#i got Kon on lock though

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

The painful thing is that Young Justice 100% exists in this au but saying literally anything about them would completely spoil the entirety of the Titan's plotlines.

Cept maybe for Kon.... yeaaaaaaaaah... pretty sure his stuff would be unrelated

#so much shit happening with Bart and Cassie #it's an au so i did some... creative things with their origins #still fine tuning Tim's whole deal #i got Kon on lock though #titans fantasy au #very excited about Bart's plotline(s) because there's a lot to play around with #im also putting a lot of effort into Donna and Cassie because they get extremely underdeveloped in canon and fanon #Donna's storyline is kick ass rn and it feeds perfectly into Cassie's which in very excited about #Tim is a sickly victorian child... but thats enough about canon comics. I GOT JOKES FOR DAYS

[incorrectbatfam]

Tim and stpeh’s top ten patrol fails

——— (10) ———

Tim and Steph: *chained together*

Two-Face: *monologues*

Tim: *picks the lock*

Steph, whispering: Free me first.

Tim: Why?

Steph: Just do it.

Tim: *frees her*

Steph: *sprints past Two-Face to the bathroom*

——— (9) ———

Steph: I'm closing in on the museum. Where are you?

Tim: ETA one minute.

Steph: Alright, I'm doing a quick perimeter check. Doesn't seem like there's much happening here.

Tim: Where are you? I don't see you. And this entire gallery looks deserted.

Steph: I've never heard anyone call a science museum a gallery.

Tim: Science? I'm at the modern art museum.

Steph: Red?

Tim: Yeah?

Steph: We're both at the wrong place, aren't we?

——— (8) ———

Tim and Steph: *tied to chairs*

Ivy: I gave the city ONE REASONABLE DEMAND and they—

Steph: *scoots her chair*

Ivy: —but all they cared about was—

Steph: *scoots her chair*

Ivy: So now I'm going to make them pay for—what are you doing?

Steph, biting an apple: ...

Tim: She gets snacky.

——— (7) ———

[on a stakeout]

Tim, stifling a yawn: What time is it?

Steph: Half past one. Still nothing on the drop site. If you need some shut eye you can tell me.

Tim: Nah, I'll just use my phone.

Steph: *peers over his shoulder*

Steph: You're reading an adopted by Batman AU?

Tim: ...I was hacked. Just right now.

——— (6) ———

Steph: I could use a little backup.

Tim, shooting his grapple: I'm on my way. How many are there?

Steph: Four, though I bet more are hiding.

Tim: In that case, we better get you out of there instead of wasting time.

Tim: *swings by*

Tim: Grab on.

Steph: *grabs his legs and pulls his pants down*

——— (5) ———

Tim: What should I call my next contingency plan?

Steph: Fuck if I know.

[later]

Barbara: Alright, Tim, let's review your plan for...

Barbara: *squints*

Barbara: Everybody leave. I want to talk to Tim alone.

——— (4) ———

Tim: I'm not so sure about my disguise.

Steph, dressed like the 1980s: It's an 80s-themed roller derby. No way you can mess that up.

Tim: *shows up dressed like the 1880s*

Steph: I stand corrected.

——— (3) ———

Steph: You need to put that computer down. Have a Batburger.

Tim: No. I've almost got it. And don't try to distract me 'cause I've seen everything.

Steph, whispering under her breath: You haven't seen Superboy.

Kon: You called?

Tim: Oh for crying out loud.

——— (2) ———

Tim: *driving the Batmobile*

Steph: Hey, what does this button do?

Tim: NO DON'T THAT—

Steph: *hits the button*

Tim: *gets ejected*

——— (1) ———

Steph: Another successful patrol, if I say so myself.

Tim: All in a night's work.

Bruce: Where's Damian?

Tim: Huh?

Bruce: You were supposed to watch him.

Steph: Pfft, we knew that. He's right... uh...

Tim: We're just gonna—

Tim and Steph: *hop in the car and speed away*

——— (Honorable mention) ———

Steph: No sign of Robin at the dog shelter either. Did you locate his tracker?

Tim: It's offline. Best case scenario he just disabled it, but...

Steph: Oh God, we are in so much trouble.

Tim: Any other ideas?

Steph: Nope. I'm gonna get a drink of water real quick.

Steph: *goes into a store*

Steph: *comes back out with Damian*

Steph: Guess who I found trying to buy a butterfly knife?

Tim: I'll update Batman.

Tim, on the phone: Hey B, guess what?

Damian: *snatches the phone*

Damian: They abandoned me in Crime Alley!

Bruce: Red Robin, Spoiler, you're cleaning the lockers when you get back.

Tim: No wait—

Damian: *hangs up*

#tim drake #red robin #stephanie brown #spoiler #bruce wayne #batman #damian wayne #robin #barbara gordon #oracle #conner kent #superboy #two face #poison ivy #batfamily #batfam #batboys #batbros #batgirls #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #young justice #timsteph #incorrect batfamily quotes #incorrect quotes #incorrect dc quotes #dc comics #headcanon #long post

[suzukiblu]

Tim?

Tim did not actually mean to kidnap an alternate reality's version of Kon.

In his defense, he'd had very limited time in that reality and everything in it had been going to shit and . . . well, everything in it had been going to shit.

Also, Lex Luthor had been a lot more heavily involved in that particular reality's Cadmus, and fuck it if Tim was ever going to leave any version of Kon with that bastard.

With any bastard who could ever look at Kon and call him "it".

"Ow," Tim grunts into the dirty pavement of what he hopes is his own Gotham as blood drips out of his mouth, and feels Kon's fingertips brush very, very tentatively against his back. He's a little too dizzy to lift his head, but he figures it doesn't matter. Like it's just . . . it's fine. They're not in Cadmus and Kon is safe and Tim is . . . conscious, at least, which means he can work with the situation.

Whatever the situation actually is, anyway.

Kon's hands flatten against his back, which is a very familiar tell, and Tim immediately feels the even more familiar embrace of TTK wrapping him up.

Less familiar is the impulse to find said embrace adorable, but in Tim's defense, this Kon is physiologically about ten years old and so far every single thing he's done has been either adorable or heartbreaking or some terrible combination of the two.

"Robin?" Kon asks anxiously. "You're okay, right?"

"M'okay," Tim mumbles blurrily, because it's more or less true. More blood drips out of his mouth and splatters on the pavement. "All okay. S'fine. You hurt?"

"No," Kon says, still sounding nervous. "Dunno where we are, though."

"Should be Gotham," Tim says, forcing himself to lift his head enough to check and nearly laughing as he recognizes their surroundings as the exact part of Crime Alley that he got interdimensionally yanked out of seventy-six hours ago. "Yeah. Gotham."

He pushes himself up enough to look over at Kon. Kon looks very small crouched down next to him with buzzed-down hair, barefoot in pristine white lab scrubs with a shiny metal cuff stamped with an identification number locked around his wrist. "13" features prominently on it.

Tim wants to melt it into slag.

"Is it your Gotham?" Kon asks.

"No clue, but I'm hoping," Tim says. He thinks about getting to his feet but he's pretty sure he'd throw up if he tried. Or fall over. Or both?

Probably both, at this point.

Oh well, he figures, and pushes himself up. He doesn't vomit, surprisingly, although he is very definitely sure that Kon's TTK is the only thing keeping him from falling over.

No reason to look that particular gift horse in the mouth, Tim decides.

"I need coffee," he says as he gives Kon's shoulder an appreciative pat, because the caffeine withdrawal is real. Also he needs medical attention, probably, but also-also he needs to come up with either a cover story for the ER or an explanation for Bruce and therefore caffeine can't hurt.

"Uh, okay," Kon says skeptically. "I don't think Starbucks or anything is gonna be open right now, though, it's pretty late."

"God, what did Cadmus teach you, kid," Tim says despairingly, making a face at the thought. "Starbucks is a punishment from God. We're going to the nearest twenty-four diner and I'm ordering roofing tar. And we're getting you a hot chocolate. Do you want a hot chocolate?"

". . . yeah," Kon says, biting his lip. "Um. I mean, I dunno if I'd like it, though."

"If you don't like it, we'll get you something else," Tim says. "But I haven't slept or eaten properly since I left my reality and I need coffee before it becomes a legitimate medical emergency."

"Shouldn't you get, like, real food, then?" Kon asks skeptically. "Not just coffee?"

"Coffee is food," Tim lies reflexively.

". . . I don't think it is," Kon says, squinting up at him suspiciously. "Are you taking advantage of me being too stupid to know if coffee's food or not?"

". . . we can get something to go," Tim says, wishing he'd blown up a bit more of Cadmus on his way out of that fucking cesspool of a reality. "You're not stupid. Luthor can choke on a fucking cactus for all the shit he kept saying to you."

"I mean, I didn't come out right," Kon says uncomfortably. "I'm not as smart as Dadd–as Lex is. Or as Superman was."

Tim pretends that Kon wasn't about to say "Daddy" for both their sakes. Just . . . yeah. At least for the moment, anyway.

Luthor was a lot more heavily involved in that Cadmus.

And horrifyingly.

Tim tries not to think about the way that Luthor had kept touching Kon. All the little too-deliberate points of contact he'd made time and again and too often.

Much too often.

Tim hadn't seen anyone else even so much as enter Kon's personal space the entire time he'd been in that godforsaken lab, and every single time that Luthor had made a gesture like he might touch him, Kon had tensed in something that couldn't decide between being fear or anticipation.

It'd made Tim want to burn the whole fucking lab and every single LexCorp-owned building he could find to the ground.

He'd settled for interdimensionally kidnapping Kon and destroying all of Cadmus's systems and DNA samples as thoroughly as possible. C-4 had been involved.

A lot of C-4 had been involved.

Possibly that had been a slight overreaction, but fuck if Tim cares. Just–Clark had still been dead, and Cassie hadn't had powers and Bart hadn't been in the time period and Tim himself hadn't even existed, for whatever reason, and apparently neither had Cissie or Greta or Anita or Slobo, and Bruce had already had his hands full with Damian and Dick had been off-planet and Jason had also still been dead and just–

Options had been limited, alright?

Options had been limited, and by that point Tim hadn't had time to go check and see what the Kents were up to or track down Lois Lane or Jimmy Olsen or even just tip off the Justice League or the Titans, because by that point he'd been in an examination room with a Lex Luthor who was stroking a frightened Kon's face with one hand while holding a syringe that was glowing kryptonite-green with the other and Tim had just . . . he'd just made some choices at that point, okay?

He'd made some very decisive choices.

And some very decisive commitments.

Or at least one very decisive commitment, anyway.

#dc robin #tim drake #superboy #kon el #conner kent #rinfic #anonymous #long post #implied molestation #implied abuse #wip: interdimensional kidnapping via robin

[mysterycitrus]

You’ve talked about how fandom treats jtodd & dick, so what are your thoughts on how fandom treats dick & tim?

There’s this post that’s asking about people’s batfamily hot takes, and I was scrolling through the reblogs bc I love drama. One of the “hot takes” was calling dick a bad brother bc of the bruce lost in time comic era. Specifically saying that fandom excuses dick’s shitty behavior towards Tim bc his dad (Bruce) died and because of the stress of taking care of the city by himself. While Tim was hurting because of the deaths of Kon, Bart, Jack, Steph, and Donna (idk why they included Donna as Tim’s grief and not Dick’s??) and therefore Tim’s & Dick’s hurt and stress aren’t the same. According to this person, Tim was going through it and Dick was making it worse.

Now, I’m not going to claim I know how everything went down since I haven’t read those comics yet, but this feels like a gross misunderstanding of the arc.

From what I’ve seen, fandom tends to invalidate and villainize Dick during this time in favor of Tim. Dick is not being excused, in fact he’s being blamed for things that are either not his fault or just made up in order to whump Tim. Idk that “hot take” just rubbed me the wrong way because of how one-sided it was, and I guess it made me wonder about your thoughts about Dick & Tim since I tend to agree with your opinions lmao

fundamentally the issue is this — dick grayson existing and being a good person is an obstacle for fanon angst. dick grayson being a good brother means that jtodd can’t just slot into his pre-existing relationships with tim and cass and damian. dick grayson being a good friends means that he’s close with the titans and the league because he’s competent and trusted. dick grayson being kind means that he didn’t abandon tim, he was literally trying to keep everything together after bruce’s death.

not to try and make it a grief olympics but as much as people talk about everyone tim has lost (and i think they must have been talking about dana winters in that post?) people seem to forget that dick’s city just got nuked + the fallout of nightwing 93 + donna dying + jade dying + the titans falling apart + he was just locked in arkham himself. like… his dad has just died, he’s had to fight off his brother who’d just tried to kill both tim and damian and been given custody over a kid who doesn’t trust him

red robin 2009 has done irreversible harm to tim drakes character. people using that as the starting point for reading about him is bad. it’s a comic about a grief spiral, and it isn’t an amazing depiction of him either. but even then, people just seem to love straight up fabricating what’s in it.

dick tells tim that therapy might be a good idea. tim tells dick that he’s leaving because he trusts dick to let him do what he needs to do. even at his lowest point, dick is who he trusts most. those takes that’re like “tim drake was at his lowest point and then jtodd sees him and realises that he’s cool actually and they bond #jasontoddisagoodbrother #dickgraysonisabadbrother etc” because they like to posit that dick threatened to throw tim in arkham are so silly

that’s even ignoring how people just straight up lie about damian’s actions and how weird everyone is about ra’s al ghul. no, tim isn’t the only one he refers to as detective aside from bruce. no, tim isn’t one step away from being a mass murderer. no, damian didn’t try to kill tim— he was reacting to tim being suspicious of him. tim was beefing with a ten year old. why are u being so mean to the ten year old? (We Know Why)

ur right — it is extremely one-sided. im not one to pretend that canon is flawless by any means, but acting as though fanon is better just because someone online came up with it is also stupid. there are many many racist undertones with how jtodd and tim are interpreted, both separately and with each other. a lot of it is yaoi baiting dynamics, that a lot of fans don’t seem to want to admit. i won’t comment on how white people writing jtodd as latino and tim as asian can be Bad but like…. it’s all tied up together. people want these two characters to have suffered the most, because that justifies everything fans want them to do. they want them to be wronged. they want their idea of justice in their name

#does that make sense? Idk #dick grayson #dc comics #anti batfanon #the ask and the answer

[mamawasatesttube]

49. “Who hurt you?”. Please.

Lightning flashes. The wind drives rain into the windows by the bucketful. The world outside is a blur, all the city lights in the night blending into a watery mess. To anyone else, it might even be beautiful, even if it is Gotham.

Tim scowls and draws the throw blanket around his shoulders tighter. It’s not beautiful; it’s stupid and annoying and loud. It’s the middle of the night, and the thunder keeps rattling him down to the bones, and Cass is out there somewhere wrangling the Penguin, and Tim is stuck on his ass on the sofa in a haze of painkillers and frustration.

The TV blares on, news coverage that doesn’t actually tell him anything about what he wants to know. He’s supposed to be resting, but resting just makes him antsy. Even with the meds, his ankle hurts, a dull throb radiating up his whole leg, and all the bruises on his back and ribs ache.

Another flash of lightning lights up the room, bright as day. Tim glares at the TV as if it can quell the storm. A low rumble of thumber rolls through the sky, distant and ominous. Then, closer—

CRACKABOOM!

The lamp on the table flickers; the TV blacks out for a second. Tim sucks in a breath. If the power goes out, he swears…

He glances at his phone again. Nothing—Cassie stopped texting back and went to bed hours ago. Even Bart is asleep. Just great.

Lightning flashes—

There’s a shape on the balcony, a tall, dark silhouette reaching for the door. Light glints from its eyes, focused directly on Tim.

Adrenaline surges through Tim’s body. He scrambles away from the back of the couch, grabbing for the collapsible staff on the side table. His right ankle can’t take any weight, but he—

Oh. Wait.

Kon lets himself in silently, hovering an inch or so off the floor. He’s completely dry. The door slides shut with a hiss behind him, and the locks click back into place on their own.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re worse than Bruce,” Tim groans. The adrenaline fades as fast as it came, and his busted ankle sends a wave of nauseating pain up his leg as he sinks back down, wincing. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”

Still, his heart lifts. Kon’s been in space for two weeks; he said he’d probably be back in three, so this is a pleasant surprise. Tim’s missed him.

Kon drifts around the sofa, oddly quiet. Tim looks up at him and sees that Kon’s studying his ankle, then examining his ribs; the distant look in his eyes is a dead giveaway that he’s looking through Tim, X-ray vision and all. There’s an unnerving stillness to him, and Tim frowns.

Kon settles next to him. Leans in, cups his chin. Turns his face to the light. Tim almost winces again; the bruise on his jaw is still swollen, even though he’s been icing it. Kon’s hand, by contrast, is delightfully warm. He leans into his touch with a sigh, letting his tired eyes close.

“…Who hurt you?” Kon finally asks, his voice dangerously calm. Something in the set of his shoulders makes him look unnervingly like Superman.

Tim’s mood sours. He doesn’t want to think about his mistakes right now. “Some of Penguin’s goons,” he mutters, tugging his blanket around himself again. “It was my own fault. I got cocky. And before you try to go be all scary at them, Cass is already kicking their asses, so don’t bother.”

Kon’s quiet for a moment. Then he sighs, scrubbing his free hand over his face, and all the tension in his body drains away. He doesn’t look like a terrifying alien juggernaut contemplating holy vengeance anymore; he just looks tired.

“I leave for two weeks—not even two weeks! Twelve days!—and come back to you in pieces,” he complains. His TTK wraps around Tim’s waist and hips, then down to his thighs, like a harness. He lifts Tim into his lap, keeping his leg stable, and gently wraps his arms around him. He presses his face into Tim’s neck, and Tim tucks his nose into his hair. He smells like the rain.

“I’m not in pieces,” Tim says belatedly, winding his arms around Kon’s neck. He’s missed this. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Your ankle is, to use the technical term, fuckenated, and you have two cracked ribs,” Kon says. His lips brush Tim’s collarbone.

“My ankle will be fine after a few weeks. And cracked doesn’t mean broken.” Tim slips his arms under Kon’s jacket, curls them into the fabric of his suit, warm from his body. It’s a lot easier to relax now, in Kon’s arms. “I’ll be fine.”

Kon blows out a breath. He presses a warm, tender kiss to the pulse point just below Tim’s ear, lingering. His lips are soft, Tim’s pulse fluttering under his skin, and a pleasant little shiver runs down Tim’s spine.

“I missed you,” Kon says quietly. I was worried about you, and it looks like I was right to be, he doesn’t say. I always worry when I leave you. Like you always worry when you leave me.

Tim tightens his fingers in the back of his suit. “I missed you, too.” He doesn’t need to say that he can handle himself, that he’s made of tough stuff, that he’s had worse and bounced back just fine. Kon knows. That’s why Kon didn’t say he was worried, even though they both know he was.

Besides, between the two of them, Tim’s not the one who’s gone off and died before, so there. That always puts an end to the conversation they aren’t having, in Tim’s mind. Lightning flashes outside; the thunderclap is loud enough that Tim winces, and poor Kon flinches in his arms.

“Must’ve been a long flight. You look exhausted,” Tim says, pressing a kiss into Kon’s hair.

“Yeah, and you should be asleep,” Kon murmurs, brushing his lips against Tim’s jaw. “It’s late.”

Tim shrugs halfheartedly. He should have gone to bed forever ago, yeah, but why do that when he could sit here, stare at the news, and seethe at the storm?

Bed doesn’t sound nearly as bad now that Kon’s back, though. He sighs, takes one hand from Kon’s back to twine his fingers into his curls. The shaved fuzz on the back of Kon’s head is soft under his palm.

“I was waiting for you to come home and carry me to bed,” he says. A tiny, wry half-smile tugs at his mouth. “Since, y’know, my ankle is fuckenated.”

Kon’s lips twitch against his neck. “Well, when you put it that way,” he says, and shifts Tim in his arms as he floats them both into the air. “Your carriage awaits.”

“Mm,” Tim agrees. It’s his turn to tuck his face into Kon’s neck. “…I’m glad you’re back.”

Kon lets out a soft sigh. “Yeah,” he agrees, leaning his cheek against Tim’s hair. “Me too.”

#rimi writes #astranova13 #timkon #maybe ill neaten this up tomorrow and do something more with it. for now................ sleeby #tim #kon

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 3

Again the winner of last week's poll! There won't be a poll this week because I'm planning something a bit different. I hit 1000 followers this past week and have been wracking my brain about how to celebrate! Wasn't up for doing prompts or adding more projects to my list, though, so I didn't want to go that route.

But I did come up with something that I think everyone will really enjoy. Especially those of you who have been voting for Carry Your Heart (I see you in the tags!). So look out for that post.

In addition, I've just posted the first chapter of Arc 2 on AO3! Link below.

Story Summary: Jack and Maddie install a new ghost shield on the house which activates the moment Danny tries to step into his home. His secret is out and his parents are determined to excise the ghost from their son.

Luckily Danny isn't alone. The Young Justice, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz aren't going to leave him to suffer.

Arc 1: AO3

Arc 2: AO3 (incomplete); Tumblr - First, Final

Arc 3: First, Previous

Word Count: 1.4k

-----

Fire rushing through him jolted Danny awake. His back arched as he cried out. He screwed his eyes tight, not wanting to see what torture his parents were going to come at him with next when he realized what the sound of his cry meant: the muzzle was gone.

As were the restraints. And he was lying on something soft. Trying hard not to hope, he opened his eyes.

Sam and Jazz were leaning over him, concern clear on their faces. They were in some sort of ambulance or van.

“How are you feeling,” demanded Sam.

Danny took a moment to answer, his chest was pure agony. He didn’t even want to think what it would feel like to sit up. And even past that, everything was sore. Though the fire that had woken him up had dissipated, the tell-tale feel of ecto-dejecto. “Pretty much the worst I’ve ever felt,” he answered honestly.

Sam and Jazz both winced and his sister grabbed his hand. He squeezed her fingers weakly.

At the foot of his bed stood Tim in full Red Robin getup and Kon as Superboy.

He couldn’t hold back the smile as he met Tim’s gaze. “You came,” he said.

Tim didn’t smile back, but some tension eased out of his shoulders. “I always will,” he said. “Been telling you that since we were ten years old.”

“I know. I’ve always known. Thank you.”

Jazz squeezed his hand again and he looked at her. “Red Robin and Superboy are going to take you away from here. Robin will help you recover.”

Sam nodded. “Yep. And the rest of us are gonna focus on making sure Amity is safe for ghosts once and for all.”

Danny shook his head. “I should be there with you guys, fighting.”

“Nope!” interrupted Jazz. “Not even a little. You’re going to focus on getting better, got it, Danny? That’s all we want from you.”

“But the ghosts—”

Sam covered his mouth with her hand. “Stop it right there. Tucker is working with Impulse and Wonder Girl to get the portal locked up. No one will be coming through. No one—ghost or human—will be in any danger while you’re gone. I promise.”

Danny slumped into the bed. Even the slight change in position caused waves of pain to radiate from his chest even through the healing ice he could feel implanted in his body. He whimpered and closed his eyes until the throbbing receded just a bit. “I trust you. I do, it’s just…”

“You’re used to taking care of everyone,” finished Jazz for him. “We know. So let us take care of you for a change. We love you, Danny.”

“Love you, too, Jazz. Sam.”

“Be good for bird-brain there, got it?” ordered Sam.

Danny gave her a half-smile. “Are Tim and I ever good together?”

She laughed. “Well, don’t burn down Gotham, capiche?”

“Capiche.”

“We have to go now,” said Jazz.

Danny gripped her hand tighter. “Don’t leave me.”

Jazz winced, but leaned down to kiss his forehead. “We need to make sure the Guys in White aren’t going to get involved further. And you need to get someplace safe.”

Danny huffed a half laugh. “Gotham is safe?”

Jazz rolled her eyes at his poor attempt at a joke. “For you it is. Now, I’m leaving Red and Superboy with a case full of ectoplasm for you and our entire supply of ecto-dejecto. I just gave you your first injection. Please try and eat something and drink your ectoplasm regularly.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Jazz.”

Jazz sniffed and it was only then that Danny realized it was wetter than usual and her eyes were watery. He tried not to feel bad for his jokes when she replied, “Yes, it is whatever I say. Glad you agree.”

Sam cackled, and now that he was paying attention, Danny could hear the hysterical edge to it. “You’d better text us multiple times a day, ghost boy. Don’t try and lie to us, either. Kon’ll tell me the truth about your condition. And as soon as we can arrange it, we’re coming out your way for a visit.”

“Course I will, Sam. Give Tuck my best?”

“Duh. He wishes he could’ve come with us, you know.”

Danny nodded. “But he’s better with the tech stuff and that is just as time sensitive.”

“Yeah. Now, get some sleep,” Sam ordered. “You’ve got a long drive ahead of you.”

Danny gave the rote answer after too many all-nighters taking care of ghost attacks before school, “I’m dead, I don’t need sleep.”

His sister squeezed his hand. “Ghosts who just went through what you did need their sleep. Love you, Danny. Get well and I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you, Jazz.”

She kissed his forehead one more time, followed by Sam. And with another two rounds of farewells and love yous, he was alone with Tim and Kon.

“Thanks for coming,” he said again.

“Obviously we weren’t going to leave you there,” said Kon. “Being a lab subject isn’t fun. Especially not that kinda lab experiment.”

Danny couldn’t quite hold back the flinch at that description. It was accurate, but blunt.

Tim walked over until he was sitting by Danny’s bed. “Just listen to Jazz and get some rest. We’re going to be taking the long route to Gotham by going south to start. If we stop for food in a few hours, think you could handle a smoothie?”

Danny shrugged and bit back a yawn. “Could try.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Kon moved towards the front of the vehicle as well. “Looks like it’s time for us to skedaddle. I’ll keep the road from jostling you, ghost-boy.”

Danny gave a small smile and let his eyes close. As he did, he tried to mumble his thanks and he hoped it came across.

---

The next time he woke was more gentle. Someone was tapping on his shoulder and calling his name. But even so, as he was pulled closer to awareness, the pain made itself more and more known. He tried to cling to the darkness, but the tapping wasn’t stopping, nor was the person calling him.

He blinked open his eyes to see Tim’s concerned face. He wasn’t wearing the domino anymore, or his costume. Just a sweatshirt and jeans.

“Hey, Danny,” said Tim. “I’m going to need you to try and eat a bit right now. Kon got us those smoothies I mentioned. I’ve also got yogurt if that’ll be easier for you. But the smoothie will have more nutrients.”

Danny closed his eyes. He wasn’t hungry and didn’t want to eat. Why did Tim have to bring him back to consciousness for this? He hurt and just wanted to sink back into oblivion.

The tapping on his shoulder began again. “I know, Danny. But you have to eat something. And you should take some ectoplasm, too. So just stay awake for a few minutes.”

“Mm ‘wake,” said Danny without opening his eyes. He shifted his weight, hoping to push himself up to eat, only to scream in pain as his chest protested any movement.

“Shit! Don’t move,” said Tim too late. “I’ve got a spoon here. I’ll feed it to you, okay? So just stay exactly where you are.”

Danny gripped his sheets, unable to do anything else as wave after wave of pain over took him. Tim kept up a litany of reassurances and stroked his hair. Eventually, Danny was able to think past it again.

“Don’t think I can sit up,” said Danny.

“Of course not,” agreed Tim. He held a styrofoam cup between his knees and carefully took off the lid and straw. “Just let me. Take at least a few bites. Swallow as is, don’t try and chew. Just do what you can, okay?”

“Okay,” agreed Danny and Tim fed him the first bite.

Danny hated this. Hated it so much. Here he was being spoon fed like a baby all because his parents… He shut his eyes and took the next bite. He wasn’t going to finish that thought. Tim was here and that’s what mattered.

Danny wasn’t sure how much he ate, but it couldn’t have been much. His eyelids were getting heavier and heavier and the pull of oblivion stronger.

“Wait, Danny. Stay awake just a little longer, okay?”

Danny groaned but forced his eyes open again.

Tim showed him a bottle of ectoplasm. “Just a few swallows of this, too. Okay?”

He didn’t want to. He’d rather just go to sleep again, but he opened his mouth obediently. By the time he finished his third spoonful, he couldn’t fight it anymore and slumped into the bed. The pain receded back into blackness for a time.

-----

Next

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Danny is going to be getting all the comfort throughout this. All of them will, tbh. Because no one is happy and they all need a hug or five.

Let me know what you think!

#dpxdc #danny fenton #tim drake #jazz fenton #sam manson #aftermath of torture #fleeing to safety #sam tucker and jazz will manage things in amity #and the justice league will be getting involved

[superklutzkent]

imagining kon coming over to the manor one day to hang with tim and it's jason who answers the door. jason, who looks him over silently for a few moments before proceeding to ask, deadly serious “so, what are your intentions with my brother?”

and kon just stands there, perplexed and so very confused as jason then continues to give him the full shovel talk. it's goes a little something like this towards the end

Jason, after five minutes of just straight up threatening him: You might be 50% Supes but you're still partially human, you have human weaknesses, so killing you won't be much of a challenge.

Kon, absolutely fucking terrified, he hasn't blinked for the entire time: ...

Jason: Anyway, treat him good or else you're dead - also don't touch the pizza in the kitchen, that's mine. Have fun.

kon and tim hang out in his room and watch some movies together, tim notices that he's been weirdly quiet and asks him what's wrong. kon just smiles and assures him he's fine even though he's literally just had the fear of god drilled into him, after he leaves tim meets the other batfam members in the dining room and mentions kon's off behaviour to which jason immediately grins at

Jason: Oh, I just talked to him a little.

Tim: What did you say to him? He looked like he was gonna pass out.

Jason: I just told him to treat you right, that's all. I might've threatened him just a bit but he got the message.

Tim: ...treat me right?

Tim: *realizes*

Tim: WHAT- WE'RE NOT EVEN DATING?!

Jason, casually drinking from his mug: Oh, well. He knows then, just in case.

Tim: WHY.

anyway a few months later tim and kon are actually dating now and he comes by again, locks eyes with jason who just grins and does a little slicing motion on his neck and the look on kon's face is priceless, jason cackles silently like a madman and dick is so very concerned at this point but he's too tired to ask.

#dc #dc universe #dc comics #batman #batfam #batfamily #batfamily shenanigans #batsiblings #jason todd #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #timkon #superklutz rambles

[stealingyourbones]

You have so many braincells bestie it makes me stim so hard in excitement. Your brain is wrinklier than a 16 year old Sphinx cat that has been sitting in a tub of water for Far To Long.

Tim is blissfully unaware of the biggest Arkham breakout in years as he lays curled up against Bruce's side while holding Dick's hand and watching Jason, Bart and Kon play cards. He thinks it's go fish, or maybe Uno. Judging by their faces though, he's quite sure that Jason is winning. This is by far the calmest and happiest he's been since before the Joker took him. Not so much as a pained giggle in almost three hours. They stay that way for another four without a single giggle.

Things are a bit ruined when Dani walks in, not realizing there is still blood on her hands as she says, "well, the Arkham stuff is delt with. How's Tim doing?" As he starts to give panicked giggles, she notices her hands and says, "oh don't worry kid! It's not mine I swear- the clown pushed his luck and-" she is cut off as Tim starts to full on cackle and shake as he cries, sounding almost exactly like the end of a certain flashback. Dani is now also panicking as she tries to make it better by saying, "it's OK! He can't hurt anyone anymore, he'll never get near you again and-"

Kon pulls her out of the room as Tim simply laughs harder, nearly breaking Dick's hand from how hard he is squeezing.

At least Joker has been delt with. For good.

Homie no yOU! You got so many folds in your brain it’s incredible.

Dani realized her mistake and rushed to wash her hands

It was too late. Tim was howling with laughter. His entire frame wracked with shivers as he clutched Jason’s jacket and Dick’s hand like a lifeline. He smile growing so wide that the cuts along his mouth started to reopen and split.

The cheerful sounds that everyone in the room now associated with pain grew louder and louder as some weird shit started happening.

Tim's eyes were momentarily squeezed shut as the clear tear tracks that seemed seemed have a permanent residence on his face started to flow with a strange green liquid. Dick gasped as Tim's eyes flew open and his eyes weren’t his normal blue but instead a bright toxic bright green.

The laughter grew to ear piercing shrieks of pure mirth. The Bats watched in a state of hopelessness and concern as the lights around the room started flickering wildly. Random objects around the room became encased in a bright green glow and started floating on their own volition as Tim howled.

Slowly more and more objects around the room started levitating as any lose item in the room started to swirl around the current residents like they were in the eye of a very spooky land hurricane.

Eventually the laughter slowly died down and in a very sudden motion, the green light left Tim's eyes and everything that was floating fell to the ground with a deafening crash.

For a long moment there was silence. Then Danny spoke up, his eyes were wide with shock and concern for the cackling boy cradled in Bruce's arms. “How did he die?”

The bats were confused. They didn’t understand.

“What?” Dick’s whispered as he gently squeezed his brothers hand, he will definitely have bruises from today but if it helped his brother it made it totally worth it.

Danny’s eyes flashed the same color as Tim’s were moments ago, “How. Did. He. Die.”

Tim's hands went towards his throat. Kon scrambled over to Tim and used his TTK to envelop his friend in a full body hug. Stopping his friend from clawing at his throat to make the laughter stop. The smallest whimper of relief between the laughter was the only sign of acknowledgement Tim gave as his shaking slowly ceased. His eyes still locked in place from where he saw Dani's bloodied hands, tears still glowing a bright toxic green.

Danny gestures all around the room to the hurricane of broken items. "This all says otherwise. He didn't have the meta gene and he feels like a ghost."

Bruce remembered what Joker said to him as he went on and on about his son, “The shocks and the chemicals took their toll.”

Looks like this is an even more complicated situation than they initially thought.

Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4, Pt 5, Pt 6…

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc comics #dp x dc prompt #bones replies #anon #back and fourth anon #jokes on him au #ok the writing and descritions could be better but im too lazy to fix it #tim turning fully liminal from getting shocked to death and joker pumping the kid full of ectoplasm #back on my bullshit #ey yo anon if u ever wanna just dm me and brainstorm stuff id love to pick apart your brain for ideas :)

[ladytauria]

Jaytimkon 1 and 48 for the send me a number and I'll send. Another ask for kisses 💖💖💖 ily youre awesome

ahh ilu too <3333 thank u so much for the prompt!!

this is both my first time writing kon and my first time writing his pov, so i hope it reads okay~

>> AO3 <<

Jason’s the tallest.

He doesn’t beat Kon by much—an inch, maybe two—but he’s like. Way taller than Tim. Which he loves taking advantage of, using the height difference to tease and aggravate Tim until Tim decides to bring him down to his level. Or below.

Kon…

Obviously he’s known the whole time that that’s always been Jason’s end goal; making Tim yank him down, or pin him, or climb him like a tree. Kon can’t blame him. Tim’s cute when he’s irritated; all huffy sighs and puffed cheeks and narrowed eyes. And, of course. Watching Tim put Jason in his place—or being the one Tim puts into place—is always hot. But… recently, Kon’s been thinking. Watching. There’s something about the way Jason melts when Tim pushes him around that’s… different from the way he usually melts when they push him around.

It’s got him in the mood to try an experiment.

He hovers a few inches off the ground, watching Jason pepper Tim’s face with playful kisses, while Tim scrunches his face up, clearly failing at trying to look annoyed. His mouth is twitching upward too much. This is just the start of the game—Jason will escalate until Tim finally gives in and does what he wants.

Which means it’s the perfect time for Kon’s test.

He floats higher and drifts over to them, giving Jason plenty of opportunity to finish his kisses. He has a very specific pattern he follows—one to each cheek,  then the chin, the nose, either the corners of the eyes or closed eyelids, and then, finally, the center of the forehead. Sometimes he’ll repeat it a few times, but it’s always the same pattern.

He waits until the third forehead kiss, and then says, “Hey. Where are my kisses?”

Jason tilts his head back to look at him, a cheeky grin on his face. He holds out a hand. “Come a little closer and find out.” He wiggles his brows a little, which never fails to make Kon laugh and Tim roll his eyes.

Kon takes Jason’s hand, drifting down until he’s just head and shoulders taller than Jason. “Hm… Nah. I think you should come and get ‘em yourself, Jaybabe.”

Behind him, Tim grins.

Jason rolls his eyes—a smile tugging at his mouth. “Oh, well, if that’s how you want to play it, farm boy.” He lets go of Kon’s hand, fisting the collar of his t-shirt and tugging. Normally, Kon would go with it; allow himself to be tugged down and into whatever kind of kiss his boyfriends were in the mood for.

Today, he stays right where he is.

Jason huffs. A flush spreads over his face; bright, vivid pink. It’s charming. Kon is charmed, totally unable to keep from smiling as, finally, Jason rolls up onto his toes, arms locking around Kon’s neck. He slots their mouths together, feeling the way Jason shivers, first, and then melts—Kon’s arms reflexively settling on his waist, keeping him from dropping back onto his heels.

His hands splay on Jason’s sides; fingers spread wide in the way he knows Jason likes. Makes him feel almost small, he s—

Small.

Oh.

Duh.

Jason likes feeling small.

It seems so obvious now. He should probably test it, a little more though. Just to see. So he cups Jason’s jaw with one hand, tilting his head back a little bit more, raising up a little higher, looming a little more. Jason moans, a sweet, breathy thing. Kon hums, kissing him a little deeper, licking into his mouth until all he can taste is Jason.

He doesn’t pull back until he can tell Jason’s legs are trembling; his heart thrumming.

Jason lands back on his heels. He’s a pretty sight; no longer vivid pink but a deep red. It brings out the teal of his eyes.

Kon just has one more thing he wants to try.

He cups Jason’s face with both hands.

Left cheek—right cheek—chin—a sharp intake of breath as he kisses Jason’s nose, lashes fluttering before his eyes close, letting Kon kiss first his left eye, then the right.

He plants the last on his forehead, lingering, and then, finally, lets go, landing on his feet once more.

Jason wobbles for a moment, blinking again—almost dazed. Then he looks back at Kon again.The smile Jason gives him is one he’s never seen before—small and sweet and almost shy. It’s one of the prettiest things Kon’s ever seen, and he knows, immediately, that he’ll do whatever it takes to see it again.

[ 50 types of kisses ]

#the ending feels like its missing something but idk what #also! the face kisses #its semi inspired by something i read in a book a long time ago (the book wasn't great from what i remember but the kiss thing was cute) #anyway #so for this it's something catherine used to do & which jason remembers making him feel very warm and loved #so now he does it to his boyfriends <3 #having it turned back on him was. an Experience <3333 #also i love love love the hc of jason liking to feel small #idk where i saw it first but #i dunno its cute so #there it is!!!! #tauriawritesfanfic #jaytimkon #jaykon #mostly #cheetahleopard #dcu

[konietzko-sylvoran]

Day 1 for May DWC 2024 Mysterious - Appearance

★ Backstage Glimpses at Hearts of Tenacity Fest ★

'It's for the show, I'd do anything for the show.' He thought to himself internally for the thirtieth time tonight. 'Elune please, I beg of you please make my nose stop itching.' Mind over matter Kon... you are tougher than this. You can get through this. "Bare with us a little longer Kon, how are you holding up in there?" A familiar voice said though his eyes were still closed. "I'm managing, but my arms are getting heavy." "Do you need us to get you some broom handles to hold onto?" The question brought a sense of hope. "NO! No we can't his palms haven't finished curing yet." A different yet also familiar voice exclaimed. And like that, his hope was gone in an instant and the weight of his arms grew even heavier. "I will be alright everyone, worry not." Kon said sounding calm and confident even if he was internally dying. Who'd have ever thought that being mostly naked with only a tight thong on his body would make him hotter than hell itself. Or course, he was also covered literally head to toe in high performance platinum silicone rubber specifically designed for creating silicone makeup and fake skin effects. Did the audience truly know how to appreciate the artwork that went into such special FX? Did they know how many hours one had to stand perfectly still while layer after layer was applied. Hours spent sculpting each wound, each scale on his body and each scar. The science behind creating certain spray molds and smooth casting. All the chemicals used and mixed perfectly and time spent letting them cure in their molds to later be applied to his body. All the talcum powder applied and the adhesive applied painstakingly to every inch of his body. Being forced to resist the urge to twitch when it tickled, to scratch when it itched, to move at all and risk an imperfection of something falling off or not sticking when it wasn't dry yet. Light forbid if you have to take a leak during all this, a bathroom break was NOT an option when this heavy of effects were applied. One had to risk dehydration from the moment they woke as they could not risk having a full bladder till the show was over. And even as the last of the prosthetics were finally applied, then come the hours of makeup to get the color and tone just right to make it more believable. So much so the audience would genuinely feel it was real as they quite literally could reach out and touch it. It was all for the visuals and the more real it looked, the more real it became. This was nothing Kon told himself, trying for a moment to just imagine what it would be like to become an Illidari in reality. To embrace the fel magics and your literal inner demon as your body is twisted and torn into something grotesque for the power and ability to fight fire with fire in the most literal of sense. What he was going through now paled in comparison to the real deal. But tell that to the literal STING in cheek DEMANDING to be itched. To the ache in his arms as they felt like 50 pound weights. To the crick in his back for standing still for so long without moving. To the throb in his feet as every muscle scream to move. To the... "TALTHORN!" Konietzko suddenly yelled, head jerking up from the backstage table it had been resting on. A few cotton balls stuck to his skin from the heat he'd generated in his short respite he'd unintentionally taken to get a little shut eye in the dressing room backstage before the big show tonight. His eyes wide with alert and darting around confused as he was ripped from his slumber so suddenly. "Sorry Kal'dalah, I didn't mean to wake you." The magi replied not too far behind him mid wince as he picked up the brush he'd just accidentally dropped from his own hand. "Damn thing got tangled in my hair." he whimpered trying to fix the tiniest of knots in his long well kept silver locks.

Still somewhat confused in his sudden wakefulness, Konietzko staggered out of his chair and went to Talthorn taking his hands a little desperately as he looked him in the eyes being rather dramatic. This was nothing new to his husband of course so he just laughed as he held Kon in return. "Pleeeaaaseee tell me you're going to use your magic to apply my Illidari makeup for Inner Beast's set tomorrow." Kon whined making Talthorn quip a brow. "Of course, do you doubt my talents love?" "NEVER!" Kon exclaimed as he breathed a breath of relief so big it was as if he'd been holding it all this time. "Thank Elune I married a magi." Talthorn laughed as he reached up to remove those cotton balls on his cheek. "You didn't marry me just because of my magic did you?" "Of course not Kal'dalah. Only -mostly- for your magic." Kon teased at him as he leaned in to kiss his husband holding him tight in a warm embrace with a deep smile curved along his lips. "GET A ROOM!" A shout cried followed by many giggles from the nearby doorway. A quick look and both saw a few of their fellow stars standing there watching them. "Why when being watched is soooo much better." Kon purred in his deep voice as he slid a finger down Talthorn's thigh then hooked his leg and raised it up around Kon's own thigh. Talthorn played along, pressing his body against his husband as he hit the onlookers with a look only this silver fox could pull off and that made many jealous of Kon's marriage to him in all honesty. The doorway filled with smug grins, laughter, a few yelps and even the sound of a few feet running away suddenly down the hallway of the backstage area. It filled the elves both with laughter of their own as they looked to one another once more. "Guess we'll just have to save it for the Talicious show." Kon teased as their leftover audience groaned their displeasure. What happened backstage at HoT Fest stayed at HoT Fest... or usually wound up on their stage in some form. Either way, noone ever complained.

@daily-writing-challenge @talthorn-sylvoran

#konietzko #talthorn and kon #konietzko and talthorn #performers #hotfest #Backstage Fun #Hearts of Tenacity #MAYDAY12024 #MAYDWC2024 #konietzko sylvoran

[roseandgold137]

Tim had spent the past decade perfecting his skills in the field. Bruce had made sure of it, even on nights they didn’t patrol – stormy nights were spent practicing first aid, sparring, working on cases. It was annoying at the time, yeah, but right now, Tim had never been so relieved to be able to push aside the panic and fall into those practiced motions.

“Hey, Cookie,” he prompted quietly, as Jasper announced his wakefulness with a groan. “You took a bit of a tumble there.” Jasper didn’t respond, but Tim had expected as much, and busied himself with finding the cut on his head. Jasper’s hair was due another trim – it was just bordering the length he was willing to tolerate before he’d want it gone, and, frankly, Tim wasn’t inclined to repeat the last time Jasper had decided to do away with his hair completely. “Can you open your eyes for me, please?”

Jasper grumbled something unintelligible, but he obediently blinked his eyes open. Tim winced before he could kill the impulse. “Good job, buddy. Can you see my hand?” One vague nod. “Can you see how many fingers I’m holding up?”

Jasper squinted, frowning. “…Three?”

Tim looked at his three fingers, then back at Jasper. “Are you guessing?”

“Is it two?” Jasper asked, somehow less sure than his other answer.

Tim closed his hand. “Cookie, you’ve gotta tell me the truth when you can’t see right. I need to know to check how bad your concussion is.”

“I don’t have a conuss… conco…” Jasper furrowed his brow, then enunciated carefully. “Concussion. ‘M perfectly fine,” he added, staring into a middle distance. “What kinda birds’re those?”

Tim looked over his shoulders. “I think those are leaves.” Jasper blinked slowly, then sighed, going limp once more. “Hey, stay awake, yeah? Evac is still a few minutes out.”

“Who’zat,” Jasper asked. He jerked back from Tim’s continued search for a bump, right over his left temple – yeah, there it was. It was bleeding quite a bit, but not too much compared to what Tim would expect from a head injury. “Stoppit,” he groused.

“No can do,” Tim said. “Who’s who?”

“Ev..ac,” Jasper said, slowly. “Stupid name.”

“Good thing it isn’t one,” Tim said, lightly, though he made sure to take a second look at Jasper’s injury. “It’s short for evacuation. Evacuation, Evac.” Jasper blinked, blankly, then his eyes unfocused and he closed them again. “Cookie?”

“I’m not hungry,” Jasper grumbled.

“That’s your name, silly.” Tim flicked a lock of hair across Jasper’s forehead. “Don’t you remember your name?”

“Jasper,” he responded, quietly.

“And your other name? Field name?” Tim clarified.

“Kookaburra,” Jasper said, louder. He blinked, hard, and looked around properly for the first time since Tim had found him. “Did this place explode?”

“Pretty much,” Tim said. “I mean, they were mostly trying to explode you, but luckily enough, they’ve got shi – sugar aim.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Jasper said, poking Tim’s knee. “I’m thirteen, I’m not a baby.”

“You’re my baby, though.” Jasper grumbled something too low for Tim to hear. “Hey, didn’t Turaco mention some new friends? What were their names?” Tim knew their names, of course. How could he not, when Kon’s first – well, second, technically – response to impulsively adopting a kid was to call him? Speaking of impulses, too –

“They’re nice,” Jasper said, interrupting Tim’s thoughts. “Vivace, and, um, Sunbeam.” Jasper frowned. “Can I just say their names?”

Tim looked around, but the site was just as empty as it had been. “Can’t see why not.”

Jasper nodded happily, then paused. “What am I saying about them?”

“Whatever comes to mind,” Tim said, pressing gently along Jasper’s ribs. “Is it just your head that’s hurt?”

“Think so,” Jasper muttered. “Everything’s kinda fuzzy,” he added, scrunching his nose.

“That’s normal. It should pass soon, but if it doesn’t, tell me.” Tim found a tear in the suit, and hummed in time with Jasper. “Anyways, Vivace and Sunbeam?”

“Yeah,” Jasper said, eyes drooping. “Vivace – Vivian, she’s, well. It’s not that she’s not nice, but she’s… a lot. Kinda gives me a headache when she like… does the, the shaky thing…” Jasper made a vague gesture with his hand. “Vibrating. That thing. Other than that she’s pretty chill.” He made a choked sound when Tim checked his right wrist - didn’t seem broken, but maybe sprained. “Mi-sun kinda scares me.”

“Why’s that?” Tim pulled a simple hand brace from his belt. He was as gentle as he could be while pulling Jasper’s glove off, but it still wasn’t entirely painless. “Sorry, sorry.”

“She’s got like… her eyes are just. Sharp.” Jasper eyed the brace warily while Tim secured it. “Kioni said she had kryptonite in her heart. That’s freaky.”

“We know plenty of freaky people,” Tim hummed, “I’m sure there’s worse.”

“Like what?”

Tim leaned back on his heels, and began counting on his fingers. “Plastic Man, the Question, Metallo… that’s not even considering villains, and really, that’s where things get weird.”

“I don’t know who they are,” Jasper grumbled. “So your point is moot.”

“Fair point,” Tim relented. “Still, if this is a fear of the unknown and unnatural, then maybe getting to know her more could be good.”

“Maybe.”

Tim’s wrist communicator beeped – Steph was almost there with Redbird, and Tim sincerely hoped she’d enjoyed riding it over, because he was not going to be trusting her behind the wheel again once Jasper was safe at home. He’s seen what she’s done to the Batmobile.

“Just a little longer,” he said to Jasper. “Spoiler’s on her way.”

Jasper hummed and relaxed, eyes sliding closed again. “Do I still have to go to tutoring tomorrow?”

“Nah,” Tim said, ruffling his hair, careful of the wound. “I’m not really one for cruel and unusual punishment.”

“Coulda fooled me.” Jasper made a half-hearted show of offence as Tim fixed his hair again. “Why’d you bother messing it up if you’re just gonna put it back to how it was?”

Tim didn’t bother answering. Redbird swerved into view – if she’s scratched, it’d be coming out of Steph’s next paycheck – and came to an abrupt stop only a few feet away from them. Steph hopped out.

“How’s my favourite nephew holding up?”

“Don’t let Pitohui hear you say that,” Tim said, already adjusting his hold on Jasper’s shoulders. “Concussion, maybe a broken wrist. Other than that it’s just bruises and scrapes.”

“I can walk by myself,” Jasper insisted, pulling out of Tim’s grip. Tim let him. His ankles weren’t hurt – the concussion might affect his coordination, but Tim was only backing off, not leaving him completely. He’d be able to intervene if Jasper really couldn’t make the short distance to the car.

The ride home wasn’t particularly noteworthy. Tim sent Steph to the backseat – only successful because she could then sit with Jasper and complain about Tim – and Jasper mostly dozed, especially once the painkillers kicked in. Jasper had incredible tolerances to many things, but over the counter medicines? Not one of them.

Later, once Steph was dropped home, and Tim was pulling into the Nest, he’d carry Jasper upstairs and help him change into the Nightwing pyjamas Dick had bought as a joke. He’d help him brush his teeth, would double check his bandages, and tuck him into bed.

He’d sit there for just five extra minutes, until Jasper was definitely deep asleep. He still had plenty to do – more kids on patrol, paired up with other vigilantes for the night, school lunches to prepare so tomorrow morning won’t be a total nightmare, making sure Veda actually was where she said she was and not in space with the Titans again. But for five minutes, he could be here.

#tim drake #jasper

[blorb-el]

hullo! I read your chapter of your au with the Very Horrible Lex and the Very Baby Kon and the Very Sad Clark and i love it sosososo much! The GOOD ANGST my dood.

I want you to know i’ve been daydreaming abt it. Heck, i was daydreaming WHILE reading it- i mean that’s actually normal for me when i’m invested in smthn, but fr i kept getting distracted by So Many Thoughts and Feelings tm. Took me longer to read than it should’ve but rest assured that’s a positive thing!

i read the fic you based it on, and it was great! But so far im liking yours better >v>

I wanna see the rescue and the recovery! I wanna see it get worse first! I wanna see Clark attempt to raise Kon the best he can in the worst of circumstances! The love and human connection thriving even in the midst of a hurricane of cruelty— it’s so good bestie!

uhh anyway! The point of this ask: I wanna know, how did you come up with the title? “We shall be free; we shall find peace”? oVo?

Thank you!! That's basically how it came about, daydreaming about the fic that inspired it!

So I really love the fanfic tradition of using lowercase AestheticTM song lyrics as titles. Fic is already inherently intertextual, and I think it's fun to add another layer of intertextuality onto that; I named one of my other fics with a lyric mostly because 1. the lyric fits their relationship! and 2. the juxtaposition between Wholesome Radio Pop Lyric and soft d/s xeno tentacle pwp still makes me laugh.

At first the draft was just called 'horrible lex au,' and then I thought about using two other quotes before settling on the title. That's the tl;dr of it all, the rest of this is under a cut for plot spoilers for the overall arc of the entire fic, and also so, so much rambling:

The first title I was thinking about was be sure your heart is brave from Aeschylus' Agamemnon, but that quote is the chorus speaking to Cassandra right before she's about to be killed; her bravery is a heavy burden reaction to the monstrous injustices that have brought her to that point, like Clark and Kon... but then she's brutally murdered. Plus the power dynamic situation is... let's say, very different. It's an extraordinary, immortal line but the narrative arc I've got planned strays too far from the original arc, and in the end I decided I didn't want the shadow of a way better tragedy hanging over my little fanfic.

Chorus: Woman, be sure your heart is brave; you can take much. Cassandra: None but the unhappy ever hear such praise.

The next line I was thinking about went too far in the other direction, taste a morning out there, which is from one of the best 'I Want' songs, Out There from the Disney Hunchback of Notre Dame. Quasimodo's story of being thought monstrous and being imprisoned and gaslit by a socially powerful manipulator parallels Clark and Kon better than Cassandra's, but in the end the literal line itself doesn't fit right with either Clark or Kon. Clark, at the beginning of the fic, has atrophied to the point where he can only conceive wanting for such things through wanting them for Kon, and Kon, as we'll see soonish, isn't locked up underground the way Clark is. Plus, the fic is... lighter than the Orestia for sure but a hell of a lot grimmer than Disney, lol. I do have it on my writing playlist though.

So in the end I went back to one of my absolute favorite pieces of media ever, Fidelio. We shall be free; we shall find peace is a line from the Prisoner's Chorus in that opera. The solo prisoner that sings the line invites the rest of the prisoners to begin hoping, and from there, despite the sobering reminders of the dangers they face, that they're being watched, the music swells into a yearning for freedom so powerful it's difficult to understand how it passed the censors in 1805.

First solo: Hope whispers softly to me: We shall be free, we shall find peace. Chorus: Oh Heavens! Salvation! What happiness! Oh freedom, freedom, will you return? Second solo: Speak softly! Be on your guard! [The jailer's] eyes and ears are on us.

And then - the head jailer returns, and the prisoners are brought back to reality, forced back into their dark cells at the end of the act. The temporary respite is over.

Farewell, warm sunshine - how quickly you fly from us. Night is fallen upon us, from which no day shall break.

The simple act of hoping is like a breath of fresh air, temporarily alleviating their suffering, but it doesn't materially change their circumstances; it takes a number of outside forces to do that, which will be paralleled in the fic. Love and hope is all they have, and it's not enough, but it does make the torment bearable until Bruce/Leonora uncovers the extent of The Horrors and Diana/Don Fernando can deus ex machina everyone into the sunlight.

All in all, the line is a very succinct summary of the plot. Clark and Kon will be free, and they will find peace, but they have to find out what both of those mean, reclaiming their agency in the process.

oooor at least that's the plan. chapter 2 is about 90% edited and can probably be ready this weekend, I hit a little plot snag in chapter 3-5 so chunks of that are undergoing rewrites, but the good news there is that the rewrites are SO much better than the original draft and there will be some bats showing up earlier than there otherwise would have been. I did uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh kind of lose my job a few days after posting the first part, so updates will be slower than I'd like, especially since I'll have to move to a different state if I get the positions I'm currently applying to 😓

#thanks for the ask :^) #bahfev #fic: we shall be free #my writing

[suzukiblu]

Day six of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon.

"You're bluffing," the thief says flatly.

"And you're fucking stupid if you think this is the play that's getting you out of here," Kon snorts, tapping a foot against the floor. "C'mon, man, give it up. I've got plans tonight." 

"Use the artifact!" the alleged "Mark" yells at the thief holding it. 

"Right!" said thief says, then . . . pauses, and looks embarrassed. "How do I . . . do that?" 

Kon looks incredibly unimpressed. Tim empathizes. Deeply. 

"You guys need a minute there?" Kon asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"Shut up!" Mark snaps at him. "Just use it, Lisa!" 

"I thought you said no names–" 

"Use it!" 

"Uh, right!" 

The thief chucks the little clay goat at Kon. Tim is genuinely embarrassed for this entire crew. 

Kon catches the goat one-handed, which is kind of a stupid idea, but letting it smash on the floor admittedly wouldn't look great. People over property, obviously, but Kon also historically has issues with property damage and letting the bad guys smash up ancient artifacts is not the best plan in general anyway. Especially given how often said ancient artifacts have ghosts or curses or apocalypses locked inside them. 

"Lisa!" the thieves all yell in horror.

"Was this the whole plan?" Kon asks, making a show of inspecting the goat. "Like, was this it? I can come back later, if you're still cooking on that."

Tim muffles a laugh with a snort. Kon definitely caught it, though, judging by his smug smirk. 

"Shut up, wannabe!" the thief still holding a gun to Tim's head snarls, which reminds Tim he should be pretending to care about the gun currently being held to his head. Honestly, he would in Gotham, but the only way this moron is shooting anybody is by accident. 

. . . admittedly, that is a concern, given the trigger discipline issue. Hm.

"Killing me would probably count as felony murder, just so you know," Tim mentions, glancing around the thieves. "Which you could all be charged with, not just whoever actually shot me. Plus I'm pretty sure stealing objects of cultural heritage from a museum is a federal crime."

He's completely sure of all that, actually, for obvious reasons, but he has to at least pretend to be a civilian here. Like, some effort needs to go into that illusion, if for no other reason than to avoid a Bat-lecture from Bruce or, worse, a Bat-"I'm not mad, just disappointed" from Dick. 

Or, worst, Alfred might make disapproving shortbread instead of approving jammy dodgers for post-patrol tonight. That'd be really unfortunate. Tim could really use an approving jammy dodger tonight. He's already going to have to write up a very annoying incident report of this situation as it is, and also deal with the mortification of getting his neck saved by a Super. There is no dignity in that. At all. 

He is definitely never telling the team his secret identity. At least not until he's absolutely positive Kon hasn't inherited any of Superman's eidetic memory, anyway. He's ninety-nine percent sure he hasn't, but that last percent is a definite concern right now. 

"No one asked your opinion, brat!" Mark snaps, though a few of the other thieves now look extremely uneasy. Tim makes another mental note about their crew's obvious lack of prep time and general planning and continues to be embarrassed for them. Museum robberies in Gotham are themed events with careful research and preparation involved, and frankly usually involve more thoughtful effort than whatever gala they may or may not be crashing did. Smash and grab is for convenience stores and small-timers. And these guys are definitely small-timers, but this is equally definitely not a convenience store.

Metropolis is so weird. Why anyone even bothers doing petty crime in it at all is beyond Tim. Maybe they're just banking on Superman being more concerned with natural disasters and alien invasions and rescuing cats from trees, which is a valid strategy. Same theory as splitting up and making a cohesive group into multiple targets.

"He has the idol!" Lisa hisses, glaring at Kon like she's not the one who threw it at him to begin with. Tim gets a gun barrel jammed into his temple again. He has no idea why Trigger Discipline: What Not To Do thinks that's, like . . . a productive thing to do. At this rate he's going to get a bruise or something.

Well, he's not actually doing it hard enough to hurt, admittedly, though Tim does keep expecting it to. The guy looks like he's putting his back into it, but the impacts continue not to actually hurt, so Tim supposes he's just trying to put on a show here. 

Well, at least he's putting in some effort, Tim supposes. That's something. 

"I really do have plans tonight, you know," Kon reminds them, raising an eyebrow at the thieves again. 

"I would appreciate you delaying those, actually," Tim mentions. "If you don't mind, I mean." 

"Oh, yeah, don't sweat it, dude," Kon says, waving him off. "These people are annoying but I'm not gonna ditch out on you here, that's not your fault." 

"Don't ignore us!" one of the unnamed thieves yells. "And give the idol back!" 

"I have no idea why you would expect me to do that," Kon says. 

"I'll shoot!" the thief holding Tim threatens, jamming the gun barrel into his head again. 

"I mean, I'm pretty sure that dude was right about the felony murder thing, so maybe don't?" Kon says, inspecting the little clay goat again. "Hm. This thing is actually kinda cute." 

"It is, isn't it," Tim agrees. "I thought it looked like a kid's toy."

"Oh yeah, I can see that," Kon says, squinting assessingly at it. "Like those chunky toddler ones?" 

"Yeah, like those," Tim confirms with a nod. "Fisher-Price, Duplo, that kind of thing." 

"I'll take your word on that one, man, my 'toddler' stage only lasted about half a day and I was sedated for it," Kon replies in amusement. Tim seethes internally and thinks very uncharitable thoughts about Cadmus. 

"I said I'll shoot!" the thief holding him says furiously, tightening his arm across Tim's neck. It's still not actually enough to hurt, but again, Tim appreciates seeing a little more effort. "Give us the idol, you stupid brat!" 

"I'm trying to help you out here," Kon says, looking exasperated. "You're just making shit worse for yourself the longer you keep this up. Put down the gun and let the guy go, you'll get a way lighter sentence." 

"Fuck you!" the thief shouts. "The power of the idol will protect us!" 

"The idol that I am currently holding, you mean?" Kon says, hefting it meaningfully. "The one that is in specifically my possession and not yours?" 

Tim does understand that talking people down is the preferred approach and Kon can't actually super-speed this problem away, but Kon could at least pretend to be taking this seriously. From his perspective, there's a civilian hostage with a gun to their head and an angry criminal with their finger on the trigger, but he's acting like there isn't any danger in the situation at all.

Tim gets the posturing thing and the general "cooler than thou" attitude Kon likes to present, but it's definitely not making any of the thieves calm down. Like, not at all is it making any of the thieves calm down. 

This incident report is going to be very annoying to write. 

"It's not yours!" Lisa shrieks at him. 

"You literally threw it at me," Kon says. "I only have it because you threw it at me. Also pretty sure it's not yours either, given all the screaming alarms and broken glass and the smashed-in wall I am currently standing in the wreckage of."

Tim starts wondering if maybe he should revisit his "tripping" plan. He doesn't really want to pull any Robin-esque moves in front of Kon, but also dying would really fuck up all that hard work he's put into being Bruce's emotional support sidekick. Also two dead Robins in a row could not possibly end well. Especially in such a stupid way. Especially in Metropolis. 

"You don't even know what you're holding, you idiot!" Lisa fumes.

"A toddler toy, I thought we established," Kon says. "'Doopler' or something?"

"Duplo," Tim corrects, internally calculating tripping angles. 

"That one, yeah," Kon amends. "Doppo." 

Tim, resignedly, thinks his determined commitment to pointlessly fucking up is adorable. Also still hates Cadmus and has the irrational urge to buy him a teddy bear or something, although Kon would definitely just think he was fucking with him if he did.

Maybe he could just smuggle one into his room and disavow all knowledge of its existence. That's an option. 

"Give us the idol now!" the thief holding Tim snarls, his face twisting in rage. 

"Yeah, no," Kon says. 

"You little–!" the thief starts to yell, and then his trigger finger slips. Tim knows this because the gun goes off right next to his ear. 

And right against his temple. 

Half the room screams and the thief yells and drops the gun, recoiling in horror. It goes off again as it hits the floor and a bullet shatters a historically-significant vase the way one should have shattered Tim's personally-significant skull. 

What the fuck?

"Shit, sorry, that was probably kinda loud," Kon says apologetically, wincing a little but otherwise looking completely unphased by all of that. Tim blinks, very slowly, and attempts to restore his resting heart rate. It's not a particularly successful attempt.

"Yeah, kinda," he says.

"Sorry, sound waves are harder to block," Kon apologizes, pointing at his own ear with his free hand, and Tim remembers the other's total lack of concern for any threat to civilian life this whole time and realizes that was because, from Kon's perspective, there wasn't any actual threat.

Huh. 

Well, that explains why neither the gun barrel nor the being choked thing actually hurt at any point, doesn't it.

"Oh," Tim says, looking down at the floor that they are, in fact, all still standing on. "Tactile telekinesis?"

"You've heard of it?" Kon says, looking pleased. 

"Once or twice," Tim says, managing not to say it too dryly. Kon looks even more pleased. "I didn't know you could use it like that, though." 

"Practice makes perfect," Kon replies smugly.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young justice #young just us #rinfic #long post #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

[belle-of-a-time]

Because the rot consumes here’s

Batfam-Soul Eater AU

Bruce is a weapon and he’s a gun. And he fucking hates it like Despises it

Talia turned him into a death scythe but lord death never makes him transform. He’s just a strategist and a teacher now.

Talia is a witch but she hid it until after she made Bruce a death scythe.

Also Bruce’s like honor code is a little different here since “no killing” is kinda silly when the only reason the academy exists is to kill kishins he thinks A: everyone is constantly teetering on the edge of madness all the time. And B: it is a moral failing if you succumb to the madness. Which is why he didn’t go after the joker after Jason, because doing so would have been giving in to the madness.

Dick is a meister

He bounced back and forth between Barbara who is a grappling hook and also a meister and Kori who is some sort of lava cannon or something.

Barbara got Severely hurt during a fight while wielding Jason and had to stop for a while. She’s back at it though, helping Bruce as a strategist and as like “Mission Control” Bruce is guiding her to take over for him someday.

Dick now fights with Wally who is his like electric escrima sticks because speedster=lightning in my mind.

Jason is also a gun but he thinks it’s Very cool. Barbara was with Jason when they were assigned to take down the joker who is a kishin egg. He killed Jason and severely injured Babs.

Jason was revived by Talia because obviously, using the black blood and he was overtaken by the madness for a while before being pulled back towards sanity by his friends.

Hes partnered with Roy now who Does have A daughter Lian. Teen pregnancy stuff. You get it.

Tim is a meister. He can resonate with anyone but he really struggled to find a weapon he really clicked with. So he fought by directing his soul wavelength for a while.

He met Bernard who is a bo staff and they clicked and are now partners.

Steph used to fight by herself using a non person weapon, no one is really sure where she got it. But now she and Cassandra are partners and No One but Steph and maybe Bruce and Barbara know what kind of weapon she is all anyone can tell is that she’s something small, she can also see soul wavelengths.

There’s a good chance though that when you see Steph alone that Cass is actually transformed and concealed somewhere on her person

Duke is a weapon who fights alone (like Justin law) I don’t know what kind of weapon but it’s something weird and COOL he’s got to be really super cool. It definitely glows and he can like “enchant” (not really the word I’m looking for but it works) it with his soul wavelength to like resonate/boost his own attacks.

Duke is the closest to becoming a death scythe of the batfam.

Damian is PISSED that he wasn’t born a weapon. He really really wants to be a death scythe, so it bums him out that he can’t.

I think it’s really funny if he Is actually a weapon but he’s even more repressed than Maka so literally no one knows.

That or Talia tried to ensure he’d be a witch and it backfired somehow and locked away his weapon transformation instead.

He’s partnered with Jon who is a sword

Damian is absolutely determined to make Jon into the youngest death scythe ever

Jon does not particularly care either way he definitely wants to become a death scythe but isn’t super bothered by timeline but if that’s what Damian wants god damnit he’s going to try his best!! Jon is very Tsubaki core to me. They are the tsu/blackstar combo of the batfam.

Back to Jason, Bruce understands Jason’s struggle with the madness and just really really wants his son to talk to him but he never ever gives ANY indication that he’d react well or even Want to talk to Jason about anything. Especially when he keeps reacting so high and mighty and preachy when Jason is Worse at dealing with the madness than anyone else.

Other—non batfam—headcanons

Clark and Lois are a death scythe/ meister combo In that order. They’re off doing shit constantly and Kon ends up basically taking care of Jon most of the time.

J’onn is a teacher (also a weapon) at the academy in my mind the like struggle with madness is split off onto Bruce but the like rest of stein is in J’onn mixed with Sid’s like dad energy.

J’onn is the teacher that Everyone goes to for advice about basically anything.

Also J’onn is a weapon who can change form like Tsubaki can but he’s got A Lot more forms. He can see wavelengths. And attack with his own wavelength. He’s basically super overpowered but he hardly ever has to fight.

Barry is a death scythe nuff said

All of the like magic users in the justice league including aquaman because… fish. Are witches

Zetanna’s witch form/animal form is a lion because she gives me ringmaster vibes? Idk.

Constantine’s animal form is the wettest saddest rat you’ve ever seen. It’s also huge. Also he is Literally trading off pieces of his soul and he looks SUPER freaky to anyone who can see souls

The main villain of the arc is the league of assassins. Run by witches. The academy and the justice league witches team up to take them down. They’re trying to turn the joker into a full blown kishin using the black blood which is a stand in for the Lazarus pits. I’m thinking like full on Pits of the stuff and everyone has to donate blood to the pits every time they walk past. All these assassins are Covered in self inflicted cuts so they can donate their blood.

When people displease Ra’s they get bled out into the black blood. Like draining an animal style. So ominously hanging over the pit by the ankles bleeding out into it are like a lot of bodies. And in the center in like a cage half submerged in the blood is the joker and they bring him all the souls after the people bleed to death.

They do kidnap J’onn at some point, also Tim, and Bernard, and idk Lian for the drama

So rescue mission! Also kill the joker! Is the main finale.

#batfam #DC #crossover #soul eater #DC as soul eater #headcanon #long post

[mamawasatesttube]

fluffy soft sentence starters!!! “Never. Never will I stop loving you.”?

Lightning cracks open the sky, a brilliant flash brighter than daybreak. Rain drums against the windowpanes and rolls in sheets down the glass; the Kansas sky is a stormy grey as far as the eye can see. The trees around the farmhouse whip back and forth, bending in the wind, and from the distance comes the low, ominous crackaboom of thunder.

Gotham doesn't really get storms like the Midwest. It makes sense, for a place called Tornado Alley, but it's still a sight to behold. Tim doesn't think he's ever quite understood what Kon means, about the sky out here making everything else feel small, until the first time he saw the magnificent dread of a late summer storm.

Today's, according to all three of Tim's weather apps, has them under tornado watch, but Kon doesn't seem overly concerned. He's halfway to dozing off, his head pillowed on Tim's thigh and Krypto curled up on his legs in lieu of a blanket. He looks cozy.

He's not feeling his best today, though. He hasn't said anything, but Tim knows how to read him. He's been too quiet, and too many of his smiles have been forced.

He scrunches his fingers idly through Kon's soft, springy curls, smiling slightly when Kon hums in appreciation and presses his head a little further into his hand. Krypto does the same thing when he's getting ear scritches.

After a few moments, Kon breaks the silence with a heavy sigh. His fingers curl against Tim's knee.

"Sorry," he mumbles, his voice a little rough from disuse. "For being so... boring today. I know I said we could play Zelda together, 'n' all, and then I've been just... sitting here."

Tim sighs fondly. When will he get it? "I don't mind just sitting here with you. Technically, 'Twilight Princess' is a single-player game. If I really wanted, I could just play it myself, you know."

A flicker of a smile tugs at Kon's lips. "Wouldn't be as funny, though."

"Yeah, no," Tim agrees, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "It wouldn't."

Admittedly, few things are funnier than each of them taking half of the controller for a single-player game and then hoping for the best. Tim prefers to have the joystick for movement control, but that leaves Kon in charge of the camera, except for when Tim overrides him with the target lock-on button. It never really gets them far in a game before they die, but it is really funny.

Thunder crackles and booms outside again. Krypto's ears twitch. Kon heaves another deep, world-weary sigh. His hand reaches up to find Tim's, and he intertwines their fingers, tucking their joined hands under his chin.

"Sometimes, when I get like this," he admits, "I start wondering when you'll get sick of me. Not if, but when. It's so..." He lets out a frustrated breath and bows his head, his lips brushing Tim's knuckles. The stubble on his jaw is a little scratchy against Tim's skin. "I know it's not fair to think of you like that. But my stupid brain doesn't listen to me. It just keeps asking when? when? when?"

Sometimes, Tim wishes he had a time machine just to go back a few years and punt Tana Moon into the ocean. Knockout, too, superstrength and all that or not. And to scream at everybody, his younger self included, for not noticing the kinds of relationships Kon, naive and innocent and so very starved for affection, got groomed into twice over.

In the present, Tim rests his other hand atop Kon's curly head, caressing his thumb over the shaved fuzz behind his ear. "Easy answer," he says. "Never. I will never stop loving you. So tell your brain to suck on that."

That gets a soft, breathy huff of laughter out of Kon. Tim mentally fist-pumps at his success, not bothering to hide his smile. He likes when Kon laughs.

Abruptly, he rolls over in Tim's lap, dislodging Krypto, who lifts his head with a disdainful look in reprimand before he settles himself back down. Kon buries his face in Tim's stomach, sliding his arms around his hips, and lets out a breath.

"Love you too, Rob." His voice is endearingly muffled by Tim's shirt. "...And thanks. For getting it."

"Hey, you always get me," Tim points out, rubbing a small circle into his shoulder. "So, anytime, clone boy. You wanna go take a nap?"

Kon shakes his head. His nose presses into Tim's waist. "Just wanna stay like this a few minutes." He sighs again. "...Then we can make some hot choccy and maybe game after. S'good hot choccy weather."

"Yeah," Tim agrees, resting his hand on his Kon's shoulder. "That sounds good to me."

Thunder rumbles outside again; rain splashes hard against the glass. Inside, though, he feels warm.

#answers #crimzoncrow #had to change the wording slightly bc tim is NOT that formal ever but <3 #slaps roof of kon this bad boy can store so much depression in him #timkon #tim #kon #grooming mention

[secondgenerationnerd]

Growing up

Finally got around to writing this!

—————————

With Omega’s weekly supervisors called away on a mission, the Titans offered to step in. After all, over half the teams are related in some way. 15 year old Damian bickers with Tim over something stupid. Kon teases Jon every time the younger super kisses Mar’i Grayson’s cheek. The speedsters-Irey, Jai, and Bart-are bouncing around the room, talking at a million miles an hour. Cassie and Rose chat with Lian as the archer works on a new arrow.

Jaime has Colin helping him with dinner, the mouth watering smells filling the room. Milagro was supposed to be helping, but they’d barely seen her today. She’d locked herself in her room. Something about a time sensitive project.

Heads cocking, the ones with superhearing turn towards the door. Mar’i, bouncing on her toes, squeals, “Milagro’s coming now!”

The younger team look excited, even Damian has a a smile on his face. Jaime raises an eyebrow at his teammates. Given the confusion on their faces, of them know what’s happening either. Lian pulls out her phone as the door cracks open. The sweet voice of his younger sister drifts through, “Someone’s recording Jaime, right?”

Perking up at his name, he shoots a look at the door, “Mocosa, I swear to God—“

“It’s not bad! I just want your reaction to something.”

“Pinche…okay, what is it?”

The doors slide open more. Milagro glides into the room, a brilliant smile on her proud face, “I finished my Quiñce dress!”

She spins, allowing the fluffy skirts to billow out around her, flashing the matching flats underneath. The soft pink fabric makes her tan skin glow. Delicate beading covers the bodice and skirt, intricate patterns that could only have been hand sewn.

A few of the heroes take a peak at her older brother. Though far from crying, there’s a soft sadness in his dark eyes. A flood of memories washing over him, trying to place who the young woman infront of him was.

The squishy faced baby his parents brought home. The one that slept on his chest while he watched cartoons, or in the bassinet that had been in their family for generations. The one his parents named for the glorious miracle she was. The one who always splashed him when it was bathtime and Mamí let him help.

The stubborn toddler chasing after him and Ty, wanting them to play dress up with her. The one that would come into his room on rare stormy days. The one he could always make laugh with a funny face, or calm down when their parents couldn’t. The one he taught to skateboard by holding both her hands as he ran with her.

The giggly little girl that would run up to him, holding his hand as they walked home from school. Some guys had teased him about it, but Jaime didn’t pay them any attention. He’d never admit it, but it was the best part of his day. The only one who never gave up that he was alive.

Is this the same little girl who made him a big brother?

“Jaime?” Milagro’s voice breaks his train of thought. She looks at him expectantly, fiddling with her hands, “¿qué opinas?”

His proud, confident, head strong sister…looks nervous. Like his approval means something to her. Then it hits him.

To her, it does mean something.

Tilting his head, he looks her over, before a soft smile graces his handsome face, “…Are you still going to make me dance with you?”

A brilliant smile lights up her beautiful face, though mischief twinkles in her eyes, “I do have the contract you signed.”

“It was on construction paper and, technically, I was a minor—”

“That’s why I had Mamí y Papí witness it.” Milagro reminds him, “I will still allow you to pick the music as long as Mamí hears it too.”

“Deal.” He laughs, then offers her another smile, “Es perfecto, Mocosa Verde.”

Mar’i bounces on her toes, pulling on Tim’s arm, “Can we give it to her now, Uncle Timmy?”

“Yes, Star!” The older man laughs, “Go grab it.”

“Grab what?” Milagro asks, frowning as Mar’i flies to her dance bag on the hook. While she’s rummaging around in it, Damian speaks before his brother can.

“An early gift from Mother and Father. Father remembers how important a Bat Mitzvah was to Grandmother, and Mother insisted on personally picking out the gift.”

Mar’i flies back over to her friend. Setting a simple box on the counter, the younger girl straightens up, “You told me that you wanted to feel like a princess at your quince.”

Her own accent trips on the unfamiliar word, but that doesn’t change her smile. Mar’i opens the box to reveal a beautiful tiara. Soft pink gems match the beading on her bodic and the sliver exactly what Milagro had dreamed of. Mar’i lifts it up, floating to be above Milagro, “Every princess needs a crown!”

“I-I can’t accept—“

“You will.” Damian says simply, “Mother won’t hear a word otherwise.”

“Damn, Mil,” Lian whistles, circling her friend with the phone to snap pictures, “I think this is your best work yet!”

“Thank you!” The lantern beams, “I’m going to change before dinner.”

As she disappears again, the other begin to wrap up their activities and head towards the table. Jaime takes a moment to breathe, wrapping his head around the big change happening soon.

“You good, dude?” Kon asks, taking the stack of plates from the counter. Jaime nods.

“Just…younger siblings you know?”

The super laughs at that, “Trust me, it’s weirder when they start dating.”

#milagro reyes #jaime reyes #mar'i grayson #irey west #damian wayne #lian harper #jai west #jon kent #colin wilkes #bart allen #cassie sandsmark #kon el #kon kent #conner kent #tim drake #blue beetle #rose wilson #green lantern