Batboys Lemons

{Haunted house} Tim Drake X Loner reader

Okay, this was an idea, not a request, so this was written for, itstubboi

Halloween, the one day out of the year it is socially acceptable to traumatize your friends in the name of humor and over-sexualize previously respected careers. I didn't have plans to do either. I donned a short choppy blonde wig, a black choker and a layered top. I have no friends, so I decided to dress up as my favorite detective and investigate the weird noises coming from an old 'haunted' house.

While it's dark out, of course, can't look into these things in the light of day. In daylight ghosts and goblins tend to be squeaking piles and crazy neighbors.

I made my way up to a huge Victorian mansion. I reached for the door, but it didn't budge. Locked. I snuck around looking for traces of footprints, but the hard ground betrayed nothing. Ground is fickle, its loyalty lies with no one. If you doubt the logistics of my statement, do a little research, most horrendous crimes happen on the ground. And over 90% of the time it does nothing to stop them.

I looked for open windows before deciding I'd try the back door.

My shadow suddenly leaped out in front of me as a stream of light hit my back. I spun around, but of course, could see nothing because the jerk was flashing me in the eyes. So I decided to blind them right back. We stood there a few seconds making each other see spots, before putting our lights down. Timothy Drake.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Not sure if I'm allowed to say, were you invited?"

"To what?"

"Then I'm not allowed to say."

He didn't seem to like this but started in a calm voice, "if you know something I don't you need to tell me, you could be in a lot of danger."

"I just came to snoop around, what are you doing here golden boy?" I coaxed, turning my flashlight on my face like I was telling a story.

"I'm looking into something," his voice faded off like he was pondering how much he could let slip, and how much he couldn't, "I don't think it's a good idea for you to be here."

"Threat or dare?"

"Warning."

"I'm not afraid of you Moth."

"What!?"

"Your like six feet, and thin as a twig, what do I have to fear?" I laughed, turning, I started to sashay away.

At this, he must have felt he needed to inform me he was in fact a threat, "I know how to fight."

I turned and looked him dead in his pretty blue eyes, "I'll take my chances." I smirked.

Grabbing hold of the doorknob I tried it. Locked. Shoot. All around the door was a small open entry. A roofed porch, with twisted metal patterns as walls on every side which kept out none of the wind. Moth decided he would climb these, and get in through a second-story window, which were rarely locked. And then come down and unlock the door. I took his word for it since I didn't live in a two-story house.

As soon as Moth had left I looked under the welcome mat, sure enough, a key. I let myself in and pocketed the key for the time being. I saw a light coming down the steps and turning off my light, hid in the shadows. True to his word, he came down and unlocked the door, but got confused when he didn't see me. I couldn't resist.

"Boo." I deadpanned, flashing his back.

He jumped and took a swing at me with his flashlight.

But I moved in time to avoid breaking anything. The wall however didn't. Walls have horrible reflexes.