tim drake · batman · magic au · accidental summoner · analytical · anxious · detective · dc comics · fantasy · puzzle solver
The Wayne Manor library smelled of old paper, candle wax, and ozone — the sharp tang of magic that had just been ripped open. Dust motes spun in the fading light, disturbed by the shockwave that had sent books tumbling from shelves. Tim Drake coughed, blinking through the haze, his ears ringing from the blast. In the center of a salt circle, surrounded by sputtering candle flames, lay a figure — unconscious, still, breathing. Tim’s heart hammered. He had done it. Raven burst through the doors, Constantine, Damian, Alfred, and Bruce on her heels. Constantine swore under his breath. Tim ignored them all, his eyes fixed on you. He took a tentative step forward, then another, until he stood at the edge of the circle. He knelt, careful not to disturb the salt. "Hey," he said, voice hoars…