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Tim Drake had gone through many events in his life—some sad, some heart-wrenching, and some that, rarely, even included moments of happiness.
But perhaps the event that truly changed his life was being “adopted” by Lex Luthor.
Yes, when Tim was around ten years old, Lex had… “spiritually” adopted him.
Or, more accurately, he had become something like a godfather to him.
(This is still a debatable point. Even in Tim’s notebook, there’s a column titled, “Father figure or trauma sponsor?”)
The Drake family and the Luthors had met in business circles, but they had never quite achieved true closeness.
Still, they were polite enough to each other at charity galas.
It was at one of these galas that Tim first met Lex.
Lex, ever arrogant, was giving a speech on stage about “I can save the world, just give me the budget,” when young Tim asked him a few clever questions.
And from that moment on, Lex Luthor became utterly obsessed with this little boy.
A short while later, Lex approached Tim’s parents: “Your son is truly extraordinary. I would like to be his mentor.”
Tim’s parents saw it as an “educational opportunity” (a huge mistake, though no one realized it at the time) and agreed.
Thus, Tim began spending time with Lex in Metropolis whenever his parents were out of town.
And contrary to popular belief…
Lex Luthor was strangely good with kids.
Tim later claimed he wasn’t surprised at first… but he was lying.
The man was unexpectedly patient, even once teaching Tim how to make coffee while saying, “The real danger isn’t hot water—it’s emotional attachment.”
One day, Tim couldn’t hold back and asked:
“Why are you so good at this? And why did you want to be my mentor?”
Lex was filling a crystal glass at the time.
His answer was shocking:
“I actually had a child with my ex. The custody case is ongoing.”
Tim held his breath for a second.
“…Shocking.”
“I know,” Lex said, shrugging. “Even funnier? My ex is Clark Kent. Yes, the journalist.”
“Really? That’s… him, your type?”
Lex rolled his eyes.
Then he went on about Clark for a long while—calling him “emotionally manipulative,” “stole my own son,” and “one day I will hit him”—and Tim forgot why he had even asked in the first place. The breakup had affected him deeply. Maybe he should create an opportunity to punch Clark later? Tim added that to his to-do list.
Later, Tim discovered that the “son” Lex referred to was actually Superboy, a clone of Superman.
“A Golden Retriever-like kid?” he thought.
Yes. Seriously.
Also, Lex had included his own DNA. Yes, why he did it, Tim would never ask again—he’d rather throw himself off a building than relive the long, gross, enemies-to-lovers style conversations.
(Plus, with the shocking revelation that Superman is Clark Kent, the opportunity to punch him had become a little trickier, but oh well.)
And from that day on, Tim had practically become Lex’s honorary son.
But then tragedy struck—his parents died.
And Lex formally adopted him.
Six years passed.
Tim was now sixteen years old and known as Tim Drake-Luthor.
Or, more commonly:
Red Robin, the chaotic yet brilliant menace of Gotham and Metropolis.
But let’s be clear:
Tim wasn’t bad because he was evil.
He was bad because he was bored.
(Lex might have had a little influence, yes—but not 100%. Maybe 60%.)
Tim was so clever that even Batman had classified Red Robin as “high risk” in his systems.
And Tim had learned this by hacking into the system himself. “So it’s Batman’s fault. If there’s a security flaw, what can I do?”
As a result, Tim got bored again one day.
Lex said to him while sipping his coffee: “Maybe you should try being the Villain. You'll have fun.”
Tim raised an eyebrow.
“Why not, let me try.”
And with that sentence, Red Robin, everyone's nightmare, was born.
---
Back to present, Tim got bored again.
And in a nostalgic, impulsive mood… He kidnapped, Jason Todd, aka Red Hood.
Jason was now waking up in a dimly lit room, hands tied behind his back, chained, with a slight headache.
Tim had been “very kind” to him—meaning, knocking him out and giving him a few electroshocks were just “precautions,” right?
Tim watched panicked Jason from the camera feed. The panic was perfectly normal; the man had been stripped of all weapons, tracking devices, his helmet, and even his domino mask at his most vulnerable moment.
Tim left the monitoring room and entered the room where Jason was.
When the door opened with a heavy click, he immediately noticed how Jason tensed reflexively.
In the dimly lit room, Tim pressed a button—the lights turned on instantly.
“AH, DAMN IT! COULDN’T YOU TURN ON THESE DAMN LIGHTS BEFORE? MY EYES ARE BLIND NOW!”
Jason quickly blinked, then froze completely when he saw who it was.
“Red Robin…”
His voice was nearly a growl.
Perfect. The first fun moment of Tim’s day.
Jason’s face twisted with panic, disbelief, and pure “oh damn” expressions.
He had been kidnapped by Gotham and Metropolis’ most wanted chaotic villain.
And only one thought echoed in Jason’s mind:
“Yes… this is definitely the worst lottery I’ve ever won.”
Tim paused.
…Ah, damn it. Coming in his Red Robin costume wasn’t part of the plan.
This was supposed to be personal. But after sleepless nights, three coffees, six projects, and a Lex meeting, he’d forgotten what he was wearing.
Perfect.
Tim Drake-Luthor: young CEO, sleepless millionaire, “Lex’s golden child”—media darling, nightmare of the criminal world…
“HEY, YOU BASTARD! IF YOU EXPECT ME TO BE SCARED BY THAT STARE, YOU’LL BE WAITING UNTIL I DIE!”
Tim sighed to himself.
Great. Headache before even starting the conversation.
“Cut the yelling. You’re hurting my ears.”
Jason paused—for a very short moment.
Then immediately gritted his teeth:
“You bastard! Why did you kidnap me? What do you want? Are you going to torture me? Get information? Money?
I’ve got nothing to give you! Come on, torture me and see! You’ll get nothing!”
Tim rolled his eyes.
So much drama deserves an Oscar.
“Add a little more theatrics, Jason.
I didn’t kidnap you to torture you.”
Jason stiffened at his name.
“Wait… what?”
Tim smiled.
“As I said, I’m not after info. No ransom. Seriously, don’t lump me in with amateurs. My goal is entirely different.”
Jason swallowed hard.
Not a good sign. This was a very bad sign.
“Then why… why did you kidnap me?”
Tim’s lips curled into that famous “my next therapy bill is going to be massive” smile.
He headed to a table in the corner.
It was covered with a black cloth.
Jason’s instincts screamed.
“No… no, no, no. Whatever’s under that table is definitely a torture device. Damn it, it’s probably a saw!”
Tim lifted the cloth.
Jason held his breath.
His eyes widened.
“Wait…
Is that… a camera?”
Tim pointed the lens at Jason, placing a sweet smile on his cheeks.
“Yes. I kidnapped you to take pictures of you, for old times’ sake.”
Jason’s mouth opened. No words came out.
Tim continued cheerfully:
“Secretly stalking and photographing you isn’t fun anymore.
Bad angles, bad lighting, terrible resolution! So I thought, why not just kidnap you and take proper photos?
Also, you’ll have a current photo for your Robin profile!”
Silence. One second. Two seconds.
Then Jason exploded:
“WAIT A MINUTE—DID YOU SAY ‘OLD TIMES’?! YOU TOOK PHOTOS OF ME WHEN I WAS ROBIN?!”
“Yes.”
“ARE YOU A FREAKING PSYCHO?!”
Tim calmly adjusted the lens.
“No, a stalker. But of the artistic kind.”
“IT’S THE SAME THING!”
“No, it isn’t.”
“YES IT IS, PSYCHO!”
“Jason, you’re mixing up definitions.”
Jason angrily tried to shake the chair—but it only rattled the chains.
Tim adjusted the flash.
“Anyway, shut up and pose a little. All that noise is ruining the shots.”
“I’ll pose my fist at you!”
Flash went off. Jason’s eyes were blinded.
Tim smiled.
“Perfect! Great anger expression. Now add some fear… yes, exactly!
These photos are way better than the ones I took on the rooftops when I was nine.”
“WHAT?!!! WHEN I WAS NINE?! SO YOU’VE HAD NO BRAINS SINCE THEN!”
Tim pretended not to hear, adjusting the lens.
“While I have you kidnapped, let’s get a few fun shots too. Blackmail material, maybe.
Rabbit ears? Or a flower crown? It’d look amazing on your head.”
Jason’s face drained.
“If you put a flower crown on my head—”
Tim smiled ominously sweet.
“Cheese too, Mr. Hood~”
Flash. Jason’s eyes were blood-red, his face darkened with anger.
“YOU SON OF A—”
.
.
.
.
After three hours of “photoshoots,” Tim looked happily at the photos on his camera.
They were perfect!
Perfect poses, great lighting, aesthetic angles…
And yes, he now had hundreds of Red Hood photos.
He looked at Jason, fainted in the chair wearing a cat ear crown.
Just to be clear—Tim hadn’t zapped him again.
Jason had simply… had a little shock.
More precisely, Tim had told him that he had solved his identity, Batman’s, and all the other Batfam members’ identities instantly since he was nine, adding each new member as they appeared. Jason fainted from shock.
Or from three hours of flash bursts. Yes, definitely that.
Tim had no intention of revealing anyone’s identity.
As Papa Lex (yes, Tim called him Papa Lex—and Lex always acted like he was about to faint whenever he heard it, which was hilarious) always said:
“If you want to destroy heroes, don’t go after their identities. Go after their symbols… turn the public against them… and enjoy it.”
Ah, how wonderfully strategic lessons love-sick fathers can teach…
Anyway.
Tim now had fainted Jason figured out and was thinking about how to return him.
“Maybe I should dramatically drop him from a helicopter?” he muttered.
Then he paused.
“Wait… he’d die. Hmm. Maybe leave him with a truck instead?”
At that moment, the ceiling split with a loud crash!
Sunlight poured in.
Tim put his hand on his forehead.
“Ah, damn it… when did it become daytime? Has this photoshoot been going on for over three hours?!”
Then a familiar voice came from above:
“Red Robin! Are you kidnapping people again?!”
Tim’s shoulders slumped.
He recognized that voice anywhere.
He looked up… and there he was:
The ever-present, golden-hearted but slightly brain-dead, overly loyal Golden Retriever—
no, wait, what he meant was, Superman’s son, Lex’s DNA legacy, tail-wagging menace, so-called nemesis…
Superboy, aka Conner Kent.
Tim took a deep breath, crossed his arms, and said in a decidedly annoyed tone:
“I didn’t kidnap him, for once!”
Conner hovered, arms crossed, raising an eyebrow mockingly.
“Oh really? Are you sure? Because Red Hood is currently lying on your floor with cat ears on.”
“C… could he be a willing model?”
Conner dramatically put a hand on his forehead and sighed. “Ti—”
Tim gave him a hard look, and Conner immediately cleared his throat.
“I mean, Red Robin! Do you even realize what you’re doing?! Hood has been missing for 28 hours! Gotham is in full panic!
Batman was almost calling the Justice League!
And you’re here… taking photos!”
Tim lowered his head for a second. Maybe he’d lost track of time a little. But still… the lighting was perfect!
“I was just taking photos!” he said, spreading his hands.
“I wasn’t doing anything bad! Why are you yelling at me?!”
Conner’s face instantly fell.
Golden Retriever expression: activated.
He slowly descended to the floor, softening his gaze.
“No, no, no, Red, I didn’t mean to scold you… I was just really worried.
You promised me you wouldn’t kidnap anyone, remember?”
Tim glanced at him from the corner of his eye, then turned his face away.
“Maybe… but this was an exception.”
“Exception? This guy has three chains on him, and a cat-ear on his head!”
Tim shrugged and muttered, “Concept shoot.”
Conner sighed, then took a step closer and placed his hand on Tim’s shoulder.
“Come on, Red, everyone was panicking. Bruce broke three of his computers, Dick tried meditating but started crying within five minutes, and I… I was worried, okay?”
Tim’s eyes softened slightly. “You won’t yell at me again, right?”
Conner nodded immediately.
“Never! I swear! On the honor of all of Krypton!”
He placed his hand on Tim’s waist, a soft smile lighting up his face.
“But Red, I love you, and… doing things like this just doesn’t suit your sweet personality.”
Tim’s ears turned pink. “Sweet? I’m not sweet. You’re imagining things.”
Conner chuckled and leaned slightly, whispering into his ear: “No, Timmy… you’re sweet, handsome, smart, a little intimidating, but completely adorable as my boyfriend~”
Tim’s face flushed crimson.
“How many times have I told you not to call me by my real name in the field, Superboy!”
Conner grinned and made a dramatic bow.
“Oops~ my bad, Red~”
Tim rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lips twitched involuntarily.
Just then, the unconscious Jason on the floor muttered something. “…Bats… will… kill you…” and fell silent again.
Tim immediately turned to Conner:
“Perfect timing! Can you take him for me? I was wondering how to carry him.”
He paused, then added sweetly:
“Please?”
Conner smiled. “I was going to take him anyway, but since you asked so nicely…”
He bent down quickly, lifted Jason effortlessly from under the arms, carrying the big guy like a grocery bag. Tim muttered under his breath: “This defies the laws of physics.”
Before taking off, Conner turned back and planted a kiss on Tim’s cheek.
“With your permission, I return this big guy to Gotham.”
Then, as he glided backward, he waved and winked.
“See you at our usual spot, Red~”
Tim froze, bright red.
His ears matched the color of his costume.
He buried his face in his hands and sighed.
“Damn it… he has no right to be this handsome…”
Tim and Conner had met two years ago. Tim had just become Red Robin—dropping a red signature across Gotham’s dark sky. Within weeks, his name spread everywhere. Among criminals, a whisper; among heroes, a rumor: “too smart, too young.”
One day, he had a minor mission in Gotham; a few hours’ work, but thanks to fate’s odd sense of humor, it extended all the way to Metropolis. There, he caught Superboy’s attention—and by “attention,” I mean Conner first observing him, then tracking him, then, despite the “control yourself, Superman Jr.” warning, chasing Red Robin.
What happened next… exploded.
A very “polite” argument with a side of kryptonite—throwing each other into walls, destroying a few buildings, accidentally saving each other’s lives (inevitable), and from that moment on… their paths kept crossing.
They fought, argued, sabotaged each other’s plans, and even got accidentally stuck together on an island mission. There, a lot of arguing, yelling, cursing, survival struggle—and yes… a bit too much kissing occurred.
From that day, their “hostility” strangely… evolved.
Looking back now, Tim could clearly see—Papa Lex had influenced him too much. Even his relationship resembled Lex’s old “enemies-to-lovers” drama with his former nemesis.
Yes… Tim had serious father issues. (But it wasn’t his fault—it was Lex’s legacy of drama.)
As a result, the two were now secretly dating.
“Why secret?” you ask—three words: Lex. Luthor. Syndrome.
The man was oddly helicopter-parenting.
Whenever Tim showed interest in someone, Lex excessively interfered in the relationship.
Come on, Lex!
Tim once had a bad breakup, and Lex ruined his ex’s family company? Sure, the view was nice, but still…
So Tim decided to keep this one secret. Especially considering the person in this relationship…
“Hey, Papa Lex, how’s it going? Yes, I have a new relationship, but this time it’s a guy. Oh, and… technically, he carries your DNA and is the son whose custody you lost to your ex. Isn’t that wonderful?”
—Just imagining explaining that, Lex dramatically clutching his neck and fainting.
Or worse… attempting to Kryptonite-punch Superman.
Both were top scenarios on the “possible outcomes” list.
Lost in thought, Tim had already arrived at his penthouse in Metropolis.
This was the apartment he bought with earnings from his first project working with Papa Lex.
He placed the camera in a secure box as if it were sacred, then changed into more comfortable clothes—the T-shirt and gray sweatpants Conner had left behind.
The fabric still smelled faintly of Conner’s perfume; sunlight, grass, and a touch of “hero complex.”
For a long time, they had only met with their secret identities.
Though Tim already knew Conner’s identity (figuring it out was as easy as hacking Lex’s coffee order).
But one day, he trusted Conner enough to reveal his own identity.
Of course, a small warning:
“If you betray me, I’ll lock you in a kryptonite-filled room. Forever.”
Classic Red Robin-style romance.
Luckily, for Papa Lex’s bald head’s sake, Conner did not disappoint.
He didn’t reveal his identity to anyone.
He even actively prevented Tim from doing evil.
When Tim discovered Conner did it not out of “moral stance” but just because he was bored, Conner pouted for a week, then came every day with a new absurdity to entertain him.
So now… they knew how to waltz (Conner’s foot still occasionally stepped on Tim’s, but whatever).
They had learned skateboarding (Tim ended up in the hospital twice, but we don’t count that).
Bungee jumping, mountain climbing, skydiving, cave exploration (a total disaster—Tim still hadn’t forgiven that bat)…
They collected all of it in a notebook they called the “Adrenaline List.”
The list contained strange, insane, but oddly romantic things.
Tim sometimes smiled to himself while looking at it.
Doing everything with Conner… made it more fun.
Lost in thought, Tim suddenly felt familiar arms wrap around him from behind.
Warm, strong, just a bit too safe.
And a kiss landed on his temple.
“Hello, Timmy~”
Tim rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lips twitched.
He leaned back, meeting his gray-blue eyes with sky-blue ones.
“One was like the sky before the storm, the other after.”
“I told you not to call me that.”
Conner chuckled, then placed a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose.
“Don’t lie, you like it when I call you that.”
Conner suddenly jumped onto the couch, pulling Tim into his lap and hugging him tightly.
Tim, caught in the heat of this massive warm stove, rolled his eyes but… quietly enjoyed it.
“Did you return Hood to Gotham?” he asked.
“Yes!” said Conner, proudly. “I definitely delivered him safely to Batman. He asked, ‘Who kidnapped him?!’ but I said, ‘I don’t know, found him in an abandoned building~.’ Did well, right?”
Conner looked at him like a puppy expecting praise.
Tim could have sworn the man had an imaginary tail. He even briefly saw ears.
“Yes, excellent work,” Tim said, teasing but soft. “Thank you for not saying anything… and sorry for breaking my word. I’ll do my best not to kidnap anyone again.”
Conner kissed Tim’s cheek, his voice soft but clearly suppressing a giggle:
“I told you, you’re too sweet to be bad, Tim!”
Tim’s ears pinked slightly.
“I’m not sweet. You’re just imagining things.”
Conner just chuckled, resting his chin on Tim’s shoulder.
“Timmy~ did you do this again because you were bored?”
Tim tightly closed his mouth and looked away. The Luthor version of “yes, but I’ll never admit it.”
Conner shook his head with a mixture of exasperation and affection.
“Being bad is boring now too? Then why not try being a hero, hm?
You’d have more fun. And admit it, being a hero suits you.”
Tim gave a look that was completely unimpressed by the failed superhero in the “getting me on the right path” operation. Conner’s “moral boyfriend mission” was truly lacking subtlety.
Conner, slightly embarrassed but stubbornly persistent, looked at him.
His cheeks were flushed, but he kept his composure.
“You know, Babe, I think you could go to Gotham and be the new Robin! After all, your name has Robin in it!”
Excitedly, he continued with his hands open, as if he’d discovered the world’s brightest idea:
“You already told me you chose the name Red Robin because the ‘Robin’ part caught your attention! I think you’d be the perfect Robin! Fighting villains every night, never getting bored!”
Tim lightly flicked Conner on the forehead.
“Just because I’m bored doesn’t mean fighting villains every night counts as heroism, Conner. Stop it.”
Conner puckered his lips, whining like a puppy.
“Hmm… doesn’t sound bad, though…”
Tim looked away, feigning a cough to distract.
“Still, being Robin is intriguing… I guess if I had the chance to be Robin, I would…”
Yes. That sentence.
As soon as Tim said it, he saw the sparkle in Conner’s eyes—and his brain immediately sounded the alarm.
Danger. Danger. Golden Retriever about to do something ridiculous.
That sparkle was the familiar “I have a brilliant idea” look that made Tim’s fur stand on end.
Just like the cave exploration incident.
Or that “bungee jump but into mud instead of water” fiasco.
And the next day, with that same look, Conner, as Superboy, kidnapped Tim right from Lex’s office in broad daylight.
Yes, daytime.
Sun at its peak, Lex’s security cameras on, Tim’s “do not kidnap” button crying quietly in the corner.
Note to self: teach your boyfriend the art of kidnapping.
Conner flew Tim directly to Gotham, the Batcave, and placed him squarely in front of a shocked Batman and Nightwing.
Cheerfully, and slightly too loudly:
“Batman! I brought you a new Robin candidate! This is Tim! Super sweet, smart, talented, and definitely someone you need to prevent from being evil!”
The cave went silent.
So silent, even the bats seemed afraid to make a sound.
Batman’s cup cracked in his hand.
Dick Grayson’s mouth hung open.
Tim… looked incredibly calm.
(Even internally plotting a Kryptonite punch plan on Conner, he maintained his seriousness.)
But since his boyfriend had “created an opportunity,” he was going to take full advantage.
Tim stood like a professional, speaking with utmost seriousness:
“Mr. Wayne… or Batman.
It is an honor to meet you.
I am Tim Drake-Luthor, and I would like to become your new Robin.”
Batman remained silent.
But Tim didn’t pause, continuing with rehearsed seriousness:
“Allow me to list my reasons and qualifications…”
“My IQ is 190. I can analyze eighty percent of Gotham’s crime scenes before the news agencies.
Additionally, I discovered your identity on my own. I did not use GPS or external assistance.”
“I am fluent in three languages besides English—French, Japanese, and Russian. I am currently learning Mandarin.
This gives me an advantage when tracking international criminal networks.”
“I’ve trained in Aikido, Jujutsu, Krav Maga, Capoeira, and basic parkour.
Not as advanced as yours yet, but I learn fast.”
“I breached your WayneTech firewall in two weeks.
Of course, not with bad intentions… just to show a system vulnerability.”
“I have high resistance to sleeplessness, stress, and fear.
I’m used to fieldwork — I have no family.
And… my mentor Luthor might be a little difficult, but I can handle him.”
Batman remained silent.
But the corners of his lips twitched slightly — was it a smile, or just a nerve spasm? No one was sure.
Tim stood tall.
“Finally, I might be 16, and yes, I know I could die.
But I still want to do this.”
Tim said all of this completely seriously.
Yet, standing there, with his wind-tousled hair, pale skin, and reddened ear tips… at 1.73 meters, he looked more adorable than serious.
Conner hovered in the air, his eyes shining with happiness as he watched them.
Then suddenly, he shouted at Batman and Nightwing:
“LOOK! HE’S PERFECT! ACCEPT HIM AS ROBIN!”
Nightwing immediately came alive, his eyes sparkling like hearts.
He leapt to Tim and scooped him into his arms.
“Awww, oh my gosh, look at that seriousness! Look at that cuteness! This kid is amazing! B, please keep him! I want him as my little brother! Please, please, pleaaase!”
Dick’s hidden “emotional big brother hormone” kicked in at full speed.
Tim looked at Nightwing with pride swelling in his chest.
His CV had worked! He could get the job!
Meanwhile, Batman, standing by the Batcomputer, exhaled deeply.
His eyelids twitched involuntarily, sensing a migraine forming.
No… he had just returned from a mission with his eldest son.
And now… Clark’s son had arrived with a child carrying the Luthor name of his former friend.
His son was shouting to make this child his “brother!”
And the child… knew his true identity.
Bruce had only one wish:
For no one to find him for a week.
No one.
At that moment, Lex was losing his mind. He was in a meeting, having left Tim alone in his office to “mess with projects” (or, rather, play around).
Then Echo, his AI, told him that his adoptive son had been kidnapped! And—by none other than his genetic son! Lex froze for a moment, stunned, then left the meeting abruptly and ran to his office. The cold silence created by the empty room made the veins on his forehead bulge:
“CONNER LUTHOR-KENT! YOU’RE DEFINITELY IN TROUBLE!”
Lex yelled into the void, losing his mind, but honestly, he was sure his genetic son had heard everything. He didn’t know why Conner had taken Tim, but he swore he’d resolve it immediately.
“Echo! Activate the Kryptonite satellites immediately!” (Luthor had no intention of explaining why he even had such satellites.)
Echo’s voice came with a playful tone: “As you wish, Luthor.”
Lex planted his feet more firmly, waiting impatiently. After a fifteen-minute wait, Echo spoke again:
“Kryptonite detected. Conner Luthor-Kent’s location identified. City: Gotham. Exact location encountered an issue; the highest-tech hub has automatically initiated a call.”
Lex frowned at the symbol appearing on the screen and muttered through clenched teeth: “Oh, wonderful…”
---
Meanwhile, in the cave, everyone was gathered on couches and chairs. Conner and Dick sat on Tim’s right and left; both were doting on him.
Dick ruffled Tim’s hair with big-brotherly care, while Conner held his hand and whispered softly to him. Alfred, serving tea, had a slight, discreet smile at the corner of his lips.
Bruce? Bruce had already mentally drafted plans to adopt Tim. If anyone asked, “How did you decide to adopt him in 15 minutes?” Bruce would say, “I kept the child close and ensured he caused no problems for the family and kept their identities safe.” But inwardly, he thought: I see myself in this child.
Tim couldn’t stay still—his CV had worked, and he was going to be ROBIN! He had always dreamed of being Robin, and this time, it was serious.
Then, a slight look of forgetfulness appeared on his face—like I feel like I forgot something—and at that moment, a call came from the Batcomputer: the LexCorp logo lit up the screen. Tim noticed Conner trembling beside him.
“Ah… we forgot this,” he muttered to himself.
Bruce furrowed his brows, opening the call like Batman would—but before he could speak, Lex’s shouting blared through:
“CONNER LUTHOR-KENT! WHY DID YOU KIDNAP MY ADOPTIVE SON AND MY STUDENT! EXPLAIN YOURSELF IMMEDIATELY, YOUNG MAN, OTHERWISE YOU WILL GET INTO BIG TROUBLE.”
Tim, as if foreseeing this, covered his ears within seconds. Others weren’t so lucky: Conner’s ears hurt, Dick choked on his tea, Alfred raised an eyebrow, and Bruce’s words got stuck in his throat.
Lex, on screen, now turned his furious glare to Bruce:
“And you, WAYNE! How dare you participate in the kidnapping of my mentee!”
Bruce’s expression was the classic oh, not again?; he had no time to think. One thought occupied his mind: Why does everyone in front of me know my secret identity? Why does my old friend and Clark’s ex—and now a villain—have to know?
Bruce started: “Luthor…” but the word got cut off.
Lex, in his usual proud yet visibly trembling tone:
“NO—DON’T YOU DARE CALL ME LUTHOR, BRUCE! AND DON’T EVEN THINK OF DENYING IT! I’M NOT STUPID, AND I WILL COME BACK TO YOU!”
Lex then turned to Tim, concern evident:
“Tim, are you okay, my son? I just left you alone in my office for an hour—how did this happen?”
Conner tried his best to hide behind Tim; he had never seen his other father this angry in a long time. Perhaps it was a bit unfair, but it didn’t matter now.
Tim burst out excitedly:
“Papa Lex!”
Luthor’s brow twitched involuntarily at the name. Tim continued:
“I joined the Robin interview, and soon I’ll officially be Robin! Isn’t that amazing?”
Lex’s mouth dropped open, stammering: “W-wait, what?? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?”
Tim seized the opportunity—while Lex was in shock, he added another:
“Oh, and Con and I have been dating,” Tim said. “I know—he’s your genetic son, and I’m your mentee and a sort-of adoptive son, but technically we’re not blood-related, and I’m a Drake, so yes, I’m dating Conner, Papa Lex.”
The cave went silent. Conner, mouth agape, stared at Tim. Lex looked between Tim and Conner:
“You… wait… Conner… WHAT DID YOU SAY??? WHO ARE YOU DATING?”
Tim, calm, shrugged and added:
“Yes, I’m dating him, and I love him. But usually you meddle so much in relationships and ruin them unintentionally, so I didn’t want to tell you. Also, Conner kidnapped me for the Robin interview! so don't scolded him.”
Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, murmuring softly:
“That wasn’t an interview, and you’re still not Robin…”
Before Bruce could finish, two voices rose in different tones; one was Tim, sad:
“Did I fail the Robin interview or…”
and the other Lex, shouting:
“WHO ARE YOU TO DENY MY SON FROM BEING ROBIN?”
Bruce sighed again, exasperated. Randomly accepting young people and calls needed to stop…
Finally, in a weary but determined voice:
“I mean, we need to adopt Tim first and train him to see if he’s suitable for Robin. Throwing him into crime-fighting immediately is too dangerous.”
Dick, meanwhile, leapt up joyfully:
“HURRAY! A NEW BROTHER!”
Without missing a beat, he hugged Tim tightly:
“You’re my little brother now, Timmy! Welcome to the family!”
Conner joined happily:
“You did it, Tim! You’re going to be a Robin!”
Tim rolled his eyes amid the hugs but inwardly, he was thrilled. He just tried not to show it.
Then, Lex’s shrill, angry voice echoed through the cave speakers:
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE TAKING CUSTODY?! TIM IS UNDER MY CUSTODY! HOW DARE YOU, BRUCE, TAKE HIM FROM ME, I’LL DESTROY YOU!”
Tim’s eyes widened—he remembered something huge…
Papa Lex had developed trauma after losing Conner’s custody to Clark. He had become even more possessive than before — in fact, he had already entered the psychological category of “separation anxiety”. (But this was still a controversial issue.)
Now hearing Bruce wanted it… Lex’s nervous system was about to blow.
Bruce and Lex were already in a verbal duel.
Bruce, serious and cold:
“You’re having a negative influence on him.I'm sure you're teaching him things like how to take over the world! I’m taking custody from you!”
Lex, choking, because yes, technically he had taught Tim some things but didn’t back down:
“You’re already collecting kids like street dogs, Wayne! I won’t let you do the same to mine! I can educate him better! Find another kid, you emo jerk!”
Bruce’s eyebrow twitched at the nickname. The emo phase… still a nightmare.That period when Luthor himself was a witness... It was a separate source of shame.
Bruce replied mockingly:
“Hah! Said the Red witch! Oh, sorry… you’re no longer the red witch! I’m sure you taught Tim how to dye hair and go bald successfully!”
“YOU! HOW DARE—!”
And thus, the world’s greatest detective and Metropolis’ smartest villain entered a childish argument.
In the background, Alfred quietly shepherded the youngsters toward the manor with a subtle smile.
Dick whispered, eyes wide:
“Alfred… B is acting like a kid and arguing with Lex? Am I dreaming? Is he really B?”
Alfred chuckled softly:
“Ah, young master, that’s definitely Master Bruce.”
Tim blinked several times:
“Were they… always like this?”
Alfred, nostalgic:
“Absolutely. But their arguments are less intense than before.”
Conner looked back at the two adults verbally tearing each other apart:
“Are we sure this is ‘less intense’?”
Alfred nodded knowingly, barely hiding a smirk.
Then, the cave echoed with Bruce’s angry voice:
“CLARK! GO GET THAT EX-RED WITCH OF YOURS!”
Lex’s voice exploded immediately after:
“How dare you—”
Then a sudden shock in Lex’s tone:
“HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?! DAMN IT, YOU VIOLATED THIS OFFICE! GET OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW, DAMN ALIEN!”
There were sounds of scuffling… then Clark’s tired yet still affectionate voice:
“Sorry for the trouble, Bruce. I’ll talk to him…”
Lex’s voice escalated:
“WHO ARE YOU TO TALK TO ME?! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, CHILD-STEALER!”
Clark, helpless:
“Lex, how many times do I have to tell you? I didn't kidnap Conner! I got custody because… you weren’t fit to care for him!”
“HAH! HOW DO YOU KNOW I WAS NOT FIT?! YOU’RE JUST A STUPID ALIEN! GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!”
Bruce’s voice carried faint amusement:
“Seriously, I still don’t understand why he’s dating you. Must be the hair.”
Clark sighed:
“Bruce, you’re not helping…”
Lex exploded:
“WHAT DID YOU SAY, WAYNE?! I WILL RUIN YOU! EMO KID! ECHO, INITIATE WAR AGAINST WAYNE INDUSTRIES!”
Clark tried to intervene:
“Lexy, Bruce didn’t mean that—”
“DON’T YOU DARE CALL ME THAT! ECHO, WHERE’S MY KRYPTONITE SWORD?!”
Clark’s voice rose an octave:
“WHERE IS YOUR WHAT?!”
---
But the kids didn’t hear the rest of the argument; they had already taken the elevator upstairs.
Tim turned to his boyfriend, raising an eyebrow:
“Just so you know, you probably just started a war between two major industries. You caused a legal battle over my custody. And probably even got the other dad hurt with his Kryptonite sword.”
Tim took a deep breath:
“All just to keep me out of Villain things and make me a Robin…”
Conner shivered at the sequence of events but then flashed his usual infuriating yet endearing grin:
“But it’s all worth it for you, Timmy. No matter what, I’ll do anything for you.”
Tim’s ears flushed lightly:
“You’re such a dork.”
Conner grinned, leaning closer:
“Awww, are you blushing, Timmy?”
“NO!”
“Oh, yes~~”
“NO, I’M NOT!”
“You are, though~”
“EHM!”
Dick interrupted with a fake cough:
“Yes, sweethearts, did you notice you’re in the elevator?”
Conner and Tim turned bright red simultaneously but didn’t let go of each other’s hands.
Dick leaned back, smirking:
“There’s nothing that can save this house anymore.”
.
.
.
.
.
.
BONUS SCENE:
Three months later
Three months had passed since Tim aced the Robin interview. Technically, he was still in the middle of the custody battle. Papa Lex and B (Tim had started following Dick’s lead and had begun calling him “B”) were still clashing over him and would probably reach a conclusion soon—at least everyone hoped. But Tim wasn’t too bothered. The moments in Wayne Manor in Gotham had turned out far more fun than he expected.
Currently, Tim was technically a Intership Robin, and he was confident that it would soon become official; B was impressed by his skills. Even Jason had started to like him. (Tim was still unsure when to tell Jason he was Red Robin—initially he planned to, but events kept getting in the way. Plus, technically, he had “kidnapped” Jason in the process, but he still didn’t know how to explain… Eventually he would… probably.)
Everything was great. His only issue now was the somber Papa Lex.
Tim was playing chess with him, moving his knight with a slight chuckle:
“Don’t be so grumpy, Papa Lex~ Look, I sneaked out of the manor just to see you!” (Tim did this often.)
Lex responded grumpily:
“You wouldn’t have had to do that if you were under my custody initially, but Emo Wayne decided to pluck you right under my nose.”
Tim chuckled, moving his queen:
“Don’t look at it that way, Papa Lex. Actually, it’s like an exchange program for me! Very fun! Think of it as going to a neighboring city for studying!”
Lex just grunted and moved his king.
Tim chuckled and spoke in a gentler tone:
“You know I won’t leave you. You’ll always be my Papa Lex.”
Lex paused for a moment, then continued to grumble, his voice softer this time:
“What do you think I am, kid? Don't say the obvious.”
Tim laughed, skillfully moving his queen to corner Lex’s king:
“Even if you lose custody, I’ll still come to you, don’t worry. Checkmate!”
Lex screamed in a high-pitched voice:
“YOU UNGRATEFUL CHILD! HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT?! I WILL NEVER LOSE CUSTODY!”
Tim chuckled as Lex plotted schemes against B in the background, smiling, looking out at the sky through the window—a sky as blue as his boyfriend’s eyes....
“Hmm~ I guess boredom’s not really an option anymore.”
