Heart pounding, Tim flattens himself against the roof and settles in to wait for the cavalry to arrive. He just met Nightwing. Nightwing! He also probably sounded like a complete idiot and he really hopes that Nightwing didn’t realize how young he is. Shadows can hide a lot and he tried to make his voice sound deeper than it actually is, but there’s only so much that he can do.

He clutches his camera protectively and tries to even out his breathing. If he could see his hands, he’d bet that his knuckles are white. Soon enough, the telltale rumble of the Batmobile roars in the distance and Tim sighs in relief.^^

Really Tim? Baby boy, this is going to come back to bite you I don't doubt.

^^ Monday rolls around, ushering in yet another week of school. Tim has a history quiz that he forgets about until fifteen minutes before class. He spends the last part of his English class skimming through his history notes. All things considered, the quiz goes okay. Still, Tim is all too eager to leave class and head to the library for lunch. He nearly misses seeing Jason Todd-- Batman’s current Robin-- as they pass each other in the hallway.

Jason has dark circles under his eyes and his mouth is set in a grim line. He doesn’t seem to notice Tim as they walk by each other, but that’s unsurprising. It’s unlikely that Jason even realizes that Tim exists.

The mass of students swarming towards the cafeteria whisks Jason away. In the blink of an eye, he’s gone.^^

Jason was probably up all weekend helping to look for you, Tim. You really think Jason won't notice you? He might not recognize people but he is trained by Bruce...

^^ Tim thinks of the two bullet holes in Nightwing’s torso, of the concern soaking Batman’s voice as he called out for his son. He thinks of the grim weariness on Jason’s face. He thinks of the photographs buried deep in his closet of Robin and Nightwing grinning as they shout jokes to each other, of Batman smiling and shaking his head at their antics. Of Batman standing on a rooftop overlooking the city, of the stars bleeding into his silhouette.

He hits save on the document and closes it. Writing about attacks so soon after his encounter with Nightwing seems like it would be asking for trouble.

His knees crack when he stands up to get ready for his usual night out on the town. With one of the Bats injured, he’ll need to step up his surveillance game until Nightwing is back in commission. After all, there’s work to be done.^^

Tim, Tim, Tim. I'm glad you have enough sense not to post yet but I got a feeling you'll be looked into even more than you probably are sooner than later.

Chapter 2)

You know I hate how easy it is to say Jack and Janet are bad parents. But canon wise they were very neglectful and left Tim alone alot. Yes, he went to boarding school but still...it doesn't help when fanon writes them because of how they were in canon. Sometimes love isn't enough.

^^ His phone had stopped ringing a few moments ago, but it starts up again rather quickly. Is it an emergency? Did someone die? Images of hospitals and potential accidents race through his head as Tim accepts the call and holds his phone up to his ear. “Dad? Is everything okay?” He tries to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

Without preamble, his dad says, “Some of our colleagues have been asking what you’re up to.” There’s an edge of a grumble in his voice. He’s probably upset that he had to wait so long for Tim to pick up the phone.

“Well, I’m in school right now--” Tim begins, but his dad cuts him off.

“Timothy,” his father says curtly. Tim’s blood freezes as ice fills his veins. “I mean college. You need to start bulking up your resume. It’ll look good on college applications and reflect well on us. Your mother and I have emailed you a list of clubs to choose from. Let us know what you’ve decided by the end of the week.”

He leans back against the cold concrete wall and drums his fingers on the grooves between the cinder blocks. “Okay. Thank you.”

His dad grunts. “Oh, and next time? Pick up the damn phone. It’s getting late over here and I don’t want to waste time listening to the phone ringing while I wait for you to pick up.”

“Right,” Tim says. “Sorry, Dad. I was in class.”

“Are you telling me that you’re supposed to be in class right now?” his dad demands. “What are you doing, then? Go back to class! We can’t afford to let your grades slip.”

“I’ll go back right now. Bye, Dad.”

“Bye.”

The call clicks as his dad hangs up. Tim stares at the words “call ended” blinking at him from his phone before he shoves it back into his pocket and heads back to class. His back is still cold from the cool concrete wall, but Tim ignores the feeling as he slips back into his seat.^^

Stupid Jack. Getting pissed Tim won't answer you and then getting mad he's not in class. Make up your damn mind!

Book Club! That means Jason! Yes!

^^ Tim shuffles over and obediently sits in the chair to Jason’s left. He shrugs his backpack off and gently dumps on the floor. “Yeah, I’m a freshman.”

Jason scratches at his chin. “Huh, weird. Your face is kinda familiar. What’s your name?”

“I’m Timothy Drake. I live next door to you,” he explains, resisting the urge to kick his feet like a child.

His eyes widen. “Oh, so you’re the Drake’s kid! Well, welcome to book club. By the way, do you like being called Timothy?”

Tim picks at the hem of his sleeve as he considers the question. “Tim is fine,” he decides. “Or you can call me Timothy. I don’t really mind.”^^

See, Jason knows you. He just doesn't 'know, know' you. At least not yet.

^^ think the younger son did it,” Tim says abruptly. A few heads turn to look at him. “The book mentioned that he used to help his mother with making fertilizer, but it didn’t say anything about using natural fertilizers. That means that he likely has experience in dealing with various chemicals. He could’ve laced her tea with something.”

One of the other students frowns contemplatively. “But why would Jerome kill his mother? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I don’t think that he meant to kill his mother. I think he wanted to kill his older brother so he could take over his general store. His brother had a fancy kettle in his kitchen, but the other appliances were run down. Why would he have a nice kettle if he didn’t like tea?” Tim picks at his jacket’s sleeve. “So Jerome set a trap. He laced some nice Darjeeling with something poisonous and left it in the kitchen right before his brother was supposed to arrive. It would be the perfect trap if his brother wasn’t late, allowing Mrs. Bigby to accidentally drink the poisoned tea first.”

“Don’t spoil it!” someone hisses.

Tim looks up. “I, um, was just guessing. I haven’t read the book before. Did I guess correctly?”^^

Go Tim! You are an awesome detective and you think as fast, if not faster than Bruce. (Which is so not helping my headcanon that Tim is Bruce's biological son.)

^^ This time, it takes Tim thirty-one pages to guess the murderer. Although it technically took him longer to guess correctly than with the first book, the delighted look on Jason’s face makes up for it.^^

I would be delighted also. Well after I got over not figuring it out myself and that someone did guess as we read the book.

^^ Bruce has first editions of Meredith Moore’s The Finding Game and a complete collection of the works of Kartik Mishra. Have you read either of them?”^^

I looked both of them up because of this and got a bit confused because they had another book for Meredith and a lot of people named Kartik Mishra came up on the results. I'll have to try again later on.

^^ Something doesn’t feel right. Why is Jason so interested in him? He didn’t think that he revealed anything particularly noteworthy about himself aside from his newfound ability to guess the ending of mystery novels. His mention of Kartik Mishra was far too obscure to connect him to Jeffrey Anderson, who had only cited Mishra’s work twice, so that couldn’t be it.

Tim pulls on his helmet and kicks his bike into motion with one foot. He’ll have to investigate this matter further.^^

You Tim. You pulled up on Jason's radar, before this probably, Andi won't be surprised if they figure you out because of your voice.

Yeah! Tim gets to meet his grandfather and dad tomorrow! Officially!

Chapter 3)

^^ Obediently, Tim trails Jason over to the car. A somewhat pale, balding man steps out of the driver’s side door and nods at them in greeting. He’s wearing a well-tailored black blazer and dress slacks. “Good afternoon Master Jason, Master Timothy. I am Alfred Pennyworth, Master Bruce’s butler.” He opens the door to the back seat of the car.

“He’s also the main thing keeping Bruce from accidentally burning down the house when he tries to cook,” Jason adds cheerily as he slides into the back seat.^^

I love this introduction. I love how Jason just disses on Bruce. It's so him.

^^ “So, Master Timothy. Do you have any allergies? I was planning on making cookies for you boys, but I would like to make sure that I don’t accidentally poison you.” The car turns onto the main road and Alfred meets Tim’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

His eyes are dark brown and lined with wrinkles. They look like the eyes of any normal human, and yet. It’s so subtle that Tim almost misses it, but something about the way that Alfred Pennyworth looks at Tim makes him feel like he’s able to see the storms lurking beneath Tim’s skin.

He knows. Nobody whose eyes can see that much would be able to work closely with Bruce Wayne and not realize that he’s Batman.

A gentle nudge interrupts Tim's train of thought. He glances over and finds Jason leaning back into his seat. Right, Alfred had asked him a question.

“Sorry, I spaced out for a second. I’m not allergic to anything,” Tim replies hastily.

Unfazed, Alfred turns the car onto the familiar winding road that contains both Drake Manor and Wayne Manor. “All right. And do you have a favorite type of cookie?”

He shrugs. “I’ll eat just about anything. I’m not very picky.”

“I didn’t ask what you would eat, Master Tim. I asked if you had a favorite type of cookie,” Alfred corrects smoothly. “The kitchen is well-stocked, so I can assure you that we certainly have the ingredients for whichever type of cookie you choose.”

Tim falls silent, chewing his lip contemplatively. Choosing a type of cookie is a lot of responsibility. What if Jason doesn’t like it? What if nobody else in Wayne Manor likes it but they have to awkwardly pretend that they do to avoid hurting Tim’s feelings?

“You really can’t go wrong with Alfred’s cooking. His cookies are the best,” Jason interjects. “If you want recommendations, his chocolate chip cookies are great. He makes some mean snickerdoodles and white chocolate macadamia nut cookies too.”

“Chocolate chip sounds good,” Tim decides at last. “Thank you,” he adds quickly.^^

Of course Alfred knows. Alfred, fanon Alfred, knows all.

Tim, don't worry. Alfred's used to Bruce, Dick, and Jason spacing out so you're fine.

Okay, can I eat one of Alfred's cookies? Or his food? Please.

^^ “By the way,” Jason drawls, drawing Tim’s attention back to him, “Do you like dogs?”

“Yes, I do. Why do you ask?”

The car pulls in front of the main entrance of Wayne Manor. Like before, Alfred gets out of the car to open the car door for Tim and Jason.

“Thank you very much for driving us, Alfred,” Tim tells him as he straightens up, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.

“It’s my pleasure, Master Timothy,” Alfred replies before he climbs back into the car and drives off.

Instead of answering Tim’s question, Jason walks up and opens the front doors. A very excited German Shepherd darts out, bouncing in place as Jason leans over to run his hands down its sides.

“This is Ace. He’s about six years old and he is a very good boy,” Jason informs him solemnly. “Want to pet him?”

Tim nods and carefully approaches Ace, extending one hand for him to sniff. After a moment, Ace shoves his wet nose into Tim’s hand and gives it a satisfied lick. Taking this as acceptance of his presence, Tim scratches behind Ace’s ears. His tail wags slowly at first but quickly speeds up, especially once Tim starts scratching his chin with his other hand.

“You’re right,” Tim says, looking up at Jason. “He’s a very good boy.”^^

Did Alfred drive to the garage? Why not just go to the garage and then everyone gets out at the same time without wasting gas?

Ace! Ace! Ace! I love Ace! He's such a good boy and he knows Tim is not a bad person do he's extra good.

^^ “All right,” Tim agrees. His school uniform is covered in dog fur, which would normally drive his mother mad, but Tim finds that it doesn’t really bother him.^^

It shouldn't. It just means you got loved a whole lot.

^^ “Dad’s study’s this way,” Jason says, turning back to look at Tim. “That’s where he keeps all of his--”

“Hey, whatcha doing?” A door directly across from them slams open and someone with bright blue eyes, warm brown skin, and a blinding smile bursts out. Their face is oddly familiar. Tim must have seen them before somewhere--

Oh, that’s Nightwing without his mask. Or rather, that’s Richard Grayson, Bruce’s eldest son.

“Jay, you have a friend over?” He tilts his head curiously, peering at Tim. “Have we met before? You look familiar.”

Tim forces himself to unfreeze, though the sound of the slamming door still echoes through his head. Pasting a smile on his face, he extends one hand to Richard to shake. “Hi, I’m Timothy Drake. I live next door.”

“I’m Dick Grayson,” says Dick, smiling as he smoothly steps forward to shake Tim’s hand. He steps back and nudges the door closed with a soft click, much quieter than his explosive entrance. “So, what are you planning on doing?”

Jason rolls his eyes and turns to Tim. “Dick’s bored out of his mind. He has this nasty cut on his side that he got from falling asleep on a stapler. He just fell straight onto it like--”

With all of the grace of a professionally trained acrobat, Dick darts forward and lovingly gives Jason a noogie. Tim just stands there and blinks, unsure of what to do. Ace pads up to Tim and shoves his head into Tim’s hand, so he obligingly pats Ace’s head.

“Hey!” Jason protests, squirming in his brother’s grip. He does not, Tim notes, try to elbow him or use any of the combat moves that Tim knows he’s capable of.

It’s likely to protect Nightwing’s stitches, Tim notes absently. The man’s wounds weren’t one hundred percent life-threatening, but they were certainly serious. Reopening those wounds would not be a fun experience.

After one final noogie, Dick releases Jason and ruffles his hair. “In my defense, I didn’t fall asleep on a stapler. There may have been some sneaking out and alcohol involved, though.” He winks at Tim.

“He fell on a vase when he was sneaking back in,” Jason sighs. “I don’t know how, but he managed to shatter it in such a way that it stabbed him. Truly astonishing.”

Dick only grinned. “Don’t hate me because you ain’t me,” he sing-songs.^^

I should have realized Dick would be home.

Really? That's your excuse boys? Alfred signed off on that excuse? LoL it's do flimsy I'm surprised people believe it.

^^ The thought of spending time with Nightwing is a little bit terrifying but, at the same time, very cool. Tim nods and Dick beams, clapping his hands together.

“Great! Come on, I’ll show you where they are.” Despite his still-healing injury, Dick practically bounces down the hallway.

Jason and Tim follow him, albeit at a much calmer pace. Dick stops in front of a set of intimidating wooden double doors and pushes them open, revealing what must be Bruce Wayne’s study. Without skipping a beat, Dick makes a beeline for the towering bookshelves at the far end of the room.^^

You are not helping your excuse at all by acting like that Dick. Not at all.

^^ Jason snorts and turns to Tim. “Dick is a theater kid at heart. He does do some pretty good voices, if you’re fine with him crashing our hangout.”

Tim cracks a smile. “I’m fine if Dick reads.”

“Okay!” Dick chirps and leans back into the couch. Jason wastes no time in wriggling closer to Dick and leaning his head on his big brother’s shoulder as Dick opens Meredith Moore’s The Finding Game. It’s clearly well-loved-- the spine is cracked and some of the pages are dog-eared. Tim thinks of the pristine books in his parents’ office with rigid spines and unmarred pages. Most of the things in their office are too old or delicate for him to touch; he’s only allowed to handle whatever paperwork they ask him to fetch. Envious, he imagines running his hands over the pages of his mother’s copies of excavation reports before he quickly banishes the thought. Their rules exist for a reason.

As it turns out, Jason was right about Dick’s acting abilities. He does a different voice for each character and makes exaggerated faces as he speaks. Jason occasionally chimes in with commentary, but Tim mostly stays quiet and absorbs Dick’s telling of the story.^^

Dick's going to read! I have a couple of books like that I'll admit but I try to read them all. Even if it's only once.

I be absorbed by Dick reading also. In my head, they all have lovely voices.

^^ Forty pages in, Tim is getting restless. He’s been maintaining good posture for most of the reading, but his back is starting to hurt. Also, he’s pretty sure that he knows who the killer is, but it’s hard to tell if Dick will get mad at him if he voices his guess. “Am I allowed to guess the murderer?”

Jason looks over at Tim and snorts. “I brought you here to unleash you on a bunch of mystery books, remember?” He lightly boops Tim’s nose. Mystified, Tim nearly crosses his eyes trying to follow Jason’s finger. “Yeah, you’re allowed to guess the murderer. Who d’you think did it?”

Mollified, Tim picks at the edge of his sleeve as he thinks. “Probably Tom Harbott. If Casey Rogerson died, then his house would become public property and be dealt with by the state. When Harbott is cataloguing the worth of the house, then he could easily take a few items-- some of Casey’s jewels, maybe-- and nobody would know that they were missing. Plus, Harbott strikes me as kind of slimy.”

Both of the Wayne boys turn to look at him, but Tim stares at his hands instead of meeting their eyes. “I could be wrong, though. It’s just a gut feeling.”

“Jay’s right,” Dick says after a moment. “You are really good at this. Nice work, Tim!”^^

He's so amazing and smart and his brothers are going to tell him that a lot. He's also a mini Bruce in detective mode. I thought Jason was like Bruce a whole lot but Tim probably beats all his siblings in being like their dad the most.

^^ Tim takes a cookie and settles back against the couch as he nibbles at it. It’s very fucking good. He’s careful to keep crumbs from getting all over Bruce’s couch-- he wouldn’t want Jason and Dick to be on the receiving end of Bruce’s wrath if he comes home and finds his couch covered in crumbs.

Cookie in one hand, Dick picks up the story where he left off. Tim is content to sit with his hands clasped in his lap and lean back into the cushions while Jason wastes no time in using Dick’s shoulder as his own personal pillow. The floor behind them creaks as someone walks across it. Tensing, Tim immediately stops slouching.

“Hey, Bruce!” Dick calls, twisting around to beam at the man himself.

Bruce Wayne. Batman. The person who Tim has been following and surreptitiously photographing for the past few years.

The Batman suit must have platforms in it because the man before him is ever so slightly shorter than Tim expected. Granted, he’s definitely still over six feet tall, but something about the Batman suit makes him look bigger. More intimidating. Right now, Bruce is wearing a rumpled suit and has a five o’clock shadow.^^

Tim, Bruce isn't going to care. Ace probably jumps on the furniture and gets his fur everywhere so why should Bruce, Alfred really, care if you get crumbs on the furniture? People do all the time! I bet Bruce does!

Damn, Tim was just getting comfortable. He's got good instincts though. I never thought of Bruce using platforms but it makes sense. Throws people off that way.

^^ “Tim and I are in the book club together. It turns out that he’s scary good at guessing the murderer in mystery novels, so I bribed him into coming over with some of your old books,” Jason informs him, leaning back into the couch.

Bruce nods thoughtfully. “Sounds like fun. What did you read?”

“The first book in The Finding Game. Tim figured out the murderer in forty pages,” Jason replies proudly.

“Damn, that’s pretty good,” he whistles and shakes his head before he smiles at Tim. “The first time I read it, it took me twice that to figure it out. Good job, Tim. So, how are you doing? I hope that my sons haven’t been giving you too much trouble.”^^

Bruce tossing Dick out makes me laugh when he stays himself. Bruce is so proud of Tim for figuring out the mystery. Oh my gosh Bruce. You are as bad as Dick. Then again, they get it from you.

^^ “Bunch of privileged ass kids who’ve never experienced a single hardship in their lives,” Jason grumbles.

His words elicit a chuckle from Bruce. Tim reaches down and pats Ace’s head.

After a moment, Bruce’s attention switches back to Tim. “So, Tim,” he begins, “Do you think that your family would object to you staying for dinner? Alfred’s making lasagna. Or we can give you a ride home if you need one.”

Jason twists so he can nudge Tim’s leg with his foot. “You should have dinner with us, Alfred’s cooking is amazing.”

He really doesn’t want to impose, but since he’s been invited and Jason seems to want him there… “My parents are out of town right now, so they won’t mind.” Tim shrugs, smiling. “I’d love to stay for dinner.”

Jason flops back into the couch and pokes Tim with one foot. “Just don’t forget to text someone so your family doesn’t assume that you’ve been kidnapped or something,” he says around a mouthful of cookie.

“Will do,” Tim replies and shoves the remainder of his cookie into his mouth. ^^

Poor Tim. Jason's basically insulting Tim to his face. Well not him but I bet Tim took it that way.

Tim, really? You didn't text anyone...big red flag. Especially for Batman and his sons.

I love the dinner. Tim fits right in. Of course Bruce wanted Tim to walk home with Jason. They are worried and Tim speaking about how only Mrs. Mac comes around and his parents are gone is going to raise more red flags. I'm glad Tim has the rest of the family's numbers. I just hope he uses more than Jason's and Dick's.

Chapter 4)

^^ On Monday, Tim steps into the debate team’s assigned classroom during his lunch period. Multiple heads swivel to stare at him and Tim slips on his best polite smile.

“Ah, hello there!” A blond-haired boy hops off the desk he was perched on at the front of the classroom. “If you’re here for the debate team, then you’re in the right place.”

“Good to hear,” Tim replies and sticks out his hand as the other student approaches him. “I’mTim Drake.”

They shake hands. “I’m Patrick Weston. You’re the Tim Drake of Drake Industries, right?”

“That’s right.” Maintaining his polite smile hurts Tim’s face.

Patrick grins and claps Tim on his back, forcing him to hide his flinch. “Fantastic! You’ll be a great addition to the team. Come over here and I’ll introduce you to everyone. That’s Abigail Mercer of Mercer Incorporated…”

He proceeds to introduce him to several students who Tim has known since kindergarten on account of them running in the same social circles. In short, they’re all a bunch of rich brats.

“So, what kinds of cars do your parents have?” asks Hunter Smith of the Smith Corporation.

Rich, pretentious brats.

Tim does not like debate team.^^

The debate team sounds like they don't even debate anyone. Just gossip. That sucks. Poor Tim. At least he only has to deal with them twice a week.

Tim beating Jason at Super Smash Bros makes me laugh along with Alfred hearing Jason and Dick curse. Why is Dick hanging out with these two? He's off work right now because of his injury but doesn't he have the Titans to hang out with? Not that Tim probably minds....I wouldn't.

^^ Tim tries to spend a handful of hours every night keeping an eye on the Escabedo Cartel’s warehouses. Between homework, gymnastics classes, martial arts classes, working on his latest Jeffrey Anderson draft, and hanging out with Jason and Dick, he doesn’t make it out to Gotham every single night.

As far as he can tell, nothing out of the ordinary has happened at the row of the Escabedo’s warehouses on Seventh Street. Still, something in his gut nags at him. The Odessa mob and the Escabedo Cartel have worked too closely together in the past for Tim to brush them off, especially when it comes to the Odessa’s connections to apparent arms smuggling.

There is nothing to do now but to lay low and wait. And if Tim occasionally spends an extra thirty minutes at the end of the night waiting near one of the Bats’ usual patrol routes for a glimpse of a cape, well. Nobody has to know but him.^^^

Tim's going to get hurt isn't he? I hope not.

^^ Bruce, conspicuously, is missing. Dick mentions a last-minute work trip, but Tim doesn’t worry too much. The news earlier that day announced that the Justice League is fighting some giant robots down in Kentucky. They’ve dealt with worse in the past; Bruce will be fine.^^

Bruce will be but will you Tim?

^^ His parents don’t call that week. Tim bikes to school, does his homework, and hangs out with Jason and Dick. He attends his gymnastics lessons and martial arts classes. Mrs. Mac comes by and leaves meals in the fridge for him.

Drake Manor remains empty, save for Tim wandering about like a ghost.^^

They aren't coming home later that month are they?

^^ He holds his breath and snaps pictures as several people carry cardboard boxes out of the warehouse and load them into the truck. It’s impossible to tell what’s inside, but it’s probably nothing good. After all, why else would they go to the trouble of loading unmarked boxes into a van after midnight?

An unfamiliar man steps out of the warehouse and walks over to the person with the epaulette tattoos. He grabs something from his pocket and holds it out to the man-- money, maybe? Tim shifts, trying to get a better angle, when his foot strikes the metal shell of the HVAC unit to his left.

The clang rings out, unnaturally loud in Tim’s ears. Multiple heads swivel to look up at the roof, but Tim doesn’t stick around to see if they pull out their guns. He’s grabbing his things and getting the fuck out of there.

With clumsy hands, Tim shoves the lens cap back onto his camera. He tosses the entire thing into his backpack before leaping onto the next rooftop and starting to run.

Tim was born and raised in Gotham. He is intimately familiar with the sound of gunshots. Still, he’s never been the intended target before. When he hears the familiar pop pop pop of shots being fired, his heart rises into his through. He has a tiny canister of pepper spray and a Swiss army knife, but neither of those things will help him here. Right now, what Tim needs to do is run.

 And so he does.^^

Shoot!! Run Tim, run!

^^ Around four blocks away from the Escabedo’s warehouses, he jumps across a narrow alley to reach the next roof. It’s a routine jump, one he’s done many times before, but then his ankle buckles when he lands and all of his weight goes onto it and he’s falling. If he wasn’t wearing a backpack, he could roll and distribute the momentum. But Tim is wearing a backpack and his backpack contains his camera.

Tim will not risk breaking his camera.

So he holds out his arms the way that he was taught in his martial arts classes so the force of the fall will be distributed from his hands to his elbows. Tim falls and hits the rough concrete roof with a thump.

For a moment, he’s dimly aware of his throbbing ankle plus a stinging knee and hands. The knee and hands are just scraped, he thinks. His ankle is another matter entirely, but he doesn’t have time to check. Out of the corner of his eye, he can just barely see what looks like a black van.^^

Well he isn't shot but dang is he hurt.

^^ By the time that Tim reaches the front door, his breathing is ragged. From his shin down, his leg feels like it was dipped in magma and then shot. He’s kind of surprised that his foot hasn’t fallen off yet. It takes him longer than usual to unlock the front door, thanks to his shaking hands. Tim manages to haul himself inside and shut the door behind himself. He leans his back against it for a moment, breathing hard, before he slowly slides to the floor

Why does everything suck? Why can’t his body just do stuff and not break?^^

Thank Ra, you got home safely Tim but you're hurt. That's why everything sucks right now.

^^ Tim shuffles around the living room with his chair, grabbing white blankets from the back of sofas. Finally, he picks a spot in front of his favorite couch and sets his sneakers next to it. He lays out the fluffiest-looking blanket before wrapping the others around him. His backpack goes under his foot to elevate it-- he’s pretty sure that he read somewhere that you’re supposed to do that-- and he sandwiches the ice pack between his foot and his backpack. An inelegant solution, but it’ll get the job done.

He closes his eyes and the throbbing in his foot abates slightly. It still feels like a bear is trying to chew his leg off, but the night’s adrenaline has long since worn off and Tim is exhausted.

Tim grabs sleep in short snatches where he sleeps like a rock until the pain in his foot wakes him up. It’s not the best situation, but it’s the only one he has.^^

At least you took the best care you can of your ankle, knee, and hands. Now to explain it to your brothers...

Chapter 5)

Oh boy.....I can just feel the worry everyone will have.

^^ Tim grabs a handful of cheerios and shoves it into his mouth as he types out a message. He doesn’t want to cancel but if any of the Waynes see his ankle, then they’re going to start asking questions. If he texts them now saying that he might not make it because he might be sick and then sends a follow up text later saying that he’s actually sick, then it’ll seem like the natural progression of illness. That won’t be suspicious, right?

Tim [10/07, 11:20 AM]: I might not make it today. I’m not feeling well, but I’ll let you know how it goes.

There, sent. He turns his phone on silent and leaves it face down on the floor next to him. With a sigh, Tim pulls the blankets around himself once more and snuggles into his nest. It’s too late in the day for him to go back to sleep, but maybe he can close his eyes for a while.^^

Good luck Tim. You're getting visitors whether you want them or not.

^^ After a minute, the knocking ceases and he can just barely hear faint squabbling outside. He would be concerned that the people from last night had finally found them if not for two reasons: first, they wouldn’t knock if they were coming to kill him and second, they definitely wouldn’t be arguing outside if they were coming to kill him.

Besides, those voices sound vaguely familiar.

The front door swings open. Hey, didn’t Tim lock the door behind himself when he came home last night?

“Tim?” Jason calls. The door swings shut with a soft click.

A second later, Dick’s voice chimes in. “Tim? Are you alive?”

“I’m here,” Tim says, not bothering to turn over to face them.

“Tim! There you are, we were worried about you,” Dick exclaims.

Footsteps approach him-- exaggerated for his benefit, surely-- and then the Wayne boys enter his field of vision. Their eyes sweep over him as they catalogue the situation. (Ah, the wonders of Bat training.) Tim blinks up at them and yawns so wide that his jaw cracks.^^

I bet they noticed the blood also, there had to be some, on the front door.

^^ Unfortunately for Tim, the spot that Jason chooses to nudge happens to be where Tim’s injured foot is.

Tim just barely manages to keep himself from shouting. What comes out of his mouth instead sort of resembles a choked-off groan or yelp. Immediately, both boys are kneeling next to him, concern written all over their faces as Tim blinks away the sudden tears from his eyes.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry--” Jason begins, distraught, but Dick quiets him with a look.

“Tim,” Dick says, voice firm but gentle. “Where are you hurt?”

He refuses to look away until Tim hoarsely replies, “Left foot.”^^

Dick is such a big brother/mother hen here. Got a feeling Bruce is going to be just as bad. Not to mention Alfred.

^^ “Landed weirdly on my foot,” Tim replies, closing his eyes. “On the stairs.” The lie burns in his chest, but they either don’t notice or choose to not push.^^

They won't push for now. Later on they will.

^^ “Hey, Tim.” Dick’s voice sounds much closer than it previously did. Tim opens his eyes and finds Dick crouching next to Jason at his side. “Your ankle definitely looks sprained, possibly broken. We’re going to take you back to the manor so Bruce can help us figure out what to do, okay?”

“Okay,” Tim mumbles.

Dick smiles gently at him. “We’re going to carry you upstairs so you can grab some of your things, all right? You can hang out at our house and we can help you call one of your relatives or family friends so you can stay with them until you’re better. It’ll be safer to have someone keeping an eye on you instead of letting you hobble around everywhere by yourself.”

Tim shakes his head. “I don’t have any relatives nearby.”

Dick tilts his head. “What about any family friends that you could call?”

Another shake of his head. Frankly, Tim has no idea who his parents’ friends are other than the people who they occasionally chat with at galas, but he’s pretty sure that they don’t count.

“All right,” Dick says. “Well, you can always stay with us, but I bet Bruce is going to need to discuss it with your parents first.^^

Bruce is going to frown and look into Tim faster than he was I bet. Tim better be ready to live at the Manor for a while, if not forever soon.

^^ Both boys’ eyes fixate on Tim’s wrists as the sleeve of his hoodie slides back with the motion. He frowns in confusion before remembering the band-aids covering the scrapes on his palms. “I tried to catch myself when I fell,” he explains and then adds, “They weren’t bleeding too badly, but I didn’t want to get the couch dirty.”

Dick’s gaze sharpens and for a terrifying moment, Tim thinks that he’s going to get mad at him. But then his expression smooths out and he nods thoughtfully. “We can check those out at the manor. Tim, I’m going to pick you up so we can take you upstairs and grab some of your things. Sound like a plan?”^^

Dick isn't mad at you baby boy. He's angry that you had to deal with this alone. No one should have to deal with cleaning up and etc after getting hurt. Not to mention the part about the couch, you probably didn't even realize, caught his attention.

The scene of Tim getting carried upstairs makes me smile.

^^ A pang shoots through Tim’s chest as the front door closes behind them with a click. As they walk away, he looks over his shoulder at Drake Manor, stately and silent as always. He doesn’t know why he expected the manor to look any different without him in it.^^.

Because it looks like you never even lived there Tim. Plus, I'm hoping, it might be one of the last times you see it.

^^ Jason pulls out his phone as they head towards Wayne Manor. “Hi, B.” A pause. When Jason speaks again, he’s slid into something resembling his Robin voice in tone, if not in pitch. “We found Tim. He’s moderately injured. Looks like he has a few scrapes and his ankle is pretty messed up, so we’re bringin’ him back home with us… No, they weren’t there. He says that he doesn’t have any relatives or family friends that he could stay with either.” Another pause. “Nope, nothing… I know, me neither.”

“Have you eaten lunch yet?” Dick asks casually as they cross over onto the Waynes’ property. “We can have Alfred heat up some leftovers for you. He made some really good lemon chicken and potatoes last night that I think you would like. He also makes really good sandwiches and I think there’s some leftover soup in the fridge.”

“...A sandwich would be nice,” Tim agrees after a moment of thought before quickly adding, “But I don’t want to impose. You don’t have to feed me.”

“Nothing urgent,” Jason says into his phone, casting a sidelong look at Tim. “Yeah. Uh huh, all right.”

Dick cranes his neck to stare incredulously at Tim. “Of course we have to feed you, buddy! You’re, what, twelve? You’re still growing and you need the nutrients and energy.”

“Cool, see you soon. Love you, dad. Bye.” Jason puts his phone back into his pocket and turns to Tim. “Sorry, did I hear you say something about us not needing to feed you? What, are you a robot or somethin’?”

“Jason,” Dick says in warning, though his tone remains light.

Ignoring him, Jason barrels on. “Last I checked, you need food. Of course we’re gonna feed you. It’s not like Bruce can’t afford it or something.”

Tim watches Jason carefully, sinking into the back of Dick’s neck. “I know, I just don’t want to impose. That’s all.”

Jason’s face softens. “You’re never imposing on us, Timbo. Now come on, Bruce is waiting for us.”^^

I love how Dick is distracting Tim from the phone call while talking about food. Something was going on there and I bet it has to do with keeping Tim.

You are not a burden, Tim. You are not. You are loved.

^^ He’s smiling, but there’s an air of tension about him. Is he mad? Maybe he’s upset that Dick and Jason decided to bring Tim back to Wayne Manor without asking first. Or maybe he’s mad at Tim for spraining his ankle? Or he could have been doing important Batman business and was interrupted. It could be any number of things. 

“Hey, boys,” Bruce greets them. His eyes flit over them, presumably checking for injuries, before settling on Tim. “Hi, Tim. I heard that you had a rough night.”

Tim shrugs and tightens his grip around Dick’s neck, careful to not choke him. “I guess,” he deflects. 

Bruce’s unnerving gaze stays on him for a moment longer. If Tim didn’t know any better, he would’ve sworn that Bruce has Superman’s x-ray vision. When Bruce smiles, Tim feels himself relax. “Let’s get you inside and we can figure out what to do, okay?”

They file inside the manor. As Jason steps past him, Bruce takes one of the bags from his hands and shoulders it. It just so happens to be the backpack that Tim likes to take with him into Gotham at night. The irony of Batman carrying a backpack that contains the camera that Tim has used to photograph the Bats for the past few years does not escape him.

“I’m going to take Tim over to the kitchen and get him some lunch,” Dick tells Bruce.

“All right.” Bruce nods and looks over at Tim. “Jason and I are going to take your things up to a guest room for you. We’ll be down in a few minutes, okay?” 

“Okay,” Tim replies. There are still traces of tension in Bruce’s face and Tim hopes that Bruce isn’t pulling Jason aside to yell at him.^^

No, no Tim. Bruce is not angry with you or your brothers. He probably tried calling your parents and couldn't get hold of them. That's it. He's worried.

Jason isn't getting yelled at. He's telling his dad his side of the events and then will have Dick tell him, his side. He's finding out what happened. That's it.

^^ Bruce hums noncommittally. “That’s good. Do you mind if I take a look at your ankle? Dick said that he’s already checked for any obvious fractures, so I won’t do that again.”

“Go ahead.” Tim nods and slides his now-empty plate away from him. Stepping over to Tim, Bruce removes the ice pack from his ankle and holds it in surprisingly careful fingers.

“That doesn’t look pleasant,” Bruce says, making a sympathetic face as he examines Tim’s foot.

Tim hadn’t bothered to fully check out his ankle yet and he’s inclined to agree with Bruce. In the light of the kitchen, the purple bruises wrapping around his ankle look like some sort of bizarre ankle cuff. The swelling has morphed his foot and ankle into something resembling one of those long, tubular balloons that clowns use to make balloon animals.

Bruce glances up. “Is it okay if I touch your ankle? I won’t check for fractures like Dick did ealrier, just swelling.”

“That’s fine,” Tim replies.^^

Why did Bruce repeat himself twice? To make sure it got through to Tim that he had choices?

^^ “Did you take any painkillers?”

“Um, I took two ibuprofen last night.”

“Nothing this morning?”

Tim nods and Bruce turns to Jason, who is already rummaging around in one of the cabinets.

“Here,” Jason says at last, tossing a bottle over to Bruce.

Bruce uncaps the ibuprofen bottle and shakes four pills into his hand. “I’m going to have you take four. I don’t like the look of that swelling. This will reduce it as well as help with the pain.” He takes Tim’s hand and pours the pills into his palm.

Tim swallows them with a sip of water. “Okay,” he says. “Thank you.”^^

Wait! Didn't Tim take some this morning also? Did he just forget?

I'm glad he's going to see Leslie. Especially since he hasn't seen a doctor in years it seems.

Awe. Jason and Dick both gave Tim piggyback rides. He deserves them. Now Bruce just needs to carry Tim.

I adore how Tim just wonders if the photos have the Justice League in them as he goes into Bruce's bathroom. The bathroom has to be huge! It's got to be the size of a room. At least it seems that way.

Bruce explaining what he is doing is great. Tim might think Bruce is doing it only to humor Tim but it's because no one knows how Tim will react, it gives Tim something to focus on, and even if I knew what they were doing, I want to be told. Besides I bet you Bruce does it to Dick and Jason all the time. Same as with Tim, it gives them something to focus on besides their pain.

Distraction from the pain is exactly what Tim needs and talking about Ace in his own train makes me smile. Especially when Bruce says they need to get Alfred's permission, not his. Alfred's in charge. Bruce is just the figure head.

^^ “Boo hoo, trust fund baby,” Jason retorts.

Without looking up, Bruce remarks, “You know, you probably wouldn’t have gotten so dirty if you hadn’t decided to do the worm in the dirt.”

Jason opens his mouth to say something, but Bruce quickly adds, “Please don’t subject me to hearing my children make jokes about Dick being dirty.”

“Do you know how many tabloid covers I’ve seen speculating about your love life?” Scoffing, Jason throws his arms in the air. “Too damn many, that’s what.”^^

Jason, you are a trust fund baby also.

Oh, Ra. Well y'all are certainly distracting Tim. Even if he is getting a little bit anxious.

^^ Some of the tension leaves Tim’s shoulders, but he doesn’t bother to fix his posture. It feels better, safer, when he’s curled a little bit into himself. Bruce hums and wordlessly continues bandaging Tim’s other hand. The next few minutes pass in silence as Bruce ties off the bandage on Tim’s hand and begins working on his knee. He moves quickly, efficiently, like he’s done this before. Then again, Bruce probably has lots of experience with patching up his own wounds.

At last, Bruce finishes wrapping Tim’s knee and gives his calf a light pat. “There, you’re all done.” He announces, taking a step away from Tim.^^

Thank you Bruce for seeing how Tim was feeling and calming his brothers down. You're a great dad right now.

(I know, I know they aren't brothers yet but they are acting like ones.)

^^ Bruce nods and turns to Tim. “I’m going to carry you down to the car, okay?”

He stares at Tim and it takes a long minute for Tim to realize that he’s waiting for Tim to respond. “Sure, okay,” he says. That was… weird.

Only then does Bruce step forward and slide one arm under his knees while the other wraps under his arms. Bruce effortlessly picks Tim up and strides out of the bathroom.^^

Thank you! I was hoping Bruce would get to carry Tim and he is.

Tim, you are worrying your family but they will be there for you. I'm glad they all are going to Leslie's. Well except Alfred but he's probably making sure everything is good for Tim to stay besides the room. (Which is going to become Tim's room correct? Or will he move closer to Jason later on?)

Bruce is such a dad ordering now ruff housing and seatbelts.

Chapter 6)

From the summary of the chapter, it looks like Tim is coming home to the Manor. Which is good even if Tim doesn't think so.

I love Leslie being the family doctor and Bruce just putting on a cap and sunglasses as disguise. He can't be seen in Crime Alley but his sons can? Weird.

Dick being the one who checks Tim in makes me grin. Bruce probably knows a lot about Tim already but he has to act like he doesn't and Dick knows more because of hanging out with Tim. That and to probably protect himself.

Bruce carrying Tim makes me smile. It's like he can't get enough of it but he's also not doing it without permission. The way he wraps the blanket around Tim....it's like Bruce is hugging him as Tim gets looked over.

^^ “I was told that you injured your ankle,” she says as she takes a clipboard out of a drawer. “I’m going to take a look at that, but first I’ll need to gather some baseline health information.”

“Okay.” Tim picks at the edge of the bandage on his hands instead of looking up at her.

“I’m going to listen to your heart and lungs first to make sure that everything is functioning properly, okay?” Dr. Thompkins walks over to Tim and pulls out a stethoscope. “It has to go under your shirt and it’s going to be a little cold,” she warns.^^

Leslie is literally starting from the beginning because she does with all new patients and she has to make sure she is getting everything done correctly for future use and the case for Bruce to take Tim home with him and keep him.

^^ Dr. Thompkins looks through something in her clipboard. “All right. Now that we’ve gotten through all of the general check-up items, let’s talk about your ankle. First things first: what happened?”

“Fell down the stairs,” Tim explains. “My ankle buckled and I fell on my face. That’s how I got the scrapes, too.”

Her gaze flits to the bandages on his hands and knee. “Bruce already took care of those for you?”

“Yeah, he rewrapped them and everything.”

“Hmmm.” Dr. Thompkins writes something down on her clipboard. “All right. When did the injury occur?”

Tim shrugs. “Last night. I thought it wasn’t a big deal, so I went to sleep.”^^

Tim, Tim, Tim. You need to stop lying. They both have an idea you are. So please stop. Tell the truth. Please.

^^ Dr. Thompkins nods. “Oh, Chile sounds fun. I’ve never been. Do you know when they’re getting back?”

They’re approaching dangerous waters. Tim takes his nervousness and shoves it down, down, down. He swallows his fear and lets it sit in his stomach like a rock. “Later this month.”

“Do you have an exact date?”

“They haven’t scheduled their flight yet,” Tim says in lieu of actually answering her question. He’s well aware of Bruce’s eyes on him as he silently watches the exchange.

“And who’s watching you while they’re gone?” Dr. Thompkin’s voice remains frustratingly calm.

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Our maid, Mrs. Mac.”

“Where was she today?”

“Today’s her day off,” he replies, omitting the fact that she also has Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday off as well.

“Hmmm. When does she usually work?”

Tim tilts his head, regarding her. He thinks of his mother, her eyes as cool and unyielding as steel, toppling businessmen with poisoned words and a smile as sharp as a knife.

He takes the pain in his heart, sharp like shards of glass, and lets it slip into his words. Let him be cold, let him be unyielding. Let his raw, bleeding heart freeze over until it’s as cool as ice.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, Dr. Thompkins, but you seem to be implying that my parents were unable to raise me to be a functional human being. I can assure you that is not the case.” He smiles, leans forward. “Whatever you’re looking for, you won’t find it.”

Dr. Thompkins raises an eyebrow and stares him down. Tim meets her gaze evenly, but she doesn’t flinch.^^

Tim, you are an idiot. A lovable one but still an idiot. She's asking questions because you are young and alone. Which you should not be.

^^ Leslie’s shoulders are tense as she leads Bruce into her office, shutting the door behind them. He doesn’t usually drop by during the day-- it feels different in the daylight. Fewer shadows, more peeling paint. How Leslie is able to hold her clinic and every person that passes through it together with her bare hands, he’ll never understand.

“Sit,” Leslie orders, gesturing at the worn leather chair sitting across from her desk.

Contrary to popular opinion, Bruce does actually have a sense of self-preservation. He sits..^^

Oh, different point of view. Leslie is on a war path. Bruce is also. I'm glad the two older boys came along so Tim is distracted as Leslie and Bruce talk.

^^ “The floor in his house wouldn’t have been enough to tear up his skin enough. The stairs outside his house could’ve done it, but Dick and Jason didn’t see any traces of blood. I think he fell onto something rough, possible concrete.” Bruce pauses and weighs his next words. “He would’ve had to be moving quickly to fall hard enough to skin himself like that.”^^

So Tim didn't leave any blood on the door.

^^ He shrugs and pushes the mental image of Tim fleeing from some unknown terror out of his head. “It’s a possibility.”

“Okay.” Leslie closes her eyes briefly. “He mentioned his parents’ flights. Did you check them?”

“They’re scheduled to fly out of Brazil and arrive in Gotham during the afternoon of October 25th.”

“And Tim doesn’t know,” Leslie says softly, pinching the bridge of her nose as if to ward off an impending headache.^^

Sorry to disappoint you Bruce but Tim was fleeing from a van. So not really unknown but unknown enough.

Shit, the Drakes really are annoying. Not telling Tim? They probably won't say anything until they get home.

^^ He frowns and thinks back to what Jason told him earlier that day. “Tim doesn’t like anyone helping him with his homework. He acts like-- like he has to prove himself. When we ask him to choose something like food or an activity, he always says that he doesn’t mind and that he doesn’t want to impose. It’s like he’s not used to having an opinion. He’s nervous around me too, more so than around Jason or Dick."^^

That is because of Jack. I'm surprised Leslie isn't sending the report in. I guess they don't have enough evidence. At least Tim will be with Bruce, Alfred, Dick, and Jason.

^^ Tim smiles, but it’s a little forced. They mean well, he knows that, but Tim would really like to be alone in a room for a while. He’s been around more noise today than he has for the past week and he kind of wants to scream.^^

Poor Tim. He's not used to being around a lot of people. School is different. I'm glad the others seem to understand that he needs time and space and are giving it to him.

^^ He ducks into his room and lets out a sigh of relief as the door closes behind him. Finally. Hobbling over to the bed, Tim carefully rests his crutches against the headboard before he flops back onto the bed. As much as he’d like to take a nap like he told Jason and Dick, he does actually have things to do.^^

Sleep boy! Youy parents will probably get hold of Bruce first, I'm hoping. Though I pray they won't take it out on you but they probably will make it seem like your fault.

Yes! I'm glad you slept but that fall had to hurt.

^^ Jason jabs the button for the first floor. “It’s so fuckin’ good, man. He taught me how to make it but I can never get it quite like his, you know?”^^

Jason, you are going to get caught cursing. Bad boy.

Ah, so Dick is working again. He should just move back home. I mean how many minutes would it take him to get to work and back? Love Jason's explanation on their proper goodbye. Like he didn't cry the first time Bruce left for a day or so without him. I'm sorry, nearly cry.

^^ Tim frowns, confused. “...isn’t Blüdhaven only a three hour drive away?”

“Yeah, but Dick is nineteen and living on his own. Plus, Bruce and Alfred are secretly worrywarts and big ol’ softies,” Jason blithely informs him. “Dick can take care of himself, but it won’t stop everyone else from fussing over him.”^^

Bludhaven is three hours away? I thought they were closer than that? Then again Wayne Manor is technically outside of Gotham, or is it? Where exactly is Bristol (?) compared to the city?

^^ “You’ve already hugged me,” Tim points out and hopes that he doesn’t look too excited at the prospect of another hug. He wouldn’t want the Waynes to think that he’s weird, or anything.^^

It's Dick. Dick gives out hugs like they're going out of style soon. Especially to family. So yes, enjoy your big brother hugs Tim. I would if I got one from Dick. Heck, I enjoy hugs from the whole family.

Tim's in the family chat! I want Ace pics now, please ans thank you.

Now what were you researching that you needed to know about knives Tim? Of course Jason sleeps through his alarm. He's tired from running around Gotham. Tim never had anyone to wake him so he isn't like Jason and Dick, who was probably like Jason until he woke up.

^^ “Sorry for waking you,” Bruce whispers through the narrowly opened door. “I’m just checking in on all of you.” Translation: he just got back from patrol and wanted to make sure that nobody died in their sleep while he was away.^^

Tim, you really aren't helping me think you're Jack's son thinking this...also, you cant sleep because you're used to running around Gotham. I wonder how Bruce stays awake during the day? Cat naps?

^^ Time blurs into an incoherent mass of grays and deep blues, the same color as the shadows around his room. Eventually-- finally-- Tim falls asleep.^^

Bet you it is around 3 or 4 am when he fell asleep. So if Tim is lucky he'll get about 3 hours of sleep. Which isn't good but at least he slept.

Chapter 7)

^^ As usual, Tim’s alarm blasts the sound of distressingly cheerful chimes at seven in the morning.

Groaning, Tim rolls over and hits the “stop” button on his phone’s screen. He takes a moment to blink at the ceiling above him before he remembers the events of the previous day. Sprained ankle. Wayne Manor. Right. He drags himself out of bed and uses his crutches to hobble over to the bathroom so he can shower before facing the horrors of Gotham Academy.^^

Oof. Two hours it seems. I wonder how many hours he usually gets? Heck, I wonder how many hours any of them get? Especially Alfred who is probably up way before anyone else.

Bruce, no! Why are you giving Tim coffee?!!? Alfred, why are you letting him?!?! Why do I have a feeling Bruce is the start of Tim's addiction?

Wait, you let him have it because he's a guest? You do know Jason's going to grab a full cup...you are bad Bruce. Bad.

LoL I love that Bruce literally made it a rule about the music in the car. He had to otherwise his kids will fight about the music Everytime they are in a car. Good job Bruce.

^^ School is school: occasionally interesting, but mostly boring. Jason carries Tim’s backpack for him between classes. Tim goes to the debate team’s biweekly meeting during lunch and silently looks through that week’s assigned debate reading. The other students make a few attempts to talk to him, but for the most part, they’re too involved in their discussion of which Ivy League colleges consider them legacies to try to rope him in.^^

This is making me think they don't debate at all. They all just joined to have credit on their applications, like the Drakes made Tim.

Tim, Bruce just wanted to pick you two up. Parents do want to spend time with their kids.

Jason, I swear your answers would make people think. I'm surprised Alfred lets them keep the chips and other snacks in the house. He also knows where the hiding spots are.

^^ This also seems to be the wrong answer. Bruce sighs and Tim watches him carefully, but Bruce only shakes his head. “Okay, let’s reset. What I mean to say is maybe you should take a break. Dinner is almost ready. After dinner, how about you work for an hour and then take time to relax?”

Tim blinks at him. “What?”

“You’ve been working nonstop since we got back from school,” Jason pipes in from his spot on the floor next to Ace. His nest of papers disappeared into his backpack a while ago.

“Yeah, because I have a lot of homework.” What is Bruce trying to say?

Bruce crosses the room and sits across from Tim on the couch. “How much of it is due tomorrow?”

“I’ve already completed everything due tomorrow, but I have a few papers and long-term projects that I want to work on.” Tim untucks his legs from under himself so he’s sitting properly. Bruce probably hates it when people put their feet on the furniture.^^

Bruce is trying to get you to relax Tim. You need to be a kid, not an adult. The feet thing he's used to. His sons do it all the time.

^^ Ace’s tail thumps against the floor and Bruce leans over to scratch him behind his ears. “Good. Oh, and Tim, I wanted to let you know that I was able to get in touch with your parents this afternoon. They agreed to let you stay here until they return.”

Jealousy curls in Tim’s stomach before he can stop it. Why did his parents talk to Bruce but not Tim? Maybe they were busy; they probably have a lot of work to do. Yes, that must be it. “Oh, thanks for letting me know,” Tim replies.^^

Stupid Drakes. They're going to blame this somehow on Tim, I know it. Even though he did everything he could to get hold of them.

I love Jim just emailing the Shadow to make sure he's okay. It's such a nice thing to do.

Tim fits right in with his family. The way they all include him somehow but also let him relax is great.

^^ To: Timothy Jackson Drake <tjdrake@drake.com>

From: Janet Lynn Drake <jldrake@drake.com>

October 18th, 12:01 AM (8 hours ago)

Subject: Re: Change of plan

Thank you, sweetie. Good luck with your sprained ankle and make sure to be a good guest for the Waynes.

We’ll be back in a week. In the meantime, look at these gorgeous photos that I took when we were in the Andes!

Love,

Mom

Attached:

Andes Santiago view 1.jpg

Andes Santiago view 2.jpg

Andes alpaca.jpg

Andes cloud forests.jpg

To: Janet Lynn Drake <jldrake@drake.com>

From: Timothy Jackson Drake <tjdrake@drake.com>

October 18th, 8:14 AM (just now)

Subject: Re: Change of plan

Hi Mom,

Those pictures are lovely; the Andes must be beautiful. I would love to see more pictures if you have them. You and Dad will have to tell me all about your trip once you’re home!

Are you in Brazil now? How is it?

Do you have a timeframe for when you’ll return? I know that you and Dad must be tired from how busy you’ve been and I’d love to do something special to mark your return.

I can’t wait for you to come home. I love and miss you both!

Sincerely,

Tim^^

Wait, Tim emailed and called them on the 7th but it took until the 18th for them to even email him? They talked to Bruce but can't even tell their own kid anything until it's like 11 days later.

^^ Tim watches, bewildered, as their heartwarming reunion quickly devolves into a lighthearted pillow fight. They don’t use any fancy fighting moves that they couldn’t be expected to know, but Dick is unnervingly good at somersaulting away from Jason’s pillow. The pillow fight ends with them both on the floor as Dick does something with his legs to pin Jason’s arms.

“It’s over, Anakin. I have the high ground,” Dick announces dramatically. He gives Jason one final whack in the face with a pillow before releasing him. Jason sticks out his tongue at Dick before crossing the room to wrap Tim in a hug.

Still tense from the fight, Tim leans into Jason’s hug and closes his eyes. Why are all of the Waynes so good at hugging?^^

You'll get used to it Tim. You just need to be shown that not every reunion ,etx is going to have someone get hurt or be angry.

Blame the hugging on Dick. Dick is a tactical person and Bruce and Alfred learned to adapt and then just kept it up with Jason.

^^ have a busy day planned,” Alfred says as he carefully watches Tim chop kale. “Most slow cooker recipes only require a few minutes of preparation and can be left unsupervised for eight to ten hours.”

“That sounds nice,” Tim says as he carefully scoops the chopped kale into a bowl. “I could start dinner and still not be late to school.”

Alfred’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Precisely. I shall send you the recipe for this kale and lentil soup. It’s one of Master Bruce’s favorites. It’s also excellent for growing children, as kale contains lots of calcium and iron.”

“Huh,” Tim says as he measures out the dried lentils. “Well, it looks good already.”

“Just wait until it’s done cooking, Master Tim. It will be delicious. Now, would you mind peeling these carrots for me? I need to check on the sourdough.”^^

Alfred's teaching his youngest grandson how to cook and it is making me smile. Tim, you won't have to use this recipe, hopefully, for a long time. It's for when your at college or in your own apartment, not now. Still good to know though.

^^ “He wouldn’t have to see your pictures. I mean, I think all of us would love to see your work, but we wouldn’t have to.” Jason pauses, eyes narrowing. “You don’t have to be scared of Bruce or hide stuff from him, you know. He’s not going to stop you from taking photos or judge you or anything. If anything, he’ll read a bunch of articles on photography and then buy you an obnoxious amount of equipment.”

A soft huff of laughter escapes from Tim before he can stifle it. “I’m not hiding anything,” he defends. “It’s just that I don’t usually show my photos to other people.”

There’s a long pause as Jason watches him continue to clean the camera. At last, he says, “I could mention it to him if you don’t want to tell him. I think he’d be thrilled, honestly. It’s a cool hobby and I’m sure that you’re really good at it. None of us will go snooping around for your photos if you don’t want us to.”

Tim shrugs. “If you want,” he says.

Jason leans forward, eyes bright. “So you want me to tell him?”

If he says yes, then he’ll hand Bruce a way to link Tim to Gotham’s Shadow. If he says no, then he’ll look suspicious and Bruce might start sniffing around more. It feels like there’s no right answer. Looks like Tim will have to pick his poison.

“Sure,” he replies. “I don’t mind either way.”

“All right,” Jason says, watching him carefully. “It looks like you’re busy, so-- see you later?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as Jason stands up and walks out of his room. The door closes behind him with a quiet click, leaving Tim to continue cleaning his camera in peace^^

This whole section has me in love with it but this part especially. Jason saying Bruce would buy Tim photography stuff? Just because Tim is into it? Does Tim even realize that he's part of the family and this is Jason's way of telling him?

Bruce might not know your Gotham's Shadow yet Tim but he does know you need help. Yes, he might figure it out but I think it'll be good for you in the long run. That way you have backup in the future and your as safe as you can be which will be a relief for your family.

(Did Jason take a break from being Robin with Tim there or does he only go out in certain nights, which seems to be a fanon thing?)

^^ “I guess. I don’t take that until junior year, I think.” Tim half-shrugs and watches Bruce cautiously, waiting for his reaction. What does he want? Ever since Tim arrived at Wayne Manor, Bruce has routinely subjected him to questions about his activities. He’s still not entirely sure what Bruce wants to hear, but he’s usually satisfied after extracting a few inane details about Tim’s day. Bruce’s interrogations aren’t necessarily harmful, just confusing.^^

He's being a good and interactive parent Tim. Something guardians and parents are supposed to do. Which you aren't used to.

^^ It’s no big deal. They’re busy, so I guess they forget. Besides, they’ve got problems too and I can take care of myself,” Tim defends. “I can cook and clean up after myself. I can get to and from school. They even left me with one of their credit cards so I can buy whatever I need. I don’t need to be watched like a child.”

“Tim,” Bruce says patiently, “That may be true, but you shouldn’t have to take care of yourself like that. You’re thirteen, so you’re still legally a child. Just because you have financial resources doesn’t mean that you’re in a good situation.”

Tim frowns. “But my situation is good,” he snaps. “My parents are busy people. Between the two of them, they’re running an entire company and doing important archaeological research.”^^

^^ Tim fumes all the way over to the elevator and into his room. He angrily drops his backpack next to his desk and slides into his desk chair. Why can’t people just leave him alone?^^

Bruce points it out Tim. You are a child. A child should not have to take care of themselves. Adults are supposed to. I know it seems as if they are ganging up on you but they are worried. They want to help. Please let them help. Please.

Chapter 8)

Some email. I know they are going to be bad because of the warnings at the beginning but still...

The dinner sounds amazing. I hope at least Tim gets to enjoy it.

^^ Without any people in it, the manor feels like a ghost house. Tim turns on the living room lights and heads up the stairs. Bruce and Jason follow him. He tries to pretend like he doesn’t notice them looking around as they take in the house.

He nudges open his bedroom door and drops his school backpack next to his desk. “You can put my stuff down wherever.”

Bruce sets the duffel bag and crutches down next to Tim’s bed. Jason adds Tim’s night backpack to the pile before walking back into the hallway.

“I’m gonna put away the groceries,” he shouts over his shoulder.

“Thanks!” Tim calls back.

The room is quiet for a moment as Bruce glances around before his eyes settle on Tim. “I know that your parents are coming back tomorrow, but you know that you can call us at any time, right? The reason doesn’t matter. You can be sad or scared or injured or happy. And if you want one of us to come get you, we will. It can be the middle of the night and we’ll come. All right?”

Tim nods, chewing on the inside of his lip. “I know.” Not that he’ll need it, but the offer is nice.

Bruce watches him for a moment before nodding, seemingly satisfied. “Okay. I’m going to help Jason with the groceries.” He reaches out and pats Tim on the shoulder. Tim gives him a half smile before Bruce strides out of his room.^^

Of course they are looking around. They're looking for proof to get Bruce custody.

Thank you Bruce for reiterating that Tim can rely on you all. Here's hoping he actually does call. Even if it is not right away.

It took them until 10 pm to get home and they didn't tell Tim?!? He didn't even eat because he was waiting for them!

^^ Hand hovering over the doorknob of the front door, he hears one door click shut. He waits for a moment, but there’s no other sound. One door closing means that they’re sleeping in the same bedroom. Good; they’re probably not fighting right now. Smiling, Tim slips outside and starts hauling luggage inside.

Before he goes to bed, he makes sure to clear the table and load all of the dirty cooking dishes into the dishwasher. Tim grabs his backpack before he goes upstairs-- he doesn’t want to leave a mess in the living room, after all-- and heads up stairs.

He pauses for a moment, listening to the soft snores coming from behind his parents’ bedroom door, before he ducks into his room. It’s nice to hear the house sound alive for once.^^

Ugh, they are going to yell about Tim leaving their luggage down there aren't they?

Tim, your backpack is showing the house is lived in. It's not making a mess. Their luggage is making a bigger mess than you ever will.

You're so used to how lively Wayne Manor is now you didn't even realize what you thought, Tim.

I'm glad you can't go out into Gotham yet but I am also glad that you're at peace with riding your bike.

Uh oh. Stay safe Tim!

^^ At six-thirty, Janet sweeps through the front door, arms laden with takeout bags. “I bought us dinner from that Thai place you like,” she says, smiling.

It’s been years since Tim has eaten there, but he remembers their food being pretty good. “Thank you, Mom!” he chirps as he hobbles over to the cabinets to gather dishes to set the table with. Tim had hoped that they would be able to postpone last night’s dinner to today, but he doesn’t want to let the food his mother brought go to waste.^^

But your food can. That can wait, Tim. Have them enjoy the food you made! That can be dinner tomorrow.

I'm guessing the dinner went bad and got thrown out. Which sucks.

^^ At the end of his algebra class on Tuesday, his teacher passes out the tests that they took last week. Tim looks at the face-down paper on his desk, heart racing, before he steels himself and flips it over.

A bright red 82 stares back at him.

Eighty-two? His stomach does somersaults. It feels like something is squeezing his heart and filling his chest with lava. His skin is buzzing. Eighty-two is a B minus, not even a B.

The paper shakes in his hands, so Tim quickly stows it in his backpack before anyone can see his grade. Dizzy, he waits for his teacher to dismiss the class before he calmly walks to the bathroom and vomits into a toilet. He can faintly hear the muffled stampede as students rush to their various buses and chauffeurs.

Tim kneels on the cold tile floor and tries to control his breathing as he waits for the rush of students to die down. When it sounds like the main wave of students has left, he stands up, flushes the toilet, and washes his hands.^^

I would be happy with an 82. I hate when guardians and parents act like you need to be perfect. An 82 is great!

Tim needs a hug from his brothers now! It's going to be bad...I hope not but I know it will be.

^^ Numbly, he drops his backpack next to the front door and walks over. “What is it?” he asks as he takes a seat across from his mother and next to his father.

Jack slides a piece of paper across the table to him. It’s a print-out of his online grade report. This one is from his algebra class and displays the grade he received for each assignment. The most row containing the recent test is highlighted in glaring yellow.

“Notice anything?” his father asks mildly, eyes hard. He’s angry, Tim can tell. His shoulders are tense and he’s practically vibrating with it.

“I got an eighty-two on my algebra test,” Tim mumbles. His tongue feels too big and clumsy for his mouth.

“What was that?” Jack growls, leaning forward. “Repeat yourself. Louder, this time.”

“I got an eighty-two on my algebra test,” he repeats.

Janet watches him, eyes cool. “Tim,” she begins, “Do you know where these sorts of grades will get you?”

Tim swallows. “Not into the CEO’s office.”

She nods. “Exactly. These grades are unacceptable. You must not forget that your classmates will be your competition in the future. Everything-- your grades, comportment, everything-- can be used against you. We’re trying to prepare you for your future. If you continue like this, you’ll be a laughingstock. Build your armor now before you can be attacked for it later.” Seemingly done for now, Janet leans back in her chair.

“Right.” Tim nods. “Of course. I’m-- I’m sorry.”

“Your mother is right. And did you ever stop and think about how this will reflect on us?” Jack reaches out and slams his hand down on the highlighted 82. Tim flinches at the sound. The cursed number glares at Tim, yellow and garish, from the page. “You’re a Drake, Tim. What happens if, say, LexCorp finds out about this? They’re going to think that the future CEO of Drake Industries is weak and useless, and that will be like blood in the water.”

Absently, Tim notices moisture gathering in his eyes. He blinks, willing it away. “I’ll try harder next time. I’ll do better, I promise.”

Jack leans forward in his chair. “You’d better. Because you know what these grades are going to do for you? They’re going to--”^^

They can't even fucking call rhwie kid everyday but they can check his grades and get mad at him for not being perfect. B's will and are CEOs! Tim needs to understand that his parents are being assholes right now.

^^ Finally, he’s dismissed. Tim grabs his backpack and heads up to his room as quickly as he can with his foot still in the walking boot. The sound of his door closing behind him is a welcome relief. Tim lets his head drop for just a moment as he wills away a sob. Chest tight, he drags himself over to his desk and takes a seat. It would be best to avoid any more poor grades this week, so he opens up his algebra notes and starts studying where he went wrong.^^

You did nothing wrong Tim. Nothing! You shouldn't have had to apologize or even think you did something wrong.

^^ Tim focuses on his homework and tries to wait out the fight. Finally, someone-- Tim suspects that it’s his mother-- shouts something and there’s a loud clang downstairs. It doesn’t sound like something shattered, so he doubts that anything is broken. Good, that will make for less of a mess to clean up tomorrow.

Someone goes up the stairs and Tim recognizes his mother’s footsteps. They’re louder than usual; she must be angry. His guess is confirmed when she stalks down the hall and the door to his mother’s bedroom slams shut.

So they’re back to sleeping in separate bedrooms, then.

Algebraic equations blur as Tim’s eyes go unfocused. He hopes that the argument wasn’t over him. He’ll have to try harder next time if he wants them to stop fighting.^^

Why do you need to clean up their mess? They should do it. It's not your fault Tim. It isn't.

^^ Tonight, though, is Halloween. Every Gothamite knows that nothing good happens on Halloween, which is precisely why tonight is a good time for Gotham’s Shadow to reappear. There’s sure to be some sort of mischief going on that Commissioner Gordon will want to know about.^^

Lord please be careful Tim. Please. Something is going to happen and I don't think it will be good. I'm hoping I'm wrong though.

Scarecrow makes me mad and I'm sad for the kids. They just wanted one day to have fun and couldn't even get that.

^^ “I can’t believe the kind of nutcases in this city,” Jack says at breakfast the next morning. He gestures at the newspaper sitting in front of him and shakes his head. “It’s ridiculous. You’d think that Arkham would discipline the crazy out of them, but I guess not. They must be getting soft.”

Tim puts his now-empty cereal bowl in the dishwasher. “I’m going to head out. Don’t want to be late for school and all that.”

Sipping on her coffee, Janet barely glances up from her phone. Jack keeps talking animatedly, even as Tim grabs his bike helmet and slips out the door.^^

Jack sounds old school, like he want them to use electric shock and etc on them. I'm glad Tim got out of there safely. Hopefully he'll stay safe.

Chapter 9)

I'm scared for Tim just from the chapter summary. Here's hoping he goes to the Wayne's for help.

^^ Tim is pretty sure that he read something in the news about Batman and a few members of the Justice League fighting some killer robots in Star City earlier this week. And where Batman goes, so does Robin. At least Jason doesn’t look injured, so it seems more likely that his absences were due to him simply not being in Gotham rather than him suffering some terrible wound.^^

Not all the time since Bruce has been gone and Jason has stayed behind. Dick also. Especially if Bruce doesn't know what they are fighting which means keeping his sons safe and away from the danger.

^^ He nods contemplatively. “Good. And you’ve been doing the stretches that Dick showed you, right?”

“Yes, Mom,” Tim says, rolling his eyes.

Jason has the good grace to look slightly ashamed, but only slightly. “Sorry for mother henning you. We miss you over at the manor, Timbo.”^^

Love how Leslie gave him stretches but Tim listens to Dick more.

Let Jason mother hen toy, Tim. Let him!

^^ Tim sets down his algebra problems and hurries down the stairs-- there’s no sense in dilly dallying when his parents are in a mood. His parents are still in their work clothes and staring each other down in the kitchen.

“Set the table,” Jack orders without breaking eyes with Janet.

“What should I set it for?” Tim asks. “Do we need spoons, or--”

“I don’t care, just set the goddamn table!” His father snaps.

“Right, sorry.” Tim quickly carries a stack of plates and utensils over to the table. The sound of silverware clanging is loud in the otherwise quiet house. He doesn’t dare to risk glancing at his parents; at times like this, it’s best to avoid catching their eye.^^

Shit, Jack is in a mood. Why the fuck did they stay married if they take their marriage woes out on Tim who has no say in the marriage? He's just their son.

^^ His hands shake as he shoves his algebra homework into his backpack, but he leaves his laptop out since he doesn’t have any essays to work on. Shouldering his backpack, Tim heads back down the stairs.

Walking over to the kitchen table feels like he’s walking to his doom. Tim sets his backpack down next to his usual chair and sets his algebra practice problems in front of him. He sets his phone face down on the table too so he can double check his answers. Grabbing a pencil from his bag, he resumes working where he left off before dinner.^^

Why the whole backpack? The book I understand but the backpack? Especially to the living room.

Jason no! Tim no! Please don't. Please.

^^ “Hang on, Bruce is texting me,” Tim mumbles, frowning at his phone.

“Son,” his father growls, reaching for his phone. “We need to talk. Give me the phone.”

“What? No!” Frowning, Tim tries to twist away from his father’s grasping hands.

Jack looks pissed. Oh, Tim is so fucked. “I said to give me the damn phone!”

He grabs Tim’s upper arm and yanks him towards the head of the table. Tim hisses as his ribs collide with the edge of the table. Shock loosens his grip on his phone and Jack pries it out of his hand.

Before Tim can snatch his phone back, Jack stands up and glowers at him. “I’m trying to talk to you like an adult and all you do is ignore me and look at your damn phone!” he snaps.

“Dad…” Tim whispers. He can feel his heart pumping and his face is way too warm. His entire body is too warm, like he’s burning from within.

Jack turns and storms towards his office. Tim scrambles after him, unable to get his jaw to work properly. He freezes in the doorway as his father heads straight for his excavation kit and pulls out a hammer.

“How do you like this?” Jack snarls, raising the hammer. The screen is the first thing to shatter, but his dad keeps going. “You’re grounded and I’m taking away your phone privileges.”

Each strike of the hammer feels like a physical blow. His entire body is rushing, sinking, burning. He’s frozen in place, an unwilling witness as, piece by piece, his phone fractures into pieces.

When Jack finishes, he’s smiling triumphantly. Tim feels hollow, like someone scooped out his insides. Absently, he wonders if he would ring like a bell if someone hit him with a hammer.

“I won’t be dissed in my own house, son,” Jack says. His words sound very far away.

Tim nods. It’s all he can do. The rest of him is still frozen in place as he stares at the remains of his phone.

“Go finish your homework,” his father orders.

“Yes, Dad,” Tim says numbly.

Somehow, the command is enough to force his unwilling limbs to march back to the dining table. His body takes a seat, but Tim’s mind is still somewhere else, drifting. He feels unmoored. Everything is muffled like there’s a fine layer of snow between him and the world. It feels like he’s looking from the inside of a fishbowl, all smooth, impenetrable glass.

Tim stares at his homework until, mechanically, he picks up a pencil. He absently solves each equation, barely comprehending the numbers in front of him. Apparently it’s enough for his father, who doesn’t reemerge from the office.

Eventually, Jack stalks out of the office and up the stairs. Janet follows suit twenty minutes later, taking her book with her. She turns off the living room lights, leaving only the soft backlighting of the kitchen. Tim stays at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the numbers in the dim light, until his eyes begin to drift shut against his will. Only then does he finally peel himself from his seat, gather his papers, and numbly head upstairs.

The numbness echoes in him until he falls asleep. Even then, it sinks its claws into the fringes of his dreams, turning them gray and murky.

He dreams of sitting on a cool concrete rooftop, its cold permeating his entire body. He dreams of panicked trick-o-treaters running through the streets below as he sits on a rooftop, hidden and forgotten. He dreams of flickers of capes passing him by, of the hiss of grappling guns and delighted laughter fading into the distance.^^

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Damn you Jack! Damn you Janet!

Tim, please tell Jason the truth. Please.

^^ When he wakes in the morning, he still feels off. This time, he feels less like he’s controlling his body from inside a fishbowl and more like… feeling nothing at all. An all-encompassing numbness hugs his chest and nestles somewhere in the space between his ribs. Tim breathes deeply with one hand pressed to his heart. It’s still beating, but its pulse is faint.

He forces himself through his morning routine and his classes are more mind-numbing than usual. Tim shuffles into his usual corner of the library, hidden from the prying eyes of the librarians, and settles into a chair. It feels like he should do something, but what? He doesn’t feel like reading.

Tim ends up staring at the wall, mind blank, until something moves in a blur in front of him. He starts, flinching away from the motion and curling up. He stays like that, dark and safe, for a few seconds until he registers that someone is murmuring soothingly to him.

“Hey, it’s all right. It’s just Jason,” Jason whispers softly from somewhere nearby. “You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”

Slowly, Tim lifts his head up from where he’s pressed against his knees. “Hey,” he says, voice cracking. “Sorry. I’m fine.”

Jason wordlessly spreads his arms, a silent question. Tim leans forward until he can press his face into Jason’s shoulder as the other boy wraps him in a hug.  

“Shhhh, it’s okay. You’re okay,” Jason murmurs as he rubs Tim’s back.

A few heartbeats pass and Tim finally pulls away. Jason stands up and takes the seat next to Tim. “Feeling better?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Tim says hoarsely. “Sorry. I-- didn’t sleep well. Nightmares.” It’s a bad lie and he knows it.

“Are you okay?” Jason asks, brow furrowed. “I just-- you didn’t respond to any of our texts last night. Bruce and I were getting worried.”

Tim shrugs half-heartedly. “Broke my phone.”^^

Jason is so telling Bruce. Especially since he knows you didn't break your phone and how scared you are right now.

^^ He frowns. “You failed a test this week. I really don’t think--”

“But I’ve studied really hard since then and--”

Jack cuts him off, eyes hard. “Don’t interrupt me. Bad grades mean no going out. That’s a rule, son. You--”

Tim interrupts, clenching his hands into fists. “Come on, Dad, they invited me and everything--”

His father’s hand moves and Tim flinches instinctually before the side of his face flares in pain. It takes him a moment longer to process the harsh sound of skin hitting skin. The slap hurts fiercely. Tim raises a hand to his stinging cheek and stares at his father, eyes watering.

“You need to learn how to follow the rules,” Jack says harshly. “I’m doing this for you, Tim. You’ll thank me someday. I can’t just let you run around when your grades are slipping.” He stands up and Tim takes a step back, eyes burning.

Wisely, he keeps his big mouth shut. His face hurts. He should’ve known that asking about this now would be a bad idea. He should’ve known--

His father turns and marches up the stairs, fuming. Tim watches him, rooted in place.

A hand lands on his shoulder and Tim jumps. “Your father is right, you know,” Janet says calmly. “We’re only trying to help, but you keep sabotaging your grades.”

Tim nods weakly. His cheek is on fire and his face is on fire and his heart is burning. He’s melting.

“Come on, Tim,” she orders, shoving him none-too-gently towards the stairs. Tim stumbles forwards, but he’s having trouble getting his legs to work. All he wants to do is hide in a hole somewhere, preferably for the next twenty years or so.

Frowning, Janet grabs his arm. “I said come on,” she hisses, fingers digging into his arm. She yanks on his arm until he finally shuffles after her, head bowed.

 Janet mercilessly tugs him up the stairs and down the hall to his room, her hand like an iron vise. It might as well be wrapped along his lungs because it feels like he can’t breathe. From inside his room, there’s the sound of crashing. Tim’s heart plummets as Jack steps out, dragging Tim’s television along with him.^^

What the fuck? A 98 /89 is not a failing grade! What the fuck is up with these two?!?

Plus taking everything away because he talked back and 'failed'? Fuck them!

I hope to Ra they go to jail and get what they deserve.

^^ Besides, Tim just isn’t feeling it. When he’s in Gotham, he’s closer to the stars than to anything else in his life. Tonight, he’s stuck on the ground, staring up at the insurmountable rooftops like a bird without wings.^^

Tim, tell Jason! Tell him!

Chapter 10)

^^ Tim spends most of Sunday sleeping as the bone-deep numbness morphs into exhaustion. He’s so tired and there’s not much for him to do except for studying, sleeping, and quickly hiding his laptop whenever he hears footsteps in the hallway.

Blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a shroud, Tim stares at his reflection in the mirror. The hit to his face didn’t bruise too badly. It’s a bit swollen, but at least the discoloration is enough that it could be covered with some good concealer. His arm, though, is another matter. The place where his mother grabbed him is marked by a deep blue and purple bruise. Tim can almost see the outline of her fingers. At least it’s only on his upper arm and it’s cold enough outside to justify him wearing long sleeves until it fades.

He leaves his room exactly twice. Once, he leaves to sneak a box of froot loops into his room. He always maintains a stash of nonperishable food in his room, but there’s no sense in depleting his hoard when he could still get food from the kitchen.  The second time he leaves is when his parents call him for dinner. Dinner is quiet and stilted, but Tim will happily take silence over screaming. He excuses himself as quickly as politely possible and shuffles back upstairs so he can collapse into the sweet embrace of his bed.^^

Oh, I'm hoping, and it certainly seems like it will happen, Jason finds out and Tim let's him know everything. Everything.

It'll hurt but also get Tim home sooner to his dad, brothers, and grandfather.

^^ Monday rolls around, but he doesn’t feel much better. Tim goes through the motions of forcing himself to roll out of bed and bike to school anyways. He covers the light bruising on his face with a judicious application of concealer. (Thank god for makeup tutorials on YouTube; they’ve been helping him cover the bruises from his nights out in Gotham for years.)

He has his usual debate team meeting during lunch, so he doesn’t run into Jason. School goes as usual and Tim bikes back home.^^

Damnit! Here I was hoping Jason would see him.

^^ Something about the smile on Jack’s face feels off and Tim doesn’t like it. He steels himself as Jack stands up and strides over to him. Jack lifts a hand and Tim tenses, but he only takes Tim’s hand and… hands him a new phone?^^

^^ They walk up the stairs together and head over to Tim’s room. The first thing Tim notices is the new television on his wall. It’s kind of unnecessarily large. There’s what looks like a wii console under it and a stack of video games.

“Do you like your new TV?” Jack asks, looking hopeful.

Tim forces a smile. “I love it! Thank you.”

“We got you a bunch of games too. Oh! We also bought a new camera for you.” Jack pats a compact digital camera sitting on Tim’s desk. Already, Tim can tell that it doesn’t have the same long-range zoom as his old camera. “It’s brand new. We got you a nice tripod for it too.”

“Oh, wow, thanks! I’ve never used a tripod before,” Tim says. The tripod would probably hold him back when he’s running through Gotham, but he doesn’t mention that little detail.

Jack smiles. “We’ve also increased the monthly spending limit on your debit card from ten thousand per month to twenty thousand. If you ever need more, just use our card instead of yours.”^^

This is creeping me out....are they trying to buy his silence? Because it sure seems like it.

Damn, I hope Tim can get his old camera back.

^^ Tim turns on his new phone and links it to his Drake Industries account. Seconds later, it begins downloading his contacts, messages, and photos from his account. Looks like he has a bunch of missed messages from Jason and Dick. He flips through them, but it’s just them suggesting which movies to watch.

On a whim, Tim starts typing a message to Jason and Dick.

Chat: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and 1 other person

Tim [11/05, 3:41 PM]: Do you know if clones retain all of the memories of the original person, or would it take special technology to do that?

Tim [11/05, 3:41 PM]: Asking for a friend.

Jason [11/05, 3:42 PM]: ????????

Jason [11/05, 3:42 PM]: what the fuck?

Dick [11/05, 3:44 PM]: TIM YOU HAVE A PHONE AGAIN!!

Tim [11/05, 3:45 PM]: My parents got me a new phone.

Tim [11/05, 3:46 PM]: I’m worried that they might have been replaced by clones or something. They’re acting really weird.

Dick [11/05, 3:47 PM]: what do u mean by weird

Jason [11/05, 3:47 PM]: weird how?

Jason [11/05, 3:47 PM]: jinx

Jason [11/05, 3:47 PM]: you owe me a soda

Dick [11/05, 3:48 PM]: fuck u jay

Dick [11/05, 3:48 PM]: ok but tim, what u mean by weird

Dick [11/05, 3:49 PM]: do u need help?????

Tim [11/05, 3:49 PM]: I’m fine, don’t worry.^^

Tim...you just worried your brothers even more.

^^ Tim [11/05, 3:53 PM]: They bought me a ton of video games out of the blue. I think they got me Fortnite. Who even plays that anymore??

Jason [11/05, 3:54 PM]: they got you fortnite?? HAHAHAHA oh my god

Dick [11/05, 3:55 PM]: do kids not play fortnight anymore???????

Tim [11/05, 3:57 PM]: 1) I’m not a kid. 2) No, they do not.

Dick [11/05, 3:57 PM]: wow i feel old

Jason [11/05, 3:58 PM]: you are old

Dick [11/05, 4:00 PM]: thx im really feeling the love 2night

Jason sent 1 picture

Tim opens the picture and laughs. It’s of Jason sticking out his tongue while he flips off the camera.

Dick [11/05, 4:02 PM]: idk much about clones’ memories but i will srsly fight ur parents clones if u need me to

Jason [11/05, 4:03 PM]: wait do your parents not randomly buy you stuff?? they’re rich

Dick [11/05, 4:03 PM]: ooooo jay has a point

Oh no. Abort mission.

Tim [11/05, 4:04 PM]: They buy me plenty of stuff, guys. Like you said, they’re rich.

Tim [11/05, 4:04 PM]: Nevemind, forget I said anything.^^

Case in point.

^^ “Listen, just forget that I said anything about clones or whatever,” Tim sighs, leaning back into the uncomfortable wooden library chair. “Like I told you, it’s probably nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing,” Jason shoots back. “Listen, if your parents are acting weird--”

“Jason, it’s fine.” He throws an arm over his eyes before realizing that his white sleeve is perilously close to the concealer covering the bruise on his face. Primer, setting powder, and setting spray might not be enough to keep the concealer from staining the fabric. Tim pulls his arm back, but he doesn’t see any concealer marks on his sleeve. Good, he doesn’t need anyone asking more questions right now, let alone Jason and the rest of the Waynes.^^

To late Tim. Way to late.

^^ For the rest of the week, Tim makes sure to be as polite as possible. He minds his posture and practices his company manners at dinner. His parents seem relatively pleased, but Tim can’t help but wonder what he’s missing. He has to be missing something. It feels like he’s playing whack-a-mole with his parents’ expectations.^^

I think they are leaving again.

^^ His guidance counselor-- Mr. Williams-- beckons for Tim to come in. “Hi, Tim. You can take a seat wherever you’d like. Ms. Fletcher has some questions for you. I’ll let you both get to it-- if you need me, I’ll be in Ms. Rivera’s office next door.” He stands up and leaves, closing the office door behind himself with a click.

Tim sits down in the seat next to the mystery woman who is apparently Ms. Fletcher. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, extending a hand to shake.

She shakes his hand and smiles. “Hi, I’m Mary Fletcher and I’m a part of New Jersey’s department of children and families. Is it all right if I record our interview?”

“That’s fine with me.” He sets his backpack down on the floor next to the chair.

Ms. Fletcher nods and takes a slim device out of her pocket. After she hits the record button, she leans back in her chair. “I’m Mary Fletcher and I’m interviewing Tim Drake on Thursday, November eighth for the department of children and families.”

“The department of children and families… does that mean that you’re part of CPS?” Tim tilts his head and guides his face into a confused frown. Hopefully his use of CPS instead of the New Jersey-specific CPP will throw her off.^^

Yes, yes, yes! Thank you Leslie! Thank you Bruce! Now please tell the truth Tim. Please.

Wait...oooh! They were trying to buy his silence! Damn the Drakes!

^^ He shrugs. “If I get a bad grade on a test because I was texting instead of studying, they’ll take away my phone for a while so I can actually study.” There, that’s relatively close to the truth. “If I ever get really upset over something and I start getting way too angry, they’ll send me to my room to cool down.”^^

I'm liking the CPS lady. She's a badass and seems like she really wants to help the children out. Instead of only pretending to. Bruce made sure she was a good one, didn't he?

^^ A smile slides easily onto his face, but that speaks more to a great deal of practice rather than any amount of sincerity. “Of course!” he replies, as if the answer was obvious. “My parents love me and are fortunate enough to have more than enough financial resources to be able to provide for me. I’m really very lucky to be in this situation.”

“I’m glad to hear it, honey. You’re a good kid, Tim.” Ms. Fletcher smiles back at him. “Well, I think we can start wrapping things up here.”^^

She got enough. Tim knows she did, she knows she did, anyone with a brain knows she did. No wonder why Tim threw up again. Baby boy needs love and care.

Edit: Okay, I still like her but rereading makes me wonder if the Drakes were the ones who called CPS now. Should I not like her?

^^ “If you’re doing as well in school as you did with this, then you must be at the top of your class,” he remarks. “Speaking of, how is school? Did anything interesting happen today?” There’s a gleam in his eye that Tim isn’t quite sure what to do with, so he defaults to being smiling and polite.

“School was good,” he replies. “There weren’t any quizzes or tests today.”

Nodding thoughtfully, his dad keeps smiling. “I see. Well, keep working hard,” he says, and lets the matter drop.^^

Oh, thank you for not lying but not outright saying you got a visit Tim. Thank you. You just saved yourself from more hurt.

^^ As he pours himself a bowl of cereal, Tim dimly realizes that he forgot to ask where his parents were going or when they would be back.^^

They aren't coming back are they? It seemed like a lot of luggage...

^^ His new camera isn’t nearly as good at his old one, but the docks are relatively quiet by Gotham’s standards. Tim spots a few low-level drug dealers but they aren’t the source of the problem so he leaves them alone. He mostly spends his time revelling in how the cold from the metal shipping containers seeps into his stomach and the feeling of the sea breeze on his face. The docks aren’t as visually pretty as the rest of the city, but Tim appreciates how the reflections of the streetlights dance in the waves.

At one in the morning, he calls it a night and heads home. Exhausted, Tim collapses into bed and thinks of nothing for a long, long time.^^

What happened to his old camera? Did they take it with them? Or did Tim not think to get it?

Sleep Tim. You're going to need it because a talk is coming. A talk that is needed.

^^ Tim stares at himself in the mirror. The seemingly perpetual bags under his eyes look much better and the bruise on his face has faded to an ugly yellow and green. It’s noticeable enough that he’ll need to keep covering it with concealer for a while, but it’s not too bad. The bruise on his arm, however, is a different story. It’s still blue and definitely hand-shaped. Ugh.^^

Good luck because it isn't going to work but I'll still wish you luck.

^^ Sighing, Tim throws an arm over his face. Normally, he doesn’t mind hanging out with Dick and Jason. He enjoys it, even. But right now, it feels like there’s ice spreading through his bones, numbing him. Tim is made of skin and flesh and bone and a terrible emptiness lurking in the space between his ribs. He’s hollow, but his limbs may as well be made of lead.

Jason [11/10, 2:42 PM]: what are you doing rn? you should come over.

Jason [11/10, 2:42 PM]: we can talk alfred into making us cookies.

He sets down his phone and throws an arm over his eyes. Doing anything other than laying on his bed sounds like literal torture. Maybe he should take a nap.

Tim is so, so tired.^^

Tim, baby boy, I just want to hug you do bad. You need it.

^^ “Oh, good. We’ve been trying to call you and I suppose I panicked a little when the boys said that your parents weren’t home.” Bruce admits.

“Sorry,” Tim says after a moment. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“It’s all right, Tim. We’re just glad that you’re okay.” Bruce says gently. There’s the sound of what’s likely Dick and Jason squabbling in the background. Bruce pauses as if listening to someone and then adds, “Would you like to come over for dinner?”

“Make sure to ask if he wants to have a sleepover!” Jason calls, though his voice is muffled.

“Jason is asking if you want to have a sleepover. Dick is nodding,” Bruce adds, amusement coloring his voice.

Tim picks at a loose thread on his sheets. “I don’t want to impose….”

“Tim, you’re never an imposition,” Bruce says warmly. “You’re more than welcome to stay over any time you like.”

He pulls at the loose thread as he considers the offer. “Okay,” he says at last. “I’ll sleep over tonight.”^^

Sleepover forever!

Bruce is not letting you in your house by yourself and you know it young man. So good job on saying yes.

^^ Bruce hangs up and Tim stares at his phone for a moment before sighing. Time to pack, he supposes. First, he should throw on a sweatshirt to hide the bruise on his arm. Next, some jeans instead of his old sweatpants. He packs quickly-- he’s only staying over for one night, after all-- before hurrying into the bathroom to carefully cover up his bruise with makeup.

His setting spray has only just dried when there’s a knock on the front door. Tim shoves his makeup and makeup remover into his backpack before he hurries down the stairs.^^

You think it's only one night. Also, Jason knows about one bruise already and i know Bruce knows so give up and tell them. You won't be able to hide them.

^^ “A little tired, but I’ll manage. I spent most of the morning playing with Ace and keeping Dick from accidentally breaking any more furniture. Then I dealt with some WE business and collaborated with Jason to hide snacks from Alfred,” Bruce replies. “He almost certainly knows that we’ve snuck junk food into the house and is merely humoring us, but trying to sneak past him is part of the fun.”^^

Of course taking care of Dick is a full time job even with him not in the house. How does he manage on his own? He literally eats whatever Alfred packs him. I bet he barely tries the recipes either.

Alfred knows. It's not most certainly, it's certainly, Bruce. He lets you sneak past him. It's fun for him also.

^^ A few minutes later, Tim drops off his things in the guest room that he stayed in last time. Other than the freshly made bed, the room looks largely the same. Afterwards, Bruce walks Tim over to his bedroom, where Dick and Jason are sprawled out on Bruce’s unnecessarily large bed. An assortment of snacks sits on Bruce’s nightstand with more in two trays perched on the bed. He gets the feeling that Alfred was responsible for the platter of sliced vegetables and dip, but hey, it looks good.^^

Time to take over dad's bed! I love when Bruce can't even sleep in his own bed without a kid coming in or he gets kicked out of it because the kids want to sleep but no dad allowed.

^^ Tim hesitates for a moment, looking between Bruce and Jason, before he finally gives in and climbs onto the bed. It’s alarmingly comfortable-- the mattress must be memory foam or something. He crawls over so he’s sitting on Jason’s other side and Dick pushes a blanket over to him. Tim leans back against the mound of pillows and wraps the blanket around his shoulders, pulling his knees up to his chest.^^

Relax with your brothers Tim. Your dad better be getting custody of you. (I'm a bit impatient but I want Tim home.) (Or he's making sure the evidence is airtight.) Let Dick and Jason care for you for a while.

^^ Bruce returns as the third movie is beginning and takes his place between Dick and Jason. They waste no time in curling up against him with Dick’s head pillowed on his shoulder and Jason draped on his side.

“Wait, hold on,” Dick says, rolling out of the bed and walking around to Tim’s side. Perplexed, Tim watches as Dick flops down next to him, leaving Tim sandwiched between Dick and Jason.

“You look like you need some certified big brother cuddles,” Dick informs him seriously, holding out his arms.

“O--kay,” Tim says, drawing out the word as he stares at Dick.

Dick wiggles his fingers impatiently. “Come here, Timmy. You look like you need to be wrapped in blankets.”

“On it,” Jason says from Tim’s other side, peeling several blankets from the outside of his next and dropping them onto Tim.

Finally, Tim gives in and scoots closer to Dick. As soon as Tim settles, Dick manages to wrap an arm around him and Jason wriggles closer, still cocooned in blankets. Jason doesn’t quite use him as a pillow, but he does rest his head next to Tim’s side. It has the bonus of being close enough to Dick that he can gently pet Jason’s hair with the arm wrapped around Tim.

“You guys are a bunch of mother hens,” Tim informs them, but his words lack any real heat.^^

Dick cuddles, Dick cuddles, Dick cuddles! I love this. Tim getting the cuddles he needs from his older brother is pure love.

Awe. :( Why you kick them out Bruce? Let them sleep in your bed! Wait, I mean their bed.

^^ “Do you know when your parents are coming back from their trip?”

He can feel Bruce’s eyes on him. Tim bites his lip and fiddles with the sleeve of his sweatshirt before replying, “I forgot to ask.”

Dick gently knocks their knees together. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Bruce nods in agreement, expression neutral. “Dick is right. Did your parents tell you where they’re going?”

“...I also forgot to ask about that,” Tim says and hastily adds, “Sorry.”

Wordlessly, Dick reaches out and slowly wraps an arm around Tim’s shoulders. He telegraphs his movements enough that Tim has time to force himself to relax before Dick gently pulls him closer.

“It’s not your fault. We’ll figure it out,” Bruce reassures him. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “I’ll be honest, Tim. I’d like for you to stay with us until your parents return like you did when your ankle was healing in October.”^^

Considering it was 5:30/6 in the morning, I'm not surprised you forgot to ask Tim.

Yes! Stay! Stay forever!

^^ “They refused to let me come over here the last time that I asked them to,” Tim shoots back. It’s technically a lie of omission: his parents refused due to his poor grades, but Bruce doesn’t need to know that. Lying to the literal Batman makes his skin prickle, but Tim meets Bruce's eyes steadily nonetheless. “They’d probably be pretty angry if they found out you were involved.”

Now, Bruce looks faintly intrigued. He tilts his head minutely. “Angry?”

Next to Tim, Dick tenses slightly before it drains away as if it never happened. He continues to rub soothing circles into Tim’s shoulder.

Tim shrugs and studies the bookshelves behind Bruce. “I didn’t do well on a math test. They were angry that I wanted to come over here instead of study.”

Dick makes a sympathetic noise. Snapping his book shut, Dick sets it on the coffee table before bringing his free hand up to rub Tim’s other shoulder.

“Tim,” Bruce says, painfully gentle, “Does this have anything to do with how you got the bruise on your face?”

Tim freezes, his chest burning white-hot, before he turns to fully face Bruce. “What? How--” He’s been so careful to cover it with makeup every day since the incident. What happened?

“I saw it last night when I was checking in on all of you while you were asleep,” Bruce explains. He’s infuriatingly calm. It kind of makes Tim want to yell, to scream, to destroy something.^^

You did perfectly well on that math test. The Drakes are just assholes.

I knew it! Bet you it was before Bruce even checked on the boys.

^^ “Someone can love you and still hurt you. My goal is for you to be safe and happy, Tim,” Bruce replies, his voice even and measured. “We don’t have to talk about long term plans right now. But until your parents return, I would like you to stay here with us. I want to work with you and help you.” Dick places one hand on Bruce’s arm and gives him a look. Bruce quiets, closing his mouth.

“You can’t just-- just come into my life and uproot everything. I had a life, Bruce!” Tim shouts, balling his hands into fists. His chest burns white hot. Dimly, he suspects that he might be crying.

Bruce’s face remains infuriatingly calm. Part of Tim really wants to punch it, but instead he only clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white. “I don’t know why you’re so interested in trying to help me, but I don’t need you sticking your nose into my business! There are so many other things that you could be focusing on. Gotham needs your stupid help, but you know what? I don’t!”

He stares Bruce down, tears running down his face. Burning hot flames fill his chest and distantly, Tim notes that he’s breathing like he just ran a marathon. It takes a moment for the weight of his words to sink in and for Tim to realize that he just yelled at Bruce Wayne.

Tim just screamed at Batman.

Oh, he’s so fucked.

Tim distantly registers Bruce’s mouth moving as he says something, but the words are lost to the rushing in his ears. Bruce reaches out for him and Tim flinches away without thinking. The weight of Bruce’s icy blue eyes clamp down on his chest and make it hard to breathe. He just yelled at Bruce Wayne.

“--deep breaths, Tim,” Bruce is saying, his words distant as if spoken underwater. “I’m not going to hurt you--”

Tim stares at him, eyes burning with tears and chest burning with fire, and bolts.^^

Well...that's a good way of telling them you know their secret....wait, did they even catch that?

Tim, please don't. Don't run.

^^ He reaches a bedroom door that part of his mind faintly registers as mine, so he darts inside. The door slams behind him and Tim jumps at the noise, scanning the room for hiding places. His eyes land on the closet and Tim barely thinks before he opens his closet door and launches himself inside.

Closets are good. They’re quiet and dark and safe. Tim finds a stack of blankets in the corner of the closet and quickly burrows underneath them. If anyone sticks their head in, hopefully all they’ll see is a pile of fabric.

Tim huddles there in the dark, draped with blankets, and tries to control his breathing. He’s panting, gasping for air like he’s just run a marathon, and his heart feels like it’s trying to claw his way out of his chest. His entire body is buzzing with adrenaline.^^

At least you stayed in the Manor. Thank you for that. Now let them help you. Please. Especially since you revealed even more by running after yelling st Bruce.

^^ Eventually, Tim’s breathing calms enough that he can talk without gasping. The first thing he says is, “Bruce is going to be so mad at me.”

“He’s not mad at you,” Dick counters. “Worried, yes, but he’s worried for you. I promise.”

“He thinks that--” Tim gulps down another breath and wipes away tears from his eyes, “That my parents are bad people. But they love me, I know that they love me.”

Dick pauses. “I don’t think that people are fully good or fully bad,” he says at last. “I think that we all try our best, and sometimes we can love someone but still hurt them by accident.”

Tim sniffles and wraps his arms around his knees. “I just want my life back,” he says miserably. “Why can’t everything stop being so hard?” His voice cracks on the last word as a fresh wave of tears pours down his face.

“I know,” Dick whispers sadly. “Want to come here?” He holds his arms out in open invitation and Tim is so tired and his head hurts and his chest still feels weird and he’s weak and just wants someone to hug him for a bit.

Scrambling out from under the blankets, Tim crawls over to Dick and sits down next to him. Dick wraps his arms around Tim and pulls him into his chest, and Tim starts crying harder. Wow, Dick is good at giving hugs. He keeps up a steady stream of murmured reassurances and things that are soothing to listen to even if Tim isn’t really processing them.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad--” Tim gasps, but Dick only kisses the top of his head.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re safe here,” Dick says gently as he rubs Tim’s back. “We’re not mad at you.”

Slowly, the hot, tight feeling in Tim’s chest eases until it fades back into his usual muffled fog. His tears, too, lessen from a combination of dehydration and exhaustion until they stop completely.

“I’m tired,” Tim mumbles into Dick’s shoulder.

Dick strokes Tim’s hair. “I’ll bet. Does this sort of thing happen often?”

Tim half-shrugs. “Sometimes,” he mumbles. “Not always.”

“Okay,” Dick replies easily. “If you’re tired, you could try taking a nap. What do you think?”

Tim nods and Dick adjusts his grip on him before standing up, carrying Tim like a child. With his usual easy grace, Dick picks his way out of the closet and walks over to the bed. He gently deposits Tim on the bed and grabs a blanket to drape over him.

“You need to drink some water before you sleep,” Dick says, scrounging a glass from-- somewhere, Tim has no clue-- and padding over to the bathroom. Over the sound of the faucet running, he calls, “Do you want me to get Ace for you?”

Tim contemplates this for a moment before nodding. It feels like his brain was run over by a truck and he would really, really like a warm, fluffy dog on his bed. Realizing that Dick can’t see him, he belatedly replies, “Yes, please.”

Dick crosses the room and hands Tim the glass of water. “All right, give me a minute to find him. Drink the whole glass.”

Tim sips at the water as Dick leaves. A few minutes later, he slips back into the room with a happy-looking Ace. Ace wastes no time in hopping onto Tim’s bed and flopping down next to him. Smiling, Tim snuggles into the blanket and scratches behind Ace’s ears.^^

I'm glad thst Dick went up. Bruce would have been to much, Alfred also. Jason would have worked but I also think he would have done something wrong, even if he didn't try it.

Ace is the best. He's exactly what Tim needs and I'm glad Ace can help.

^^ “I’ll let him know.” Smiling gently, Dick ruffles Tim’s hair. “And by the way, welcome to the Yelling At Bruce Club. Everyone in the house is a card-carrying member, so you’re in good company.” He leans forward and kisses Tim’s forehead. Tim makes a face but doesn’t really protest.

Dick makes his way to the door and pauses, glancing at Tim and a very comfortable Ace. “Text any of us if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” Tim replies as he rhythmically strokes Ace’s ears.

Still smiling, Dick slips out of the room. It takes less time than Tim would’ve thought for him to fall asleep.^^

Dick is the best oldest brother. I say oldest because it is a tie between him and Jason for being the best older brother.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Infatuation

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, cheating, fingering, scary Clark.

This is dark!Clark Kent and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The Kents’ maid stumbles in on an awkward conversation.

Based on these drabble requests:

Clark Kent + “You can’t hide…” + maid AU + Maid overhears Clark saying some concerning things about her and tries to avoid the inevitable. Feel free to add as many dirty kinks as you like, love ;) @lokislastlove​

The sponge grew cold in your hand as you stood beside the door, an inch or two between it and the frame. You hid in the corner as you listened, the shock paralysed you as you tried to process the words. It couldn’t possibly be about you. It couldn’t.

“Clark, you have to realise this is wrong!” Lois said, “it’s inappropriate, it’s unhealthy… it’s… it’s disgusting.”

“They’re just pictures,” Clark replied calmly, “it’s like buying a Playboy. You’re still my wife.”

“Playboy? You’ve been following her… you--” you heard the slap of filmy sheets and her frustrated grunt, “I’m firing her, right now.”

“You can’t do that--”

“For her own safety I will,” Lois insisted, “and then I’m leaving.”

“I pay her, you don’t get to--”

“You need help!” she shrieked, “you understand that? Help.”

“You need to leave, Lois, if that’s what you wanna do,” he said curtly, “I’ll see you out.”

You heard a high-pitched zip and the door opened. You flattened yourself to the wall, stunned that neither noticed you as Lois stormed through with a suitcase and Clark followed. They continued to argue. Your heart rate spiked and you sidled down the stairs only feet behind them as they headed for the front door.

You had to get out before you were found out. You doubted either of them realised you were still there. You went to the kitchen as you heard their voices at the front door and you packed up your bucket of supplies carefully.

What was Lois talking about? Pictures? Maybe they weren’t of you, but it was your name which called you to eavesdrop. Clark was following you, spying on you. Why? You were just a maid and he was married to her. Lois, an established and beautiful reporter. A woman who could be proud, not some maid knuckle deep in other peoples’ grime.

The door slammed and you heard Lois’ car. You went to the back door, ready to slip out. You pulled it open but another barrier met you. Clark stood on the back step as if waiting for you. How had he known. You stumbled away from him as he stepped inside.

“Hey, I just finished up for the night,” you said shakily.

“You heard all that, didn’t you?” he asked, his voice so even it sank into your veins.

“Heard what?” you lied.

He chuckled and reached for the bucket. You let him take it only because you were too afraid to resist. He took it and placed it on the corner of the counter. You took another step back and looked around.

“I really should go, I have an early morning on the opposite end of town--”

“You heard,” he repeated.

“Heard… what?” you echoed breathily.

He smirked and you nearly tripped over your own feet. You turned and rushed through the kitchen and down the hall. You got to the front door and a sudden red flash had you staggering back. The white trim seared and amber bits fell burning to the carpet. 

You looked over your shoulder as you pushed away from the door. Clark’s eyes shone an inhuman red as he walked slowly but steadily towards you. You fled into the next room and ducked down as you feared another blast, foolish as you knew the couch wouldn’t stop him.

Your heart was in your ears. Who was he? What was he?

“You can’t hide…I can hear your pulse,” he said as his footsteps continued closer and you ran out and as good as fell through the other door that led back into the hall, “I can see you… even with these walls between us.”

You made for the door again and he stepped back out in front of you. You collided with the wall of muscle and his hands settled on your arms. His eyes had returned to their usual blue but his pupils were dilated and endless.

“You’re…” you gasped, “you’re supposed to be a good guy.”

The realisation of who he was, the connection of the dots; his physique, his eyes, the red beam, the fact that Lois had the exclusive on all of Superman’s greatest deeds. She knew too and she must know she couldn’t stop him.

“I am a good guy. You think I want to hurt you?” he guided you back and angled you until your heel met the bottom stair. You shook and grabbed his wrists as his large hands went to your neck.

“I don’t know what you want,” you tumbled back as he tried to force you up, “but I want to go home.”

He caught you and pulled you back to him. He had you over his shoulder in an instant and his ascent hostled you with each step. You beat on his back and scratched the wall.

“Clark, what are you--”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he pet your thigh, “I won’t hurt you.”

“Put me down, please,” you cried as he got to the top and turned down the hall, “please.”

You tore a framed photo from the wall and it clattered behind him. He kept on as if he didn’t even notice and entered the bedroom. He kicked the door shut and tossed you down on the bed you’d made only an hour earlier. You bounced harshly and rolled over. You crawled towards the edge and he caught your ankles. He pulled you back easily and you whined in terror.

“Don’t do this,” you begged as he flipped you onto your back, “please, don’t--”

He straddled you beneath him as you smacked at his thick chest and shoulders. You flailed your legs as you desperately tried to wriggle out from the vice of his body. He grabbed the top of your button-up shirt and you clung to his hands. You couldn’t stop him as he tore and the buttons flew into a scatter.

“Clark,” you mewled, “Clark, please…”

“I’ve been thinking of this for so long,” he purred and bent over you, his lips pecking along your throat and chest, “sometimes I just watch you when you’re here and think… think about what I wanna do with you.”

“Please,” you pushed on his head, your fingers twining with his thick curls.

“And I…” he exhaled and slid the straps of your bra down your arms, “think about this…” he took a nipple in his mouth and suckled as his thighs moved lower atop your legs, “even when Lois is here…”

You croaked and trembled helplessly beneath him as his hands roved as fervently as his mouth. He pushed a knee between your legs and lifted his head to hover over yours. His breath danced over your lips and he kissed you as his other leg pushed yours apart. His fingers hooked in the back of your pants and you whimpered into his mouth.

“Shhh,” he drew back and caressed your cheek as he peered into your eyes, “it’s okay, I just want to love you.”

You whined through your teeth in frustration as his body weighed yours down. He tugged your pants down over your ass and sat back to tear them down your legs, quickly pushing them back around him. He played with the elastic of your panties and pressed his fingers to the crotch, rubbing through them as he kissed you again.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered as his lips dragged down your jaw and he slid your panties aside, his fingertips quickly found your clit again, “I only wanted to keep you safe… keep you mine.”

He dipped his fingers into you and the heel of his hand pressed firm to your bud. You gasped and turned your head away as he nibbled along your throat. He teased you until you were wet and pulled his hand back to fumble with the front of his pants. The panic swelled in your chest again as he wiggled his hips and freed himself over his fly.

“No…” you shoved his shoulders as he lined himself up with your entrance, he looked into your eyes and you framed his face with your hands, “please, don’t--”

He impaled you with a grunt and you cried out. Your fingers curled around his jaw as he jerked your body with each thrust. His eyes rolled back as he was lost in the smoke of his lust. His hips moved harder and faster each time your walls twitched around him and his growls filled your ears in a horrid drone.

“It hurts,” you gulped, “Clark--” You sobbed and tugged his hair as he bit at your neck and groped your chest, “you said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

He purred and ignored your protest, your cunt ached around him as he battered your thighs. You hit your head against the mattress in defeat and grunted. He pushed you deeper into the springs and your body bounced against his easily. You slapped his thick arms and closed your eyes, turning your head away as you tried to escape his grasp.

You were trapped, tortured, and terrified. You could only wait for it to be over. You could only hope when it was, he’d let you go.

💗💗💗

Reblog and leave some feedback if you enjoyed. Thanks for reading.

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2021 Day 3: Luthor

Lena is intriguing, that’s the first word she thinks when she meets the other woman, besides the obvious word, which is beautiful.

Rao, is Lena beautiful

But yes, she is also intriguing, and Kara feels this pull, this invisible force that almost feels like it’s drawing her to Lena.

She wants to learn more, wants to know more about the woman standing in front of her and Clark, wants to ask what her favourite colour is, wants to ask where the slight accent she can hear is from, wants to ask how she appears so calm yet Kara can hear how fast her heart is beating in her chest.

She doesn’t learn much in their brief conversation, but she believes Lena had nothing to do with the crash, believes her when she says she just wants to make a name for herself outside of her family. 

It’s not until Kara gets home later that evening, when she’s getting ready for bed, that her feelings suddenly make a bit more sense. The name takes her by surprise, tattooed across her ribs, but it’s not the name itself that surprises her, something sitting so right in her chest at the sight of ‘Lena Luthor’ written on her skin.

No, it’s the fact that she wasn’t sure she’d ever get this, a soulmate, not after she’d lost her whole world, she wondered if she’d lost this too.

But she hasn’t, it’s right there in black, she has a soulmate, and she can’t help but smile at the prospect.

Just as quickly, other feelings start flooding in. Namely, nerves. Because she’s on a planet that doesn’t have soulmates, how is she meant to explain to Lena what it means. Rao, she’s going to have to tell Lena who she really is too.

And not only that, it’s not just anyone, it’s Lena Luthor, and she knows at least her cousin is going to have a few opinions on that fact.

She flies straight to her sister’s apartment, because that’s what she does when she needs help, she finds Alex.

“Jesus!” Alex exclaims, hand flying to her chest when Kara flies through her window

“Sorry,” Kara says, smiling sheepishly at her sister. “I’ll text you next time?”

“Please,” Alex says, walking into her kitchen, pulling a bag of potato chips from her cupboard and tossing them at Kara.

Rao, she loves her sister.

“What’s up?” Alex asks.

“Umm…” Kara says, not looking at Alex as she speaks. Kara has told her about the idea of soulmates on Krypton, told her when she’d had to explain to Kal why he had ‘Lois Lane’ written on his shoulder, but she’s not exactly sure her sister will be on board with a ‘Luthor’ as her soulmate. “Do you remember when-“ the bag of chips tears in her hand, Kara managing to catch most of the chips but a few fall onto the floor.

“Is everything okay?” Alex asks, eyeing Kara uncertainly.

Kara puts the food down on the coffee table and decides to just say it. “I found my soulmate.”

Alex gasps, eyes wide. “You got a name?”

Kara nods, feels some of the excitement she’d felt earlier thrum through her. “I did.”

“Who is it?” Alex asks, eyes flittering over Kara’s body, like she might be able to see the name through her clothes.

Kara takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

Alex is the one that looks nervous now. “Why would I be mad?”

Kara pulls up her t-shirt, revealing the name on her ribs.

Alex’s eyes somehow widen even more than before. “Lena Luthor? Kara, you can’t, she’s-“

“Please don’t,” Kara cuts in. “I already know what you’re going to say, don’t you think I haven’t thought about that? But Alex, I trust her, I trusted her before I saw the name. I can’t explain it, but I could tell she was telling the truth earlier. She’s not like her family, I can feel it.”

Alex sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. She suddenly looks tired. “Okay, I guess I can’t argue with that,” she says, pointing to the place where her tattoo is, now covered by Kara’s shirt once again. “You’re going to have to talk to her, right? She’s going to have your name on her skin and that’s going to be a bit of a surprise, just like Lois got one too.”

“Oh Rao,” Kara hadn’t considered that part of it.

She definitely has to talk to Lena.

She goes to talk to her the next day, easily getting another meeting with her. She’s nervous and excited and all it does is make it hard for her to talk when she sees Lena again.

“Miss Danvers, back so soon?”

“I…uhhh…yeah…hi…” Kara manages to get out, adjusting her glasses as she does. She can already tell this conversation isn’t going to go as well as she’d been hoping.

“Or is it, Miss Zor-El?” Lena asks, tone shifting to something much less confident.

“Oh,” Kara breathes, she hadn’t considered that, what her name might actually say, and there’s no avoiding it now, she knows.

Lena has Kara Zor-El tattooed on her too.

“Should I ask why I woke up with your name tattooed on my back?” Lena asks, genuine curiosity in her eyes.

“I…I’m not exactly from here.” Kara swallows. “Earth, I mean.”

It takes Lena less than a second to figure it out, sees it in the widening of green eyes. “Supergirl?” Her eyes widen even more. “And Clark Kent is Superman.” It’s not a question. “Some things make a lot more sense now.” The last sentence is quieter, Kara thinks it’s mostly to herself. “So,” she continues. “That’s one mystery solved, but it still doesn’t explain why I suddenly have a tattoo.”

Lena’s not mad, or upset, she just genuinely does look curious about the whole thing, which makes it easier to just tell her the truth.

“On Krypton, when you meet the person you’re destined to be with, you know because their name appears on your skin."

Lena gasps. “We’re soulmates?”

Kara bites her lip. “Essentially, yeah.”

“You…have my name too?”

Kara untucks her blouse, undoes the bottom buttons, enough that she can lift it to reveal her tattoo.

Lena gasps again when she sees it, reaches out. Her fingers brush lightly over Kara’s ribs, red hot, yet Kara still shivers at the touch.

“But how?”

Kara shrugs. “I’m not sure how it works exactly, only that it does.”

Green eyes look up to meet hers, even closer now. “A Super and a Luthor? Is that really wise? My family-“

“You’re not your family,” Kara cuts in. “And I’m not mine. We’re our own people, and all I know is that I like you. This doesn’t have to mean anything yet,” she says, gesturing to her ribs. “We can be friends for now, see what happens. I just want to get to know you better.”

Lena’s smile is small but genuine when she replies. “I’d like that.” 

Fic link: ao3

Series link: ao3

[fandom-imagination-ss]

Superman and Lois recap and thought on Season 2 episode 3

I know I've mentioned a few times already snip bits about the New episode (twice about Clarks Deep sexy Voice when he was screaming with his heat Ray... I know i got issues) 

This isn’t going too be a indebt detail point by point topic about the episode  this is my last thought i have on the episode Now fresh from sleeping.  Also i’m sorry how Heavy content my stuff has been about this Show.. But im not too Sorry because - Tyler Hoechiln lol 

But this isn’t about Clark Kent. this is about Jordan and Sarah. 

Now I called it from first episode this season something was up with Sarah.Last week we learned what it was. (she kissed a girl at camp and she doesn’t think it was a big deal) 

Sarah Cheated and Is annoyed / upset that Jordan is Reacting too her cheating and not instantly Forgiving her? excuse me Sara! you Cheated on a Boy. who is Brand Spanking New too relationships, having friends ect. and Can’t understand that what you did completely Betrayed his trust? And hurt him?????  I truly like Sara but this episode made me annoyed at her. 

I HATED That Jordan gave her he’s grandma’s locket.. The Girl cheated On you! betrayed your trust! But Sure! Give her family jewelry!!!  How- How it got turned that Jordan had too ask for basically forgiveness for Sara’s mishap. is MIND Blowin? What the Heck was that? Sarah should be Giving Our boy Jordan flowers! and her grandpa’s Watch or something Not the other way around? HOW- How did that happen?!?!?! 

and that whole speech about Jordan wanting too tell Sarah about the family secret/ and about marrying her. made me Laugh. which- i know rude. But it just reminds Us that He’s a 15 year old kid who is in love for the first time and thinking that his love with Sara is it. that he found his Forever Love. I remembered my first love and how we thought we were going too last forever and we talked about marriage ect at 17... Boy were we stupid. So seeing Jordan  wanting too tell the family secret. just showed how young he is. He had NO intention in telling Sarah (Or really struggled with Not telling her Yet) until Nat pointed out he’s hiding a big secret from her... A Bit different situations. Jordan’s secret is Keeping Sarah her family and His family Safe from Villian’s. 

  Now On too Nat and Jon. I loved seeing them interact. acting All Sibling ie.. ACTING LIKE SIBLINGS!!!!!!!!!!  If they weren’t sort of  Siblings I would think something was up but they are SIBLINGS DONT PULL A LOKI AND HAVE THEM COUPLE UP! 

please- please don't do it! Superman and Lois writers. that would be So messed up. (i can forgive the writers of Loki for it but Not Superman and lois lol ) 

[queenofthearchipelago]

Superman and Lois episode 11 season 2! Almost caught up!!!

"You're my son and I love you." YEAH YOU DO. Love a man who loves his son.

Okay so I got sucked into the episode and a lot is going on but mainly I'm just baffled by how hard we're leaning into the boys being right the last few episodes. Clark comes home and tells Jon that they're good, but he still wants to know why Jon didn't tell him about Candace. Jon literally starts his next sentence as if he's about to make a list of things he was thinking and Clark interrupts him after the first point to be like, "But shouldn't your girlfriend have been punished for dealing drugs?" Like, my dude, Clark, let the kid explain what he was thinking. Surely it would have occurred to Clark that Jon has had more than a month (I mean I know at this point Clark didn't know how long he was gone but he does know Jon had a few weeks to think at least) to think about that and he still decided not to give up Candace so can we please just hear him out. Like, Jon was right, Clark just doesn't listen. Clark opens up the space to listen, and then closes it as soon as he thinks!!! Jon has had his say. Which turns out is in ten words or less.

And then with Lois talking to Sarah, like Lois did the parental thing to do I guess, I personally wasn't mad at her. But her son is growing up and this is his first girlfriend and maybe Lois should be letting him fix or not fix his relationship with her. Give Jordan advice, and then let him go take it or not. I understand Jordan being upset, and Lois should maybe probably apologize for this? Like, my opinion is Jordan has a point by being upset that Lois took his phone (for what, exactly? was that punishment for something else or was it actually as random as it seemed?) when he was trying to talk to Sarah about it. And Lois later says that Jordan probably thought he was trying to give her context about their situation to Sarah BUT and I'm like Lois I know you didn't read the texts because that's uncalled for so what does she know how well Jordan was doing? And then she essentially forces him into doing her preferred method of figuring stuff out. Like, I think from an earlier scene Jordan found meaning in writing out the letter but still, he shouldn't have been forced into doing that. Jordan's pretty much valid, is my point here

And I completely get Clark and Lois being upset that both kids are upset about them while Lana is missing, but I think this makes a lot of sense. Jordan has been feeling misunderstood about the Sarah thing from the beginning of the season, and Jordan has been misunderstood this entire show. They can't ignore it anymore, they can't ignore their parent's not prioritizing their emotional needs anymore, even when the world is breaking. Like, when Jon started getting mad about Clark keeping his secret, I got frustrated with Clark for justifying the secret existing rather than realizing that Jon isn't upset about the secret. He's upset at his father's hypocrisy, at his father not listening to him, at Clark not stopping to consider what might be important for him. UGH, this is executed really well, this all feels messy in an actual family kind of way, and the longer it goes on, the less I believe it will be fixed in the family dynamic, which is probably how Jon feels bth

A side thought is that Jordan literally told Sarah that he was going through family stuff and she was like why don't you put me first and then Lois says exactly the same thing, and Sarah's suddenly all understanding about it like what on earth prime is going on here

Wait so Sarah finds out that Lana is gone, glass all over the living room floor and she doesn't call the cops?

I'm happy Sarah didn't take the letter, but I do wanna know what it says

Wait are we actually doing a thing here where we're blaming Clark's secret for ruining everything or something? Because Clark talking to Lana last night is probably the reason she didn't get kidnapped before she did. Clark is right that his secret gives his kids a normal life... the secret is not the problem, right? If you wanna tell Lana about the secret then fine but let's not pretend that the secret is the problem overall

I got invested again, I cannot believe that happened. The last scene... Lana knows. And Clark told her so beautifully. I felt that history I never got to see these actors play out. I might have cried, I'm fine.

Still don't think we should tell Sarah, but my goodness was the Lana of it all gorgeous. I have forgotten all other thoughts.

So there's another hiatus you say?

[anxiousnerdwritings]

(Part 1) zoydzlhfxfzmbdd BRUH. BRUH. BRUH. your writing is phenomenal! Like, can I get the number of the Demon you sold your soul to for writing talent? Because ugh its so fucking good. I love your concepts and headcanons and they're always so in character and fit so well with each yandere like a terrifying PBJ sandwich 🥪. If you're not busy, can I get some uh platonic yandere Superman? Like, just imagine him adopting a dumbass vigilante reader and getting uber protective when he realises

Yandere Platonic!Superman/Clark Kent x Daughter!Reader

Once Clark meets you as your vigilante persona and sees how reckless and careless you really are, he just knows he has to take you in as his own. He's not like Bruce who will gradually get to the point of taking you under his wing and bringing you into the family, no Clark rushes in head first, much like yourself. Now, he knows you're not of legal adopting age but the doesn't keep him from deciding henceforth you will be his daughter.

When Clark does make his fateful visit, your fate was already decided before he even got to your apartment complex. He either got the address from Bruce or from one of the many nights he followed you home, just to ensure you got back safely and without incident. Speaking of which, he'll have to have talk with you about how you late you come home, barely leaving any time for you to get a restful amount of sleep.

Once you open the door and see Superman in all his superhero glory (he didn't even bother changing) you don't have enough time before he's already inside your apartment, looking around and taking everything in. It's obvious that you're a broke college student just by how bare and empty the place is. You're still babbling on about how he found you and what the hell's going on. Clark already thinks this place isn't good enough for you by any means. Looking through your cupboards only to find cup'o'noodles, peanut butter and RedBull. Yeah this isn't going to fly with him. He's surprised you've made it this far on your own, but now you don't have to survive by yourself cause Clark's here now.

You won't be able to talk your way out of anything with Clark, if he has his mind already set on something then that's what he's gonna go with. You'll be packed up and moved into his house in no time, probably the same night he comes to your apartment. You're pretty sure you're being kidnapped and you are, but Clark's just taking his daughter home. He's too delusional and too far gone to see his actions as anything other than what they are and to him, he's taking care of his precious baby girl and making sure your needs are met.

If you have a job, Clark will be there especially if it's a job like being a cashier, server, or something of the sort. He'll drop by to check in on you and make sure everything's going well. He doesn't necessarily like you working, he and Lois could take care of you, but it is a proud moment to see his Daughter being responsible and doing grown up things. He'll take sneaky photos of you while your working just to send them to Lois or Bruce, bragging about how well you're working and how much of a little worker bee you are. All the while you're having an existential crisis about this strange man who keeps referring to himself as your Dad and how he basically kidnapped you the day before, after not even meeting him for the first time.

Speaking of Lois, she and the rest of the Superfamily have already been well aware of Clark bringing you home, he hadn't stopped talking about leading up to the day he actually brought you home. Lois was hesitant and apprehensive about at first but once he brought you home, she saw exactly what Clark had seen in you. In that moment she accepted that this was the best choice for you. You're still very much in a panic over the whole thing especially when you're all sitting at the dinner table and everyone's acting like this is what you've all been doing for years, being completely normal and not uttering a word about what all has gone down in the last few days.

If you have a boyfriend or girlfriend, you won't anymore after Clark finds out. He won't allow you to date at any age, you're going to stay his precious baby girl. He can't fathom the thought of you getting married or having kids, not that he's opposed to grandkids, he just is opposed to everything leading up to grandkids. He wants to keep in his mind that you're his pure and innocent daughter and that no one has tainted you or anything. If you've already had intimate relationships, it would be best to keep that to yourself.

Clark is always listening to your heart beat, keeping track of even the smallest changes in the rhythmic beating. He'll use his x-ray vision while you're both out on patrol to check for any internal damage or injuries. God forbid if he finds any, you're being rushed to the hospital right away, no ifs, ands, or buts. He'll stay with you the whole time. Now if Clark knows who hurt you or even the slightest inkling they're a goner. He'll track them down and beat them to a pulp, maybe even killing them in the process.

Clark probably has a parenting book about How to Raise a Daughter. He'll take advice from Lois, Kara and Karen but he'll usually go with his gut. He'll treat you a lot like a toddler or middle schooler than an actually college aged person. When you're old enough to drink, he'll probably have a heart attack. Clark just can't take the thought of you going to a bar and getting drunk and then the thought of some grubby drunk person hitting on you or making you feel uncomfortable just gets him all kinds of angry. Lois would be the voice of reason, telling you to date and to go out and have fun but to be safe about it, while Clark is off to the side with his arms crossed and huffing like a child who didn't get his way. If you do go out, Clark will follow whether as Superman or where some ridiculous disguise.

God forbid if you actually do sneak out and go on dates behind his back, Clark will feel both betrayed and upset. He'll pull that "I'm not mad, just disappointed" card on you and you'll probably feel like a piece of shit for making him upset. But then you remember that this man KIDNAPPED YOU and MADE YOU HIS DAUGHTER!!!! But the psychological aspect of being told that you disappointed someone does hit deep and you'll probably come around to apologizing to him and promising him you won't do it again. He'll use that on you a lot to make you more compliant.

If you do have your own REAL family and you're close with them, Clark will probably orchestrate something to get rid of them. Like some sort of weird accident or putting the blame on a specific villain. He was just a little too late to save them and he'll hold you as you collapse into his arms crying. As much as it kills Clark to see you hurting, it had to be done. He'll be right by your side the whole time, even at the funeral he'll be right there for you. You won't feel alone with Clark around, he'll make sure of it. If you want space Clark will hesitantly give it to you, but he's using his super hearing and x-ray vision to make sure you're okay, periodically checking in on you using his powers. You don't know what all you've gotten thrown into and you won't be able to claw your way out of it, it's just best to play along and keep the facade going on. Who knows maybe you'll believe sooner or later, maybe you'll become just as delusional as your "dad", if only.

[chuuulip]

Another Earth

Pairing: August Walker (werewolf) x Female Reader (red ridding hood)

Warning: 18+, PWP, Oral (M and F receiving), Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasm, Slightly ABO Universe, Rough Sex

Words: 7434

Summary: After a failed attempt to sign up for the Halloween haunted house to meet your Superman, the last minute ticket turned your night upside down as you were stuck in another earth.

A/N: Unbeta! Any grammar mistake will be on me. Divider by me 😆 This is for @jtargaryen18​ Halloween challenge, and I’m pretty late! Sorry for that life has been busy xD I still have another one in progress (the Andy barber one) and hopefully can post it soon! Thanks to @navybrat817​ and @venusdemonroe​ for giving me the idea for this story and help me discuss what a werewolf August Walker would do in this lol. Actually I wanted to mention a lot....of things but I guess it would be too much for a one shot lil but anyway Happy reading!!!

***

This year's Halloween event was mental. Several big haunted houses are hosted by celebrities. To name a few, there's an Avengers Tower haunted house, The Hall of Justice League, The X-Mansion, and even Walking Dead one. 

 You knew it wasn't easy. All of them have a huge fandom. The ticket was sold out immediately when it was open for sale, like 3 months before Halloween, and you were terribly upset. You were whining for a month straight to your boyfriend. Or more like your sugar daddy. He was patient and wealthy, but he knew he can't satisfy you enough, so he usually did everything he could for you. But that time, you just have none of it. The relationship, if you could ever say that, fell out immediately because you were unreasonable.

 You really wanted to go to The Hall of Justice League and maybe meet Clark Kent. The obsession started because he always visited your dream and mostly engaged in the steamiest dream ever. It's been your wildest dream, really, to have that body blanketed yours, in a really not innocent way.

 Just one day before Halloween, you finally secured one ticket for The Hall of Justice League haunted house. Of course, the first thing you did was scream. You had been on their waiting list since the ticket sold out, but you really lost hope since last week. But now, you celebrate it with a bit of a jump and constant scream.

 "What the fuck?" Your only housemate barged into your bedroom. Face annoyed.

 You stopped your silly jumps and looked at your housemate. With a broad smile, you hug your housemate and shake her body, "I got it! I got the ticket for The Hall of Justice League haunted house! Can you believe that?"

 The redhead hugged you, and both of you jumped in a circle. "Oh my gosh...I can't believe it! Congrats!!! I really hope you will meet your Kryptonite." she gave you her suggestive smirk.

 "I mean...a girl can only hope. But this is a charity event. I don't think he will be available. What if it's all a decoy and I only meet his wax figure?" you pouted at your friend.  

 "Well, at least you have the opportunity to see it yourself. But remember, behave, young lady, don't let him if he's there, I mean, witness your brattiness."

 "Aye...aye Captain!" you giggled but immediately gave your housemate a military saluted.

 That night you dreamed of those big blue eyes and his firm, fantastic arms on yours.

 ***

 Dress in your red riding hood costume, you patiently sat in the backseat of the Uber car. Well, maybe a little bit impatient, since it's already 11pm. 

 Everything just went down the hill since morning. You can't seem to find your Poison Ivy costume. Not to mention that you were late for work that morning. Your boss was a bitch since she seems annoyed at you every time the male employee or investor became too friendly with you. 

 Who can blame you? You were just good at acting all cute to them, and it's not your fault that they mostly thought you were a cute little employee. 

 You check your wrist. The expensive rose gold watch from your ex sugar daddy elegantly pointed at 11.30 pm. You sighed, "do you know how long I will arrive at my destination? It will close soon."

 "Hopefully, in 10 minutes. Dunno why it's jam-packed." Said the Uber driver.

 You huffed in exasperation, but there's nothing you can do. You arrived very last minute, like 15 minutes before the haunted house closed. Wearing black stiletto boots, you carefully made a small run into the stairs. The booth was stationed to the far left of the building. 

 "Good night, little red riding hood; you are lucky because we are almost closed. Can I see your ticket, please?" A man dressed as Edwar Scissorhands greeted you at the far left of the building. 

 You fished out your smartphone from your small basket bag and showed him your barcode. He scanned it and looked at the monitor in front of him. "Hmm, here for a kryptonite, aren't you." He eyed you up and down and smirked at you. "I hope you have a spooky night, little girl." 

 You smile at him and sashay your way to the entrance. Apparently, they makeover a warehouse into a vast real-life Justice League Hall. Like in the comic. A white half-circle exterior completed with two giant pillars at each side imitated the picture you only seen in comic books. It looks so magnificent. 

 You entered the door after you scanned your barcode at the scanner next to it. The whooshing noises startle you a bit, but you were too excited and step in immediately. 

 The inside was bright with a black marble flooring that shone bright; you even can see your reflection. There's a different section of the silvery door like in most sci-fi, alien invasion movies. So futuristic, so clinical. 

 You darted your eyes and found where you needed to go. A small rectangle monitor with a very digital clock font in it showed you 'Krypton' words. Without hesitation, you did a little run and waited in front of it. The small rectangle monitored turned to green, and it shone. It startled you, but you let out a sigh of relief when it just scanned your body from your head to toe. 

 "So much for a haunted house." You muttered. 

 When the door opened, you stepped in. It was a glass elevator. You circled your eyes and found everything was dark. When the elevator ran, bringing you down several floors, the surrounding changed. 

 Once, the darkness engulfed you like you were being shipped to the deep ocean, but it changed dramatically. Your eyes darted in awe as you drank on the scenery. The scenery of what you would call the imitation of Planet Krypton. So beautiful yet so harsh. 

 When the elevator stopped, the ding noise pulled you to the present. With excitement, you grabbed your smartphone and took several pictures of the scenery. It was just so surreal that a haunted house would make something like this. But you remember how expensive the ticket was.

 "This three grant haunted house better give me a chance to fuck a real-life Clark Kent." you cackled. 

 There's a weird tower with a green light on top of it. You assumed some futuristic objects were supposed to be 'kryptonite' as it floated sparsely in most parts of the supposed Krypton. A bit further, you could see a white crystal-like triangle building. Oddly enough, it reminded you of the Louvre Pyramid. This one just full of crystal-like pillars crisscrossed it. 

 Didn't want to waste your time, you decided what path you should choose. It wasn't easy. Your stiletto pierced to the weird substrate like mud but also crystal-like as if it's ice. Carefully, you mind your footing while again stayed alert. There's this odd feeling of being watched. But you reminded yourself that you were in a haunted house, so it's understandable.

 You let out a loud scream when suddenly a mummy appeared behind one of the floated crystals. "Holy shit, I didn't see that coming." you try to slow down your breath as you clutched the white ruffle shirt under your red corset.

 When you feel that you can walk again, you try to do it faster. Several times it looks like the Krypton had shifted in its light as if the sun rose and shone, but the next five minutes, it set. Made the scenery look like it was illuminated by the crystal alone, like a lamp.

 When many ghost-like mannequins showed up, it got scarier and scarier, and you immediately lowered your hood to shield you from some view. Your eyes perked up when you finally saw the path to the Fortress of Solitude. It was more like an icy bridge with a dark pond surrounding it. 

 As your right foot stepped onto the bridge, a loud noise of a clock surprised you. It struck once and counted until it stopped at the twelfth. It was so loud it's voice echoed. You can even feel it under the sole of your boots. 

 Stunned for a moment, your mind suddenly set on alert mode when the water from both ponds on each side of the bridge rippled. A dinosaur-like head appeared from both ponds. It has a single protruding horn. It opened its mouth and let out a loud growl. A blast of wind came out of it like a thunderstorm. It has sharp teeth like sharks that you assumed could quickly rip your body apart if it sank on yours. 

 "Holy shit. This is— this is a joke, right? It's not real?" Body trembled in fear; you ran your life out to the Fortress of Solitude. The monsters crawled up out of the water. Its slithered movement mimicked a snake, but it didn't have any problem crawling up without things to latch on. 

 You screamed as both of the monsters chased you. Run as fast as your legs allow you. This haunted house event might be too much for you. When you can see an oval object that looks like it can be a big mirror or a huge door, your gloved palms immediately bang on it. "Open the door!" You screamed. When the door finally opened, the two snake-like monsters that chased you suddenly disappeared.

 "Oh— oh my god. Oh my god…," you chanted as you let yourself drop down on the floor. 

 "I see you finally make it." 

 Your face turned to the left. In front of you, stood up tall and proud, Clark Kent with his superman costume. He's just so big. If you compared your tiny body to him, you definitely, nothing.

 You replied to Superman's bright smile with a scowl. Slowly you got up from the floor and cleaned your skirt. "Isn't that just too much? What if I fell to the pond? I can't swim, you know?"  

 He seems surprised, "apologized my lady. It was something the organizer will handle. I don't think they mean any harm."

 "Yeah...yeah… right." you walked closer to the hero and already fished out your mobile phone. "So… what did I need to do now I meet you, Superman?"

 "Hmm… most attendants ask for pictures. Some of them spent time just talking with me. Since you are the last one, you can take as many pictures as you like and of course. If you have any questions about my protection for the earth, I will gladly answer it." The tone in his voice was more soft than authoritative. 

 Think of not sabotaging your Halloween any longer; you tried to forgive the silliness of the whole new level of scary from this haunted house. It's hard not to show off your brattiness in this kind of situation. Still, you reminded yourself that he was someone you weren't familiar with—practically a stranger.

 Gave him a sweet smile, you took several pictures with him. At one time, you tried to bat your eyelashes at him and asked for a picture where you sat on his lap. You spent a solid 15 minutes talking to the handsome alien. Your fingers touched his biceps here and there. You knew that he knew what you were implying, but he didn't refuse you either. At least not blatantly.

 "I apologized, my dear, but I think it's already time." Superman gently put you back on your feet. You gave him an upset face, but you knew it's time to go home. You bid the handsome man goodbye and sneaked a kiss on his cheeks. There's a twinge of pink on his cheeks, and you jump triumphantly at that reaction. Of course, behind his back.

 Following the word of 'exit' behind the piles of the crystal-like shape props, you opened the door. The scenery in front of you caught you off guard. The harshed white tundra scenery was replaced by now dark, almost jungly like one. Unconsciously you stepped back and turned your body to come back to the exit door. How shocked you were when it vanished. Disappear without a trace.

 As far as your eyes could see, it's only darkness and mist. Only the full moon aided your visions. The exhalation of your breath came out like a plume of white steam. It's definitely colder here than the fake Krypton one. The cold air seeped into your skin quickly as if you were actually in the deep of a forest. 

 With a loud sigh, you walk straight. You tumbled and fell down on your knees as your boots got caught with something: either roots or a massive branch. 

 Tired and frightened, you screamed loudly. You weren't sure if this was the continuation of the haunted house or not, but what you want right now just to be back in your apartment and soaked in a warm, relaxing bath. 

 "Get me out of here!" you yelled again. There's a lot of sounds as if a lot of people stepping on branches. A screeching sound of an owl surprised you, but you tried to follow its direction with your ears. 

 There's no way you will wait here and do nothing. Oh...my phone! You fished out your smartphone, but it showed no signal. "Shit!." you muttered. 

 The sounds from a far away crept closed, and you knew it. "You can do it! There's nothing more frightening than that monster snake." tried to encourage yourself; you stood up and slowly navigated. You followed the noises that now closer, like an animalistic growl. It was so intense you can feel all the goosebumps rise up your skin. 

 You weren't sure how long you have been walking, but you stopped suddenly when there's not only a pair but like 7 pairs of reddish eyes glowed in the dark. 

 "Come here, little lamb. Don't follow that voice." a vaguely familiar voice distracted you from stepping forward. 

 "Who the fuck are you, and why you get in my way just now." your voice came out hoarse. There's a twinge of fear in it, and you knew it. You felt like backed down wasn't the best option you had right now.

 "I said, come here, or else I can't even save you when they get you." 

 You stilled as if you didn't hear him talking to you. "Wasn't this still one of the tricks from the haunted house? To let the people scramble in fear?" 

 "Are you out of your mind? Come here right now, or I left you to death. They will either rip you apart or play your body like a ragdoll before one of them eats you." 

 You screamed in horror as one pair of red eyes slowly came out. It's huge. Almost four feet of canine shook its fur. 

 You were hyperventilating right now. Body rooted to the ground as you were surrendered. Welcoming your fate. 

 "Fuck!" 

 You heard a curse from behind your back. Maybe the stranger gave up and left you alone to be eaten by the wolves. 

 The scrunched sound of leaves crushed was loud. Suddenly you felt strong arms hauled you upside down. 

 Your eyes faced the skin of someone's back. You craned your neck a little bit to get a better view of the wolf. Screamed escaped your lips when you saw not only one but all of them, in a pack, chased both of you. 

 "Stay still." The stranger yelled. 

 Did the best thing to not get thrown out by his weird, fast speed, you secured your thumbs in his belt loops. He ran, escaped the pack inside the deep of what looked like a pine forest. 

 You weren't sure how long you ran with him, but you felt that he's finally slowed down. 

 When the thud thud sound reached your ears, you opened your eyes and saw that the stranger walked up a stair.  

 You felt nauseated when he suddenly put you to sit on something that was apparently a countertop. The rushes of blood that circulated through your body made you regain your sense of surroundings. 

 "Where am I?" you didn't mean to add an ungrateful tone in your sentence, but it was too late.

 The stranger eyed you like you were some sort of ungrateful bitch, which maybe you are. "At my cabin," he said flatly.

 You haven't had time to look at him in the forest, but now, under the actual lighting inside his house, what you saw might instantly make you drooled, which you already did right now. Stand up in front of you, a shirtless beefy tall man that's definitely more than six feet tall. He has short dark brown hair with a somewhat thick mustache that's complemented by a stubble. The front strands of his hair were loose and slightly curled. Looks likely due to all the running.  

 The sudden chill of air made you shiver, and he didn't miss your reaction. He left you for a minute and came back with a rug. The sudden heat from it, when he draped the fabric on your shoulder made you let out a gasp of satisfaction. 

 But the next thing you know, he ripped your stocking. You were shocked, eyeing him in horror. "What the fuck are you doing?!" You threw whatever things that's on your reach. The loud sound of glass hit the wall, and the strong grip on your wrist instantly made your stop.

 "Be still!" His azure irises left no room for confrontation. When you felt a sting on your knees, that's when you realized that he just pressed some gauze on it. Likely soaked with alcohol first. There's quite a prominent stain of blood on your legs, and it almost made you nauseated. 

 "If you stop acting like a brat, you'll heal faster." He looked at you with that cocky smile of confidence. "Understood?" 

 You just nodded at him. He continued to clean the blood and inspect the wounds. The position where you were sitting right now made it easier to study him carefully. 

 Although you felt the temperature decreased significantly, the beefy stranger in front of you appeared very sweaty. 

 Immediately your gaze ran down to his neck and continued its way to his chest and his abs. The unmistakable bulge under his pants made you squirm unconsciously. You were in a haze of fear and lust; you definitely insane. 

 "Wha— what's your name, sir?" 

 His strong gazed felt as if his eyes alone can subdue you. Maybe he has these laser eyes like Cyclops, your inner thought buzzed with speculation.

 "August. My name is August Walker. What's your name, little lamb?" 

 How dare this man call you a little lamb? You cleared your throat and told him your name and where you were from.

 "New York? It's pretty far from here." He patched you up nicely. The water-resistant gauze looked really neat pressed on your knees and some on your shin. You were impressed.

 When your eyes returned to August, you gave him a smile that you hoped looked like a smile of gratitude. Not the kind of smile you always presented to any potential partner in bed, sultry, and flirtatious.  

 "I— I haven't said anything but— thanks. Thank you for saving my life." Your left fingers instinctively pat his right arms. The feeling of his skin startled you. It's warm; in fact, it felt like he had a very high fever.

 "Are— are you alright? Your temperature feels off." 

 "Don't mind me. Just take care of yourself." 

 You knew there's something off with him, but you weren't sure if you had a clear mind to think right now. Not with the wolf pack outside and his words on New York being far away from here. Where the fuck am I? 

 "I… I have a—,"

 "I suggest you stay here if you don't want to meet them."

 "But I…,"

 "You can use the bedroom there," his hand pointed to the door on the far end. "Feel free to use anything you want. Just don't come to the basement. I will meet you after a couple of days, and we figured things out." 

 His authoritative voice and dominant persona immediately made you want to counter his suggestion. The funny thing was, looked like he sensed it.

 He approached you, face just inches away from you. Your eyes immediately glanced away from the delicious plane of his sweaty chest. His fingers drew your chin up, so both of your eyes were at the same level. "Do what I said, understand?. Thrust me; you don't want to know the consequences if you violate my suggestion."

 Suggestion, my ass! Your inner mind ready to throw insults at him, but you quickly held it back. In the end, you nodded at him obediently.

 —

 That night you were restless. But in a weird sense, you felt comfortable staying in that cabin. The first night after August left you to your own devices, you had been pretty careful. Not touched a lot of things except food and items that help you with your long bath. 

 His cabin was quite spacious. The interior was a mix of something slicked and modern with an equal touch of classic. Tried to look homey. Not to mention his bathroom, it's super luxurious and made you feel at home instantly. Reminded you of your ex (sugar daddy's) bathroom. 

 Since you couldn't find another bedroom in that cabin and you don't feel like sleeping on the couch, you slept in his bed instead. After all, he said you can use the bedroom there. Still wearing your red riding hood costume, you slipped under the soft comforter. 

 After that, you woke up feeling a bit groggy. Aimlessly wandered around the kitchen, you weren't sure what to do first. Tried collecting your bearing, you tried to make a coffee. Or any equivalent things of it. Everything felt different; you just knew it. When the only thing you could find was several jars that you assumed were granules of tea, you brew it. You sat on the sofa that faced up a lake. The wall was made of glass, making everything well seen. 

 You walked closer and gazed at the vast pine forest in front of you. The trees were tall and big, so majestic. Somewhat it's different from the pine trees you usually see. The lake in front of you looked like it had two different colors, fusion together with weird looking fishes and plants that should grow on the land instead of water. Where the fuck am I? 

 The next day, you woke up feeling a little bit refreshed. You changed your slutty costume into one of the clothes you found in his closet. It was so soft and comfy. You knew when things were from high-quality material.  

 You continued your days by drinking your tea, ate whatever breakfast you can munch, and read a book that has these unusual fonts. You were sure it wasn't in the alphabet, but one day you absentmindedly swipe your fingers on some of the pages, and the font changed. Hell, it even translated into English in an instant. You were definitely impressed. 

 One thing you are sure of was, this place was strange. Wherever you were right now, it didn't look like it's on earth. Or the earth that you knew. Why were you so calm? Because you already freak out. After you freak out, you also wondered, did the haunted house event organizer realized that they were the culprit behind what the fuck happened to you right now? Did your housemate recognize that you weren't home for days? Or maybe she thought you fuck the Superman or perhaps found another sugar daddy? It was so absurd yet so real.

 The last two nights, you were struck in awe as your eyes were spoiled by two moons. Two fuckin moons. It was always quiet at night, but you heard all the howls that you suspected likely from the pack of those giant wolves.   

 It was pretty late, almost midnight. You finally found your small bag hindered under the sofa that evening. Now…, now you had some time to check it. The first thing you checked was if there's a signal. Definitely no signal at all. 

 You curled up on August bed while swiping the pictures on your phone. When you scrolled your pictures with Superman, you realized why August seems familiar. It was none other than August having quite the same face, the same build, even somewhat similar voices with Superman. 

 "Fuck...maybe I should ask August if he would like to be my Daddy while I'm here." Imagining him spoiled you with gifts and other physical attention made you chuckled at yourself. 

 Your fingers instinctively crawled under the gray long sleeve shirt you borrowed from his closet (again). Your brain projected an image as if it was August's hands that ran on your upper thigh. Find its way quickly to your wet core. Two fingers slipped under the black lace panty. The panty that you need to wash daily due to no other replacement available. Left you a couple hours with only his buttoned-up shirt without anything underneath. 

 The sound of a loud howl startled you. It was as if it circled you in close range. Moved as fast as you can, you snatched the oversize robe on you. Your eyes tried to creep behind the curtain in the bedroom. 

 You knew the owner of this cabin stated that you can't go to the basement. You wouldn't be so lucky if that giant wolf found you first and broke in. Although you haven't been really out of the cabin, you tried to inspect a little bit and found it odd that this cabin was apparently a treehouse-style cabin. How come there's a basement in the house.

 You exit the bedroom and go to the kitchen when you last saw August a couple nights ago. Next to the slick wooden cabinet was a particular thing that looked like a door. The surface of your palms works like a stethoscope, felt as if something with pressure from your hands. You tried not to get disturbed by the nonstop howl outside. When you hear something as if the door was shifted, you immediately step back. 

 "Oh my, finally…," you slipped inside the small door when it opened automatically. It was a small narrow corridor-like, and it was dark. Walk inside carefully, you follow the path that leads you to another door. The metal door let out a weird creaked as you pushed it open. 

 "Didn't I tell you not to come down here?" 

 Shocked was evident in your face when you heard his rather gruff tone. You step over, closer to where he sat, that looks more likely an even bigger size of the bed than the one he had upstairs.    

"Don't —,"

 He warned you, but you being you, could never obey orders. Although challenging, your eyes finally adapt to the only natural light from the glass wall. That said, you were totally confused as you can see the lake parallel to your eyes. 

 "What the… wait, how there's even a basement down here? Last time I checked, the cabin is a treehouse?"

 "It's camouflage. No one can't see it or enter from outside."

 "Holy… why there's a three moon?" you switched your gaze from the moon to August. Curiosity got the better of you when you saw his irises were now pale blue. You can still see the outer form that is August, but something was off. 

 A gasp escaped your lips as August rose up from the bed. The powerful moon shone his feature. He was taller, bulkier, and dangerous as he stalked towards you slowly. Your heart thumped erratically as you were cornered. Back supported by the glass wall as now you can see August in his other form. 

 "Holy shit. Wha—what are you?"

 "Told you not to go here, and you just can't listen, little lamb." his smirk turned maniacal as he looked at the fear on your face. His white fangs, longer than usual. His fingers also look unusual, claw-like. 

 "Are you— are you a werewolf?" 

 "Well...you can say that. I'm half human half wolf if you are curious." 

 "So why— why did you save me?"

 The tip of his nose inched closer to yours. You held your breath when his warm skin touched you. It moved to your left cheek and stopped near your ear. "I'm curious," he whispered.

 "I haven't really met a pure human in the same age range. So I have followed you since I saw you step out of that door. I follow you until you meet the other wolf pack, and I decide to help you instead of fulfilling my need." 

 "What need?" you asked him, dumbfounded.

 "This," he pulled away from you, his claw-like finger pointed out below his hip. Focusing on the long and hard appendage that was unmistakably, his cock.

 "Oh—I- I'm sorry?" you gave him your best apologetic face. Eyes seemed eager to stare longer, but you gazed away quickly. Wait, why did you apologize to him? You cleared your throat, "I— I actually not sure what I should do to help?" tilted your head to the right, you looked him in the eyes, almost challenged him.

 Despite almost getting eaten by wolves, August's menacing presence didn't really scare you. Maybe the fact that he was still human and less scary made it easy for you. Not to mention he's hot too, with all his glory. 

 His somewhat evil chuckled sent shivers down your spine. "If you really wanted to help, I think you know what to do, don't you?"

 "W-wait—is—does this mean we 'mate'?" you gave him a somewhat weird expression. "And—and you bite me, give me marks that I'm yours? And knot me, and I will have a litter of puppies, and I become your omega—,"

 His pale blue eyes stared at you as if you grew two heads. It softened immediately as he smiled. Broad one showed you a set of white teeth with extra long fangs. 

 "Oh, my little lamb...what have you read?"

 "Err— Omega verse? Fanfic?"

 He blinked. Gave you a quizzical expression.

 "It's— it's erotica. Where mostly the character you know—," you darted your eyes away from August. "—mate, err have sex. Mostly was written very explicitly."

 "Go on." He said.

 "They are wolves, scenting, imprinting. An alpha mates with omega, and it's been told in a variety of plots possible. Sometimes two alphas fight too." You were breathless. You didn't realize you explained it to him in a quick, incoherent way. 

 You staggered backward as he came closer, forgetting that you already cornered. His long fingers reached out to the white robe you put on you. Although his fingers had claws that looked alarming to you, his hand still skillfully unfastened the robe.

 "That's a bit of an exaggeration, I think. Pack and hierarchies usually form just for a mating season; they hunt together for food and shelter in the winter. We might be scenting people, I guess. After all, we have a very sensitive sense of smell. But no, we don't bite our mate." He took off the robe from your body, left you only with his grey buttoned-up shirt.

 "Well...I love that you are wearing my shirt as if you are mine already."

 You purse your lips at him. "Why aren't you in a pack? Isn't it a mating season?" 

 "I mostly can control myself during the full moon. That's the advantage of being half-human. I don't need to transform myself into a wolf and be in a pack. But I am an alpha if that's what you are curious about."

 "Can-can you turn back to your human form? Not like—you know, you aren't in your human form, bu—," your words were cut off by his thumb on your lips. 

 "You talk too much, aren't you, little lamb…," August leaned down and touched his lips to yours. Your first reaction was to freeze since you were afraid of his fangs. But his surprisingly soft lips coaxed you relentlessly, making you surrender as you closed your eyes. Opening your mouth, his tongue sneaked past your lips easily. His fangs poke at your lower lips, but it didn't hurt.

 The non so innocent kiss became more desperate. Your once shied tongue now dances together with August. Your once clasped palms that were situated on top of your chest now scraped at his shoulder. 

 Your eyes fluttered open as August nipped down from your jaw to your neck. Forgotten, you even close your eyes in the first place. His claw-like fingers unbuttoned his shirt on yours without difficulty, left you only in your black lace panty. 

 The feeling of temperature as if dropped significantly made you glued your body to August. Smooth skin of your chest pressed to his hot hairy one, seeking warmth. One hand secured behind your back while the other palm on your ass. Massage the globe there. 

 "Ohh…" you gasped as you felt his finger on your clothed core. 

 "Hmm… wet already, I see." he let the pad of his finger move up to your clit, while the movement of the claw added sensation to your already. Seeing your reaction, he repeated it a couple times. Made you a mess with only one of his fingers.  

 Arched your body a little bit, you were thrilled to see his expression. Traveled your hands down from his hairy chest; your eyes still focused on his face, while your palms found their way to his hard cock. 

 "Oh, so big…," slowly at first, you ran your hands at the tip of his cock. Even without looking at it, you knew it's definitely bigger than any cock you've ever seen. 

 Eyes widened as your hand slid down to the base. The other weighed his balls. "Holy…," your eyes looked down, stared in awe at his cock. 

 "Careful little lamb, you drooled on it."

 "Who's not?" You eyed him in disbelief.

 August let out a weird laugh, "I expect you to worship it, then." He looked at you with a bemused expression as you quickly worked on his length. Stroked it up and down repeatedly. 

 You go down on your knees, eyes crossed as you focused on his slit that oozed pre-cum. Unconsciously, you stuck out your tongue and brushed it on his slit. Wrapped your right hand at the base of his cock, your gaze rose up to meet his. Left handheld on his upper thigh for support as your lips covered the heat of his cock. You bobbed your head calculatedly as you accommodate him halfway. 

 "Such a good little lamb for your wolf, aren't you." August's right hand was at the back of your head as he nudged you none too gently. Made you choke at his cock, and pulled it out from your mouth. You gazed at the mix of your saliva and his precum in awe. But it didn't last long as August pulled you to your feet and picked you up. 

 He climbed up on the bed with you and laid on his back. He situated your hips and pulled it closer, so your opening was hovering on top of his face. On all four, for him. August was rewarded with a yelped and a moan as his tongue licked your clothed core. 

 The sound of fabric being ripped made you turn your head to the right. "That's my only pa— ohhh," your protest died right away as his tongue lapped your opening. The feel of his claws as he spread your ass cheeks added wonder to your pussy. 

 Trying to keep yourself busy, you swallowed the head of his cock for a starter. His cock was too big for you; your mouth can only allow half of it. Diligently, you tried to move your tongue while you suck on his cock, hands slid up and down. Feeling all the veins that encircled his length made you shuddered.

 August bucked his hips as you put one of your hands to massaging his balls. The action made you gagged as his cock entered further than before. But it didn't take a long time for you to stop due to his sudden attack on your pussy. 

 His tongue was not lapped at you anymore; it rammed inside your wet core like a starved man. You squealed as the end of his fangs scrapped at your now wet pussy. The pressure on your clit as the pad of his fingers made a circular motion left you breathless. It drove you to your high faster than you ever experienced. A surprised scream left off your lips as his tongue scraped your most sensitive part. Your body quivered as your inner walls spasm, hands held on his cock as you ride your high. 

 "Ohh— my god, ohh—my god—," you can still feel the kitten licked as August feasted on it. 

 "Ahh—that' s—that's good." You let your head rested on his left thigh. 

 "Now, for the main course." August's gruff tone pulled you back from your hazy state. His hard cock was evident on your right hand. 

 You felt your body shifted position, and now you were on your back. August spread your legs wide and shifted his position. The feeling of his heavy cock on top of your pussy made you nervous but also excited. Unconsciously you nibbled your forefingers while eyes traveled down to his long and hard cock. It made an up and down motion on your opening. You can feel your wet pussy clenched in frustration, ready to be filled. 

 "August please…," still nibbled at your fingers, you gaze at the wolf on top of you, one elbow supporting your upper body. He's so big, literally and figuratively. If you can't come back to your world, so be it. You didn't mind staying and being his plaything as long as he wanted you. 

 "Please, what my little lamb?" You pouted at that. You definitely weren't a little lamb. If anything, you should be the succubus. 

 "Please put that in me—," you writhed underneath him. 

 "Please put what?" His big body tower over you. His pupils dilated and only left a small ring of pale blue irises. His clawed fingers move up and down your thigh.

 "Ple—please, ohhhh, put that cock inside me! Fuck me, my wolf— nhhh—," your plead was answered when August suddenly pushed the head of his cock on your opening. 

 The back of your head fell to rest on the thick pillow as the intrusion of August's cock sent a surprising jolt on your body. You knew he's big. But when his cock finally spread your lips open and entered you, the overwhelming sensation was something you still didn't expect. 

 "Ohh— so big—," your pussy clenched immediately when August tried to push deeper but also slowly. The noticeable ridge of his vein scraped at your inner wall deliciously. With closed eyes, you gripped the edge of the pillow as you mumbled about how full you feel right now. 

 "Work your clit for me. Yes...make that tight pussy cream on my cock."

 "Oh—like this?" Your fore and middle fingers slowly pulled the hood and made a circular motion as August asked. 

 "Yes… Just like that…."

 It didn't take you long enough to feel the fast buildup on your lower belly. Something that never happened before. "Ohh—yes—I'm going to cum, my—ahhh," you work your clit faster as August cock made a shallow fuck inside you. 

 "Yes, cum on my cock, my little lamb. I want to see your pretty face when you cum for your wolf." His wolf tone deliciously affected your body. His growl sent an extra twitch on your clit. And you lose it when he thrust all the way inside your wet pussy. 

 You scream in ecstasy as your pussy quivered uncontrollably on his hard cock. You feel so full. The feeling of his cock all the way inside you made your brain feel as if it was submerged. Forgotten that you ever closed your eyes, you were rewarded by a sly smirk on August werewolf's face. His eyes were now all dark. His hair loosened, made the curls of it fall to his forehead. 

 "I see you enjoying yourself, my little lamb." His claws caressed your thigh gently.

 "Nnn—of course, I ahhh—I am." A little movement from August made you aware that his cock still inside you. Hard as a rock. 

 August lifted up both your knees and secured it with his hands. You lifted your upper body with your elbows as he retrieved his cock from your wet core. You gasped when you witnessed August pulled it out, inches by inches. Left only the head inside you.

 You moaned when he pushed again. Stretched you like no one else ever had. He did it slowly, knew that you still adapt to his girth. But the feeling when the tip of his cock scraped your most sensitive part every time he thrust inside you, you were tripped to your high even faster than before. 

 The moan of pleasure became incoherent as August sped up his pace. Repeated syllables of ahhh and ohhh accompanied your plead for him to fuck you like you were a female wolf. Released his pent up frustration to mate. 

 Both of you fuck like an animal who just needs to reproduce. Lust clouded the atmosphere in the room. Moaned and growled were sung like a prayer under the moonlight that shone its way to the basement. 

 His balls slapped against your ass every time he plugged in inside you. Sweats trickled down your body, and it looked even animalistic in August. His werewolf form was so majestic that you just wholly let him own you. 

 His feracious fucking looked like almost to its limit. The buzzed on your lower belly was ready to explode, but you held it.

"Fuck!" He growled.

 "Uhh—uhh—uhh—cum in me. Yes—cum in me, my wolf— filled me up with your thick hot cum!" You pleaded like a bitch in heat. 

 August slammed his cock deep inside you as he screamed and let out a long howl. The feel of his warm cum inside you triggered your orgasm. You wail as your inner walls contracted and squeezed his cock. Spurt and spurt of his cum filled your womb to the brim. Something that you never allowed any of your partners to do in the past. 

 You didn't realize that you lock both your ankles behind August ass. But also you sensed something changed. August was draped on top of your body, head sneaked at the crook of your neck. Still, in a haze caused by the release of oxytocin in your bloodstream, you missed the way August kissed turned into something more. He bit you. 

 The still clouded brain of yours pop-up an image of you becoming August omega. His only mate. Bear a litter of pups for him and live happily ever after in his house, in his world. Your pussy unconsciously clenched at his cock that was still inside you. You never really said this to anyone, but you imagine you live in another world since the first time you ever read a story about omega verse. 

 You mewled when the biting stopped. Maybe August bit you just for fun. When he craned his head up to look at you, something was different. His eyes turned back to his azure color. His fangs now short, back to its regular human teeth, and his body wasn't as hairy as he's before. He's practically not in his werewolf form anymore. 

 "You changed? Why?"

 He looked at you with his quizzical expression. "You wanted me to return to my werewolf form?" 

 You glanced away from him and kind of embarrassed to declare that his werewolf form was way hotter than his human form. Not that his human form wasn't hot either. Damn, you definitely bang him every time you can, but his werewolf form just made you curl your toes in an instant. 

 You cleared your throat and looked him in the eyes, "I like it very much."

 "Well...the full moon is still in the sky for quite some time. Are you ready for the next round, my little lamb?"

 "Yes, my wolf." You purred seductively at him and witnessed in delight his transformation before your eyes.

***

Comment, like and reblog are highly desirable! Spread the filthiness lol 💋

[mamawasatesttube]

Do you think Superman ever found out about Superboy trying to drown himself?

so this is one of those thorny questions that rises out of the way dc editorial was like, well superboy and superman are separate books and we don't want superman all over superboy's story all the time. because in the text, there's absolutely no acknowledgment of it from clark, even when mae shows up and rips the s-shield patches off kon's jacket for misrepresenting what superman's crest stands for. if mae's heard of what's going on, surely clark should have heard about it too, right? but that never actually is shown to have happened anywhere in the aftermath of knockout arc.

it goes back to the attitudes prevalent in karl kesel's writing (and in general at dc in the 90s, i mean), with stuff happening to kon that SHOULD make any adult with a degree of common sense and responsibility go "hey! wait a minute!" but that has no real impact because karl kesel as the writer thinks it's nbd. like in superman jr and superboy sr, when clark is written as thinking kon and tana dating is just fine.

like, it's a discrepancy. because superman, the character whose entire thing is like. caring about everybody ever, and who IS shown to care for kon even before they're as close as they get later, ostensibly should have heard about superboy getting tangled up in something with a villain, and gone to investigate, and the fact that he didn't is entirely because editorial didn't let him, and because karl kesel didn't think this was a predatory situation. like yes knockout was written as manipulating and abusing kon, but not in a predatory way - just in the "manipulative and evil woman takes advantage of kind and naive boyfriend who wants to believe her" way. which is insane because she's also written calling him jailbait and all sorts of shit, but. that's just how kesel thinks sexual women are, and that's what he thinks teen boys fantasize about, etc., so it's not written in a fashion that even remotely condemns that behavior as Maybe Not Great.

because like. the thing is. if superman heard that a kid who fights crime wearing the crest of his house got manipulated into defending a villain and then tried to kill himself to take her down, of COURSE he would step in and say something or do something. in annual #2 he literally shows up just to talk to kon about how he's feeling about the paul westfield revelation - the idea that he wouldn't step in re: the knockout situation is absurd. it's completely out of character for him.

so like, no, i don't think he knows. it's the only way to explain him not showing up at any point. which is still hard to actually reconcile with the fact that mae did know, but... when working within the confines of what we're given with by a flawed canon that reflects its authors flawed views, we kinda have to bend stuff here and there a little, right? it's kind of impossible to make sense of, otherwise.

my personal interpretation of events is that clark was kind of avoiding too much news about kon in the early days because he needed some time to process the whole "being nonconsensually cloned while he was dead" thing, but also was in denial that he was upset or feeling violated at all, because he knew it wasn't kon's fault and because he was already fond of kon, and felt quite guilty for having any hangups about how kon came to be. it still takes a little fiddling (for instance, his appearance in annual #2) but it's the best way i've found to keep clark in character while having kon's story remain as it is. (i do find kon's narrative of exploitation and suicidality compelling. he's so kind and so full of joie de vivre and so independent. and at the same time those traits keep getting him taken advantage of. he's a vulnerable child in the spotlight. ough.)

[cdelphiki]

Number 1- A rock in a weary place?

I'm SO excited about this one! It's probably the next one-shot I'm gonna post, and its fic #2 for A Firm Place to Stand. I was working pretty hard on it a couple weeks ago and I took a break to mull over some of the last few scenes. Sometimes writing stories feels like assembling a puzzle when you don't have all the pieces, so you have to make up the pieces, and I'm at a point where I need to figure out what the last couple pieces are.

Anyway, here's the opening! It's in a weird in-between state of some polished parts and some more drafty-outline parts.

Clark felt lost. For as long as he’d been planning on getting Billy, he hadn’t fully realized what taking a kid into his home would fully entail. Because, for all the talk about how he’d be more like a roommate to Billy… he also realized that he couldn’t be just a roommate. He was the adult. He had to be— the adult. And Billy was the kid. Clark was providing for Billy, and that was that. Which meant, Clark had to cook food. A lot. He’d never really cooked before, when it was just him. He ordered food, usually. Or just ate something microwavable. Ma would be upset, if she knew that. But she didn’t know, so she couldn’t be upset. If she found out he fed Billy, a “growing boy” primarily greasy take out and cheap microwave dinners… Well Clark wasn’t sure he’d find a place on Earth safe from her wrath. And since he was Martha Kent’s son, he did know how to cook. So that’s what he did. A lot now. Breakfast and dinner every day, and lunch on the weekends too. Although there had only been one weekend with Billy, so far. Five days in total.

He’s sitting at his desk during his contemplating. Lois tries to get his attention. She asks whats up with him and he says “oh nothing, just a lot on my mind.” “Such as…” she prods, but he doesnt reply. Maybe he just shrugs. She sighs and says “Okay FINE, I got a new story.” You won’t believe it, but there’s competition for Superman.” “What?” he asks. “You know that guy from Faucett? Captain Marvel? He’s been spotted in Metrpolis this week.” Really? He asks. Yes, and this morning, you’ll never believe it. I was walking from the garage when— [story about how captain marvel swooped in and saved someone. Maybe an old lady from getting run over, or a kid who had slipped away from his father.] And maybe Lois gushes here about how handsome captain marvel is. “He’s some real competition for Superman. “ Clark here can think about how he’s just a child. A ten year old child. But he couldn’t tell Lois that. How would he know that? He really hoped he never had to have that conversation with Billy, either. He’s just a kid… Adults shouldn’t be looking at him as if he’s an adult.

[thevindicativevordan]

whacha think of that superman 2000 pitch? seems like a mixed bag honestly, not sure if gutting the marriage would have been worth it

Personally I think it could've been the shot in the arm the character needed.

For those people who have somehow found this blog but aren't obsessed with every bit of info on Superman they can find, what Anon is talking about was the Morrison/Waid/Millar/Peyer pitch on how to reboot Superman for the 21st century. No doubt the creative names behind this have peaked your interest, and I promise the pitch itself is fascinating. You can read the pitch as well as an article that analyzes it and gives some of the background. Note that there were at least two versions of the pitch, Superman 2000 which is what we have a copy of and was more Waid/Millar's brainchild, and Superman Now which was the final pitch and more Morrison's baby. Far as I know we have never been able to read the Superman Now pitch but we do know a few details about it.

Revamping pretty much every corner of Superman's world, from the man himself, to his supporting cast, to his Rogues, this was basically an attempt at rejuvenating the character who was already starting to show signs of stagnation at the tail end of the Triangle Era. For Byrne fanboys this pitch is the blackest heresy because it pretty much goes scorched Earth on Byrne just like he did to Pre-Crisis. All the soap opera storytelling is gone, replaced with much more high concept scifi adventures. "Grounded" Superman is gone, his power levels were going to rocket up, including his intelligence which would have been nice. Trunks on the costume were gone too, Superman would've gotten a new costume with a new S-shield. The Fortress would've been massively expanded and fleshed out. Unsurprisingly a lot of these ideas are 100% up my alley. Big dealbreaker for a lot of people is that the Superman 2000 version would have dissolved the Clois marriage.

Must confess to being a bit of a hypocrite here: while I'm adamant that Peter and MJ should be married, I'm indifferent to whether Clark and Lois are. It's hypocritical because Millar was on the team, and he is rumored to have passed along some of the pitches ideas to Quesada, who used the basic premise of a trickster dissolving a marriage with magic in One More Day. So this pitch may have helped contribute to the Spider-Man story I hate with a passion, yet I still think overall it's great.

Why am I not so upset about the Clois marriage getting dissolved? Well for one the 2000s were some of the worst writing for that relationship ever. Grounded had Superman implicitly threatening to break Lois' arm if she didn't bury a story because it would've put people out of work. Earlier in the 2000s you had Lois being written as a "bitch" who was "unworthy" of Clark, with Clark getting romantic teases with Lana, when both of them were married to other people! Only Busiek and Johns wrote the couple to my liking during the 2000s. Fundamentally I care more about whether Clark and Lois are written well than whether they're actually married, and I think we would've gotten much better writing for both if this pitch had gone through rather than what we got. However you should know that the final pitch apparently kept the two of them together anyway.

Love telling people about this pitch because it spits in the face of the idea that Morrison and Waid are just Silver Age nostalgia fanboys. They wanted to take the trunks off of Superman decades before Jim Lee did it! The Daily Planet is a 21st century media company that doesn't sell newspapers?!?!? Red Kryptonite as a tool for horror stories instead of funny throwbacks to Pre-Crisis?!? Weisinger would be rolling in his grave. No question that those two really like a lot of Pre-Crisis stories, but they aren't interested in returning to that status quo. Morrison also apparently wanted to keep the marriage (I've heard contradictory accounts about whether they are pro or anti-marriage, but Waid/Millar are both on record as being against the marriage) and Clark & Lois stayed together in the final version of Superman Now.

Lot of ideas for how to revamp the Rogues as well, my favorite is the Mxyzptlk pitch. Making him more of a serious threat to Superman is something I've wanted done for a long time, and it's part of my own take on where he should go. Bringing in Solaris and making him a threat to Superman in the present would've been awesome, I still have hope that Solaris will be one of Jon's foes. Rest of the ideas are solid, I am curious if they had plans for other foes beyond the ones listed, and what those ideas would've been.

Overall a lot of ideas that are present in this pitch would go on to form the basis for individual stories, acclaimed stories at that. Morrison used their ideas for All-Star Superman and Action Comics. Waid used his for Birthright and presumably some will also show up in his project with Hitch coming next year. Millar used a few ideas from this pitch in Red Son, particularly the ideas for Lex. Could all four working together on weekly comics done as well as they did working individually? Morrison and Waid working together on a weekly got us 52, but that was a miracle in execution that left the 52 team pretty burnt out at the end. Doubt they could have kept up the energy for weekly Superman comics for long, but I do think it absolutely would've gotten people excited and interested in Superman. Also am sure that at least some of the comics would've been legendary, and the 2000s would've been overall a much better decade for Superman. Might have even put him on better footing to challenge Batman in popularity.

The pitch is one of the ultimate "what ifs" of comics and Superman in particular. Impossible to say if the execution would've been able to deliver on the ideas, and many of those ideas got turned into stories anyway. Still, can't help but sigh and imagine 4 of the hottest creators at their peak who love Superman working on his main books. Doubt there will ever even be a chance of anything like that happening again.