#the only question is how are they going to explain this to kon once he's back from the dead

[hyperblue]

justice league: we should probably isolate red robin from this child. his current mental state makes him a questionable guardian at best and outright dangerous at worst

meanwhile literally tim and the clone baby:

i mean. they can TRY

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Clone Danny Fenton amuses me so here's another dumb crossover idea: Danny is one of the "failed" clones of Kon that Tim tried to make, but clockwork snatched his lifeless baby corpse before Tim could dispose of it (Tim just assumed he did when it disappeared, writing it off as he did it while too sleep deprived to remember clearly or something) and CW uses the pit to revive it before dropping him off with the Fentons in a completely different dimension.

Danny knows he's adopted and realizes he's not normal fairly early on, but doesn't manifest the more noticeable of his powers til after his accident, so he blames it all on his halfa status and not the alien heritage he has no way of knowing about. Once shit hits the fan and his dimension is no longer safe for him to live in, CW sits him down and explains both his alien (in more ways than one) and clone statuses. CW then offers Danny the chance to meet his maker and template, which Danny agrees to because why not? He's got nothing to lose. Danny's injured 16 y/o ass is then dropped a short distance from a timberkon (who are now in their early 30s because that'd how time works) date/hangout and Danny just plops himself at their table and steals some of Tim and Kon's food before literally any words are exchanged.

Kon, freaking out because this kid looks like him???: Uhhhh??? Kid??

Tim, bewildered: Who?? What?? Kid, wtf??? Do we know you??

Danny, swallowing his mouthful of stolen food: Yes and no.

Danny, points lazily at Tim: Creator.

Danny, equally lazy point to Kon: Template.

Danny, blinking slowly at Bernard: I don't think you had anything to do with HOW I'm here, but as you clearly are part of this now, surprise, it's a scientific freak of nature.

Danny, ignoring the devastated looks on his "parents'" faces and steals more food while continuing: He/him pronouns and I go by Danny. AND ONLY Danny, not Daniel, not Danno, and certainly not Dan.

Tim, slowly takes a deep breath and slides most of his meal towards the clearly starving child: Danny... You're NOT a freak, kiddo

Danny, seems to beam without changing his expression when he's got the food in his hands before processing how his comment must have sounded without context: Oh-ho! But I am! Finding out I was a half human alien clone was just the icing on the cake, really! I had an accident that I'm pretty sure destroyed all my flimsy human dna. I'm now half something else, that hilariously has a lot of crossover powers so I just assumed my accident gave me all of them before the dude that cradle robbed my dead baby corpse from the evil mastermind lab my creator.. has? Had? Meh. Who cares. But baby me was very dead and then he did something and I wasn't. This is where I inform you I grew up in a different dimension and know jack shit about this one.

Bernard: Okay, I have so many questions

Kon: Me too! What's your other half? What's your dimension like? Why did you seek us out now? What's your favourite colour? Any food restrictions? Do you have a place to stay? Why is your heart rate so slow? What's that buzzing sound coming from your chest? What-

Tim: KON! Let the kid actually tell you answers!

Bernard, sliding some of his food over to Danny while eyeing the subtily stiff way Danny is moving: Plus, the more pressing question is, how hurt are you, Danny?

Kon: You're HURT???

Danny, frowns at Bernard ratting him out before turning his attention back to the food in front of him: I got vivisected, it's fine, it's healing

The adults all suck in a sharp breath before sharing a look. They agree this is their kid now and people can take him from them over their cold dead bodies.

Danny feels 3 shiny new parental bonds snap into place, startling the shit out of him. He didn't think they'd want him tbh, AND he didn't think they'd have enough ectoplasum to even do a claiming like that. He nearly starts crying, BECAUSE THESE PEOPLE WANT HIM.

Tim, concerned: Danny? What's wrong?

Danny, blinking wetly: You're liminals?

Bernard: "Liminals"?

Danny: Human with ectoplasum in their system. I just.. you want me?

Kon, sacrificing what's left of his food to Danny: I don't know what that means. AND of course we want you. You're family now.

Tim, nodding: There's no escape.

The adults all giggles, thinking of different situations with supers or bats or both. It only lasts a second because Danny bursts into tears, just completely overwhelmed by the situation. The adults instinctively get closer, but don't touch, unsure if it would help or worsen Danny's state.

Tim: Danny?

Kon: Would you like a hug-oof!

Danny dives into Kon's side and desperately clings to him with enough force to break a human's ribs. Tim and Bernard crowd closer and rub his back in soothing motions.

Bernard: What's wrong, kiddo?

Danny: Dani should have been here too!

Tim: Danny? I thought your name was Dani?

Danny: She was Dani with one n and an I. I'm Danny with two n's and a y. She- She was my clone, but...

Bernard: You don't have to tell us

Danny: ...She wasn't super stable. I'd help her restabilize every time she started to destabilize, but... but I got caught! She came for help and got caught too! I watched her melt in that shitty lab! There was so much- I wanted- SHE'S GONE!

The adults are devastated. Kon squeezes Danny tightly.

Kon, softly: tell us about her?

And so Danny does. Explaining how she came to be, their first interactions, her strong and independent personality, the little souvenirs she brought him while she traveled to figure herself out, how her condition always worried him, but she wouldn't-couldn't stay with him, and how he wanted to talk about finding her a new name because she deserved to have her own name, not something that reminds her she's a defective clone, but he never got the chance. He has a messy breakdown while explaining her final moments and how his bindings, power suppression cuffs chained to the floor and a muzzle, prevented him from giving her comfort and how SHE apologized to HIM. He thought he was going to die with her in that moment, his core cracking at her loss.

This leads to a short explanation of his ghost biology and how dangerous a cracked core is. And by then, he's flagging, so the adults start persuading the kid to crash in their guest room, with the promise of dinner.

Thus begins the process of timberkon convincing Danny to stay with them. Teaching the kid about his original dimension and the many heroes. They get him so MANY books about space and alien civilizations once they find out his obsession (literally) with that kind of thing. Danny still misses his sisters and friends like an amputated arm, but he slowly rebuilds, letting himself gain a new family and new friends.

His introduction to both the Bats and Supers could have gone better.

He's suspicious and wary of Clark the whole time he was meeting the Kents because of how Clark has treated his own clones in the past. Danny doesn't understand him, and Clark doesn't truly understand, but is more sad than anything about it and accepts he made his bed, now he must lay in it. He warms up to the rest fairly quickly. He's also introduced to Bizarro and Clara eventually and that goes well.

With the Bats, Danny, Bruce, and Dick verbally pace around each other. Bruce deep throating his foot, and Dick not being much better while trying to keep the peace. The rest watch on with amusement before the show is a cut short by Damian of all people intervening. The problem is Damian snuck up behind (unintentionally), grabbed his shoulder while calling Danny "Daniel" (something he was informed to NOT do), and Danny's brain went "VLAD FOUND ME??" (despite there being no way, CW will not let him find Danny) and reacts with violence. Damian barely escaped having any broken bones, that being said, where Danny grabbed to literally throw Damian has DEEP bruising, that arm was dislocated, he has more bruising from hitting the floor, and gained a concussion. Danny apologizing profusely while scolding this 28 y/o man about sneaking up on him AND using a name he specifically told everyone NOT to use. Damian is man enough to apologize while Alfred patches him up. Meeting Duke and Cass is nice, he's unsure about Steph (because how rambunctious she is) and Alfred, Barbara makes him homesick for Jazz, and Jason is funny til he gets a heart attack in the form of Danny offering to eat the corrupt ectoplasum (Lazarus waters) out of him. There's chaos after that, but it eventually calms down, especially since timberkon are protective of their baby and Tim looks like he's about to go super villain on them the moment "tests" are brought up. Danny is embarrassed and pleased as his Creator (he never stops jokingly calling Tim that, Kon gets Template, and Bernard is Human, when they aren't just called their name. Eventually he calls them all dad, though Bernard is sometimes called mom) threatens to ruin their everything if they continue. Threats they take seriously because they know Tim will follow through. After that it goes well.

[eggfriedricedwasian]

TimKon clone baby au but Tim heals after creating the baby.

Tim disappears after achieving Bruce back from the time stream, well he sent the information on how to get Bruce back from the tim stream rather.

The fight with Ra's, the LOA, all that happens, except, once he's fixed up, he leaves. Drops off the radar.

He's still severely unstable. Almost as if he's catatonic.

But he makes it to the lab, freeing the growing baby from the green liquid, grabbing the thing no, girl, this baby, his baby, was a girl.

He has a daughter.

Daughters are the most precious thing the world can offer.

He now has the most precious thing in the world. The most precious little girl he's ever looked at.

Hell hath no fury like a mother without a child.

So Tim drops off the radar. He goes somewhere secluded, cheap, and away from crime and heroism.

He raises his daughter, he fixes himself, he learns, she learns, he grows, and she grows up.

While he's being the best most doting dad in the world to his daughter, little Mary-Jane Drake-Wayne(-Kent), the Bats, with the newly returned Bruce, look for Tim.

Kon and Bart, who returned from the dead, also look for Tim.

Kon, of course, was the one who finds Tim first. Tim and a baby. An 8 month old baby.

This baby has fair skin, wavy bed headed locks, and bright blue eyes. This baby was on her stomach with her head up, hair standing up all over the place, looking at Kon, while snuggled in the crook of Tim's arm.

Tim was sleeping, legs curled up on his side with his arm out underneath the baby girl and his hand resting on her back.

"Ah"

The sound of the baby's voice snaps Kon's attention to her. She's so small and yet so big. Since when did Tim have a kid? And with who?

Tim stirs awake slowly and Kon holds his breath.

"Mmm.. MJ, what are you doing up so early, sweetie?"

Tim turns on his back, putting the baby called MJ(who is in the most adorable Superboy onsie ever) on his stomach.

Mj doesn't turn her head to him, eyes still transfixed on Kon's figure.

Tim turns to look over and sits up, pulling MJ closer to him chest, hugging her tight, and pulls a knife out from under the bed, backing up towards the wall.

"Hey, hey, it's just me, Tim."

"N-No! I don't know who you are, but you aren't Kon!"

It pains Kon to hear that.

"It is me."

Tim shakes his head.

"If it really was you, you'd tell me something only him and I know.

"One time, when we were on Young Justice, you almost gave away your secret identity to me before Batman said you could, but you did it anyways."

Tim seemed to calm at that. He slowly puts the knife down, and back where it was.

"H-how?"

"Tim travel stuff. Was with the Legion of Heroes in the future recovering for a bit before they sent me back."

That would explain it.

Tim slowly scooted off the bed, standing, but not letting go of his baby. God his baby.

They stand in silence for a while longer, looking between each other, and Kon between Tim and MJ.

"Who's the mother?"

He asks. He's not sure why he did. Why would he care?

Tim seems taken aback by the question. But he avoids it, smoothly, as if he was preparing for this scenario, in this way or another, to happen.

"You can join us for breakfast."

Kon agrees.

The kitchen is small.

It has a counter island protruding from the wall acting as both a counter space island and a table. There were two chairs at it, plus a high chair.

"Sit here, baby."

Kon hears Tim whisper to MJ as he sets her down in the high chair.

She fusses very little as she gets buckled in. She settles just as fast when Tim gives her a toy. It makes noises as she swings it around, smiling brightly.

She has Tim's smile. Kon thinks distantly, looking at the way her cheeks squished and her gummy smile showed. The dimpled weren't Tim's, though.

When Kon looks at Tim, he doesn't know what to expect. Tense? Sure. Shaking? Maybe.

He wasn't expecting Tim to be smooshing bananas in a bowl with a fork, putting a baby spoon in it and putting it in front of MJ for her to eat, all with a small smile on his face.

A smile he's never seen before. It's domestic. Motherly sort of domestic. His eyes are crinkled, his smile is so full of love for the little baby laughing and making a mess of her face, chair, clothes, and bib while she ate mushed bananas.

"Tim.."

Tim's smile falls shortly down, if he wasn't watching all that closely he wouldn't have seen it.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"... Pancakes, if that's alright.."

Tim nods, turning and grabbing an apron, putting it on.

The apron said "World's Best Housewife" on it.

He grabbed a bowl, a pan, flour, eggs, oil, butter, milk, and chocolate chips and whatever else.

He made the batter, started up the heat on the gas stove, then added the batter, before plating and placing the pancakes, three on each. Syrup sat in the middle, which both of them drowned their pancakes in.

They started eating in silence next to each other. MJ's baby noises were the only thing that kept the silence even remotely tolerable.

"She's a clone..."

Tim started.

He looked at Tim shocked. Of course he was shocked. She was a clone!

"...Of us.."

Kon's heart stopped beating for a second. If the white noise generator wasn't going off somewhere in the house, he was sure he could hear Tim's heart beating really fast.

"...that I made."

Kon's world took a turn.

Tim Drake, his best friend, his Robin, someone he had confided in about his upbringing as a clone, made MJ out of both of their DNA in a lab as a clone.

"What."

He no longer felt hungry. He felt.. He didn't know what he felt. There were so many mixed emotions going through him right now.

Anger? His best friend cloned him after he told him how he hated being cloned.

Joy? He has a daughter. A daughter Tim made. Why did Tim make her?

"It was a hard time for me. I lost you, Bart, my dad, and then Bruce. I tried to clone you and Bart, and I had the bright idea of adding my DNA to the mixture when cloning you. It worked, and now she's here, and I'm here, and.. you're back."

He said it as if he didn't want Kon back.

Kon was about to speak up when Tim beat him to it.

"It's great that you're back, Kon, but I broke your trust and promise by making her. But she's my kid, so you don't have to stay, you can leave. I'm fine right where I'm at and I'm not going back, to the Bats, to the Waynes, to no one. Not even for you."

For the first time since their first meeting that morning, Tim looked at Kon. His eyes held such fierce determination, love, and compassion in them. All those felt for MJ, not for him.

What did he even say to that. What did he even do.

MJ was his kid too, right? She was a clone of Kon and him, so that makes her his child as much as Tim's, no?

Would Tim even let him be her other dad? Did he even want to be her other dad?

He did.

Lex and Clark didn't treat him like their son and he was their *technical* kid. He wanted oh so desperately to have parents that loved him, he wanted to give MJ that since he didn't get that.

She didn't deserve it. She was just a baby. A baby Tim made out of grief for him dying.

"What's her name?"

He asks instead of everything else.

".. Mary-Jane."

Tim answers after his initial shock at the question.

Tim turns back to her, seeing her finished with the bananas, now content playing with her toy while she stares at her father.

Tim takes the bowl and goes to put it and the plates in the sink, then cleans MJ up and the chair before extracting her and heading over to the diaper changing table in another room to change her diaper.

The door was still ajar so he could see Tim change her diaper and clothes and hear as she giggled while her father cooed at her and poked at her nose and belly and kissed her face.

I should be doing that too.

"Tim."

He calls when Tim walks back out.

Tim stops right outside the room's door, holding MJ, Mary-Jane, in his hip. She was now in a light blue little blouse and denim blue jean skirt with cute ruffled socks and a little bonnet.

"Can I.. I want to.."

He couldn't form his question.

"Could I be her other father?"

He blurts out instead.

They both stare at each other for what felt like the longest time of Kon's life.

"Really?"

Tim finally asks.

He nods, pushing his lips in a thin line and furrowing his brows, expecting a no for an answer.

"Okay."

"What?"

"I said, okay."

Kon looked bewildered despite hearing his answer.

"I know you, Kon. I know how you felt about Clark and Lex when it came to parenting, I expected this, actually. You want to be there for her, unlike they were with you. I had time to think about it these past few months."

That actually.. made sense, but it didn't at the same time.

Tim motioned for Kon to follow as he sat down on the couch. Kon sat next to him.

"Want to hold her?"

He nodded immediately, and was given MJ before he could finish.

She was small, so very light in his arms as she stared up at him with those big blue beautiful eyes, his eyes.

"She helped me, ya know."

Kon looked at him, adjusting his hold on her so she could hold his finger.

Tim watched her intently.

"I was in a really dark place when I had her, when we first came here. I didn't know what to do, but I knew I had to take care of her. But I knew I couldn't with how I was. So I got better, for her. She helped me. I've been clean, I've been taking care of myself, eating 3 meals a day, cleaning the house, raising her, taking medicine, regularly working out, meditating, sleeping a full 8 hours, and napping with her."

He paused to get a breath in.

"I don't regret it, leaving, going off the radar. I've never been more healthy and more stress free, and more alive in my life."

"I'm never going back."

Kon leaves it at that.

He doesn't know much about what happened, but he doesn't care anymore. This is his family. And he isn't going to leave it.

[sdmnpact]

Sloppy.

Wroetoshaw x Reader smut

** MDNI 18+ **

[] Inspo: Harry saying "What about my sloppy cock." in one of the latest Sidemen vids.

~~~

You were in the meeting room gathering your things. The sidemen had a shoot earlier that day and you as one of their photographers, of course had to be there. Most of the day you followed Harry's team. Harry. The one that you fancied from the bunch.

You know nothing will ever happen between you two but you can't help but daydream about him every now and then.

You were almost done, just finishing putting your camera away when you heard the door click open. You turned around quickly since you were supposed to be the last person there except for maybe Kon.

"Oh? Sorry, thought I was the only one here." He said. Of course it had to be Harry. "Oh. It's alright, I was about to head off anyway." You said with a breathy laugh slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"How've you been?" He asked. You don't usually converse with each other. Usually you just talk when you need to and that's about it. You exchange the occasional glance outside of actually working but you two have never had the chance to befriend each other that way.

"I've been well, thanks for asking." You replied. "How about you?" You questioned. You didn't really know what to do in this situation. It was slightly awkward and you just wanted to go home. "I've been doing good, how do you like the job so far?" He asked. 'Why is he asking so many questions?' You thought to yourself.

"Oh I love it! I like watching you guys film and I love taking pictures so it's just a good time." You explained. "Glad you like it!" He said with a pause. "Ca- can I tell you something?" He continued with a stutter. You were hesitant but nodded your head.

He took a step closer to you, his breath hitting your face. You felt yourself get tense. You looked up at him as he towered over you. You were unsure of what was going on but you were nervous.

"You know, it's hard to focus on filming videos whenever you're around." He began. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused about what he was talking about. "You're always bouncing around with those short skirts or tight jeans you always wear. I have to admit, it's hard not to stare." He said looking straight into your eyes. You were very worried now. Maybe he's going to fire you? Your mind began to spiral with the different possibilities.

"I am so sorry, I promise I won't wear anything like that again!" You exclaimed. "No- it's alright... I like it." He said making your heart begin to beat faster. He stepped forward again, causing you to gasp at the sudden closeness.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, his voice deep, his tone softening. You nodded your head slowly. His hand reached up to grab your jaw gently, bending down, placing his lips on yours. You leaned into the kiss grabbing the back of his shirt as the soft kiss turned into one full of lust and hunger by the second.

One of his hands still on your jaw while the other made their way towards your bottom. You felt him as he placed a hand underneath your skirt touching your butt cheek. His cold hand making you wince at the touch.

He pulled back, making you miss his lips. "Do you want this?" He asked breathing deeply, squeezing your butt cheek lightly. You looked up at him with puppy eyes making him want you even more. Once again, you didn't utter a word, just nod your head innocently. He smiled widely, grabbing your waist and hoisting you up on the meeting table.

His lips making their way back towards yours, now more aggressive than before. Your hands making their way under his shirt, your nails softly going up and down his back. He moved his hand down to the front of your skirt, feeling underneath for your heat. You usually wear spandex underneath but were late this morning and forgot, you were so glad you did though.

His hand pushed your legs open slightly, allowing for his fingers to explore the area between your legs, brushing his fingers between your inner thigh. "You're already wet, aren't you." He said with a small laugh. You felt him find the top of your underwear, gently pulling on them for you to help take them off.

He slid them down your legs, staring up at you and holding them in front of you. "You're dripping." He said bringing a blush to your cheeks. "I'll clean you up, darling." He said, lowering himself between your legs. Seconds later, you felt his tongue make contact with your folds. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, tilting your head back. Your hands found their way towards his hair, tugging on it lightly.

His tongue swirled around your heat, as he held your legs for support. Your moans got louder as he began sucking on your folds lightly. He looked up at you briefly, admiring the sight, your head tilted back and mouth slightly open, enjoying yourself fully. You were the most beautiful thing in the world to him in that moment.

You felt yourself getting close as he kept exploring every inch of your heat with his tongue hungrily as if he couldn't get enough.

Suddenly, you felt emptiness as his tongue left your area. "Don't worry darling, can't let you have all the fun." He smirked, pulling his shorts and briefs down revealing his erect member. You licked your lips at the sight of him.

He positioned himself in your entrance and looked at you for reassurance. You nodded at him as he grabbed his member, rubbing his tip along your entrance causing you to jerk forward. Slowly, he began entering you as your neediness for him increased.

He began thrusting into you slowly but steadily increasing the pace as you let out soft moans that got louder matching his speed. He also released beautiful sounds of his own, making you want him even more. Your moans and his grunts filled the meeting room.

His hands gripping your hips, holding onto you as your hands kept you upright on the table. Your stomach beginning to form knots as you felt yourself about to release. He pulled you closer, almost picking you up from the table as his speed increased, going as fast as he could, feeling himself about to release as well.

Your hands moved to his neck as he was basically holding you at this point. Your bodies molding into one as he slammed in and out of you rapidly. His grunts quickly turning into soft moans as he began getting tired but couldn't stop because you were both about to reach climax.

Shortly afterwards, you felt a warm liquid fill you up as you felt yourself release your own juices all over him. He slowed down, placing you back on the table, still inside of you. He was no longer thrusting but he remained inside of you, too high to pull out. You two stayed like that for a few seconds catching your breaths. You stared at each other, your forehead against his.

He slowly pulled himself out of you revealing his messy cock, dripping with both of your liquids. "Oh god, what a mess." He smirked. "You know... you helped me." You began saying. "You wanna suck my sloppy cock then?" He asked cheekily. You nodded slowly as you stepped of the table, getting on your knees in front of him.

You looked up at him as if for reassurance and he nodded. You leaned forward and slowly began licking all over his member, cleaning all the liquid off of him. His head went back as your tongue swirled around him. After cleaning up most of the mess, you took his entire member into your mouth. He released a loud moan at the sudden action, bring a smile to your face.

You slowly bobbed your head back and forth on him, his hand making it's way to your head for support. You tried taking him as deep as you could, bringing tears to your eyes. His beautiful moans were the motivation you needed to go faster, getting sloppier in your motions. "Fuck." He let out as you felt him twitch in your mouth. You moaned loudly hoping that would bring him more pleasure, pushing him right over the edge.

Once again, his liquid filled you up, leaving you with warm cum running down your throat. You pulled off of him as he helped you stand up. Both of you still in a state of euphoria at the intense emotions and feelings you had just gone through. You two put your clothes back on, both too tired to speak until he broke the silence.

"We should definitely do this again sometime."

[happythecow]

Y'know how batman said his name was batman when bound by the Lasso of truth, possibly due to his disassociation from the Bruce Wayne persona and possibly due to self imposed brainwashing? Well once the rest of the batfamily finds out about it, specifically Tim Drake, he asks both Wonder Girls (Cassie and Donna) to borrow the Lasso. Kon-el Superboy is there as well as Tim's control group. so after explaining his plan to everyone involved, he explains that he is testing to see if it was possible to trick himself into tricking the Lasso of truth.

Jason Todd unwittingly walks into the room ( they are at the manor under the guide of planning a celebration) as they are testing and suggests to Tim to, instead of redefining the rules of the Lasso, redefine what constitutes as an appropriate answer to questions. As such, whenever Jason Todd gets Lasso'd and asked questions, he speaks in broken Russian to throw people off. Damian just speaks Arabic to inconvenience them. When tim looks confused about why jason is lassod enough to need to know this, jason explains that this is why he got the best at game night with the league. Everyone gets a moment of understanding over this revelation.

Tim, who was never told about game night, is more confused than ever, but takes the advice to heart and uses it as an excuse to learn and use Klingon.

The only batfamily members to be consistently allowed into game night are Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson, because Bruce doesn't actually play, and Grayson doesn't go all out.jason stoped getting invites after dying,and only returns as Dick's plus one occasionally. Tim was never invited because it was unanimously decided he would win.

Tim is hurt by this

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-eight of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” ( and the start of a new scene! ) behind the cut. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“How’s school?” Tim asks, since how’s your mom and are you still living AT school due to her being who she is as a person? is both a loaded question and too obvious an approach. Cissie raises an eyebrow at him anyway. Tim is reminded that Dick did not in any way make an illogical leap by assuming that she was the kind of person he’d be attracted to, but also is not quite there. 

No, he’s apparently just into their other resident child-star/teen-idol superhero (and HOW do they have TWO of those and WHY did he not think about how actually insane that concept actually is sooner?), or maybe he’s just into loud braggy attention-hog assholes who look unbearably good in leather pants and unbearably cute when they blush and can also put away a straight-up inadvisable amount of grilled cheese sandwiches and can’t do an ollie to save his life. 

“It’s fine, Dad, did my homework and everything,” Cissie replies dryly, still eyeing him with a faint note of suspicion in her expression. They’re both sitting at the kitchen table, which in retrospect was definitely the wrong place to do this; obviously she’s going to get suspicious if he not only sits down at the table with her but makes small talk without a plausible-deniability excuse to hand. “How’s your school?” 

“. . . did my homework and everything,” Tim lies, and Cissie snorts.

Bart zips past them in a rush of wind and zips back the way he came a moment later; Cissie just covers the top of her Soder can to make sure nothing he’s kicked up ends up in it. Tim isn’t drinking anything, so just has to worry about not ending up with his cape flipped over his head again. 

He might’ve started wearing weighted capes to the Justice Cave lately. Just because. Definitely not for any reasons related to preserving his image as team leader in order to keep being seen as the thinly-allowed authority figure that said leader needs to be in emergencies and crisis situations or anything like that. 

Look, just because that level of subtle social manipulation of his teammates and sort-of-friends is questionable at best doesn’t mean it’s not occasionally necessary. Especially in relation to preparing for life-or-death situations where those teammates all need to know that they can trust their leader and he needs to know none of them are going to decide to take things into their own hands and run off on their own, which is definitely a concern in a group with this many vigilantes who’ve done more solo work than partnered or teamed-up and just about all have very strong personalities, even if some of them are quieter about it. 

. . . he’s doing his best so far as limiting the “running off on their own” issue, alright? 

The team’s meeting up for the weekend, and they’re all just supposed to be hanging out for it–or at least that’s the plan, anyway. Admittedly something might blow up or a natural disaster might happen or a supervillain might attack Happy Harbor and then “hanging out” will once again turn into “badly-controlled highly-public chaos” he needs to avoid cameras during and they also might have to worry about more nuns or Hugga-Tugga-Thugees or another Nina Dowd incident happening to them, and then have to worry about explaining all those things to Red Tornado later, but Tim’s pretty sure that’s just gonna be team SOP at this point. 

Bart zips by again and leaves a trail of streamers and glitter and mahjong tiles scattered all over the kitchen and down the hall, and somewhere a set of speakers goes off with a burst of loud static and blaring heavy metal music and then immediately cuts out again. Tim decides to just not ask this time. The answer isn’t gonna make any sense to anyone outside of Bart’s head anyway, except maybe Suzie, and that’s frankly being optimistic. 

Definitely the badly-controlled chaos is team SOP though, yeah. Very, very much is it team SOP.

[raynewolferune]

Meta Jazz, the Arkham Intern Therapist Pt 2.1

Note: The writing bug bit me while wading through the comments and replies so you guys get more! 😁 Special thanks to @the-scarecrow-of-aus & @starlightcat04 for helping spark this continuation!

Also, so you're not confused, this part is from Kon's POV and backtracks to before the Bane incident to explain how Kon started going undercover in Arkham. Pt 2.2 has the Bane incident from Kon's POV.

~*~*~

When Kon got the call from Tim asking if he'd be willing to do a favor for him, he hadn't expected it to be an undercover assignment in the infamous Arkham Asylum itself.

"You want me to do what?" He asked staring at Tim in disbelief once he reached the Nest to debrief.

"Go undercover as a new guard in Arkham." Tim repeated with a deadpan expression looking over his shoulder at Kon from his computer chair. Holy fuck, his eyebags were bad. 

"Have you slept in the past week, Tim?" Kon asked, taking in his best friend's appearance.

Tim frowned at the question. 

"I don't see how that's relevant but yes." He answered, heartbeat unchanging. Which didn't really mean anything since it was Tim but Kon decided he'd believe him. 

For now. 

Kon sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, I'll do it." He said. "Can you tell me why we need someone undercover at least?" 

Tim eyes widened, startled by the question like he was surprised Kon didn't know yet even though Tim hadn't told him yet. Okay, deep breaths, calm down, Tim clearly hasn't slept in at least two days. Kon coached himself as his temper flared up at the evidence that Tim wasn't taking care of himself again. All the Supers agreed: sometimes you just wish you could beat some sense into the Bats and make them take care of themselves like normal human beings.

"Ah. Right." Tim said, turning back to the computer and pulling up some files as he explained. "Two thing have occured within roughly fifteen days of each other that together are rather suspicious. First, Dr. Thomas Rylie, Jonathan Crane's undergraduate roommate and classmate throughout undergrad and grad school, was hired to work as one of the new in house psychiatrists at Arkham Asylum. They also got their doctorates from the same school during the same time frame and both focused on the impact fear has on the brain. Dr. Rylie's focus was on fear conditioning and Dr. Crane's focus was on fear responses." Well, that sounds suspicious. 

"Second, Gotham University lost their minds and began an undergraduate and graduate internship program partnering with Arkham Asylum." 

Kon went cold. They did what?

Pictures of the Asylum, University, and three people -presumably Scarecrow, Dr. Rylie, and a young woman- filled the computer screen now. 

"The internship program has only one applicant so far and she'd already started working at the Arkham. Her name is Jasmine Fenton and her background is...sparse, to say the least." Tim turned in his chair to face Kon.

"I'm too recognizable in Gotham and among the rogues to successfully go undercover in Arkham so I've set you up with an apartment and ID as 'Kyle Jennings.' You're scheduled to start work at Arkham as a new guard tomorrow morning."

"Okay," Kon said with a nod. "What do you need confirmed? What are the primary objectives?" He prodded Tim again since his friend's sleep deprived brain seemed to think that was enough information for debriefing. It wasn't. Definitely not. A lot was implied but it wouldn't be the first time Tim had completely different intentions than what Kon had understood from his briefing. Sleep deprived Tim frequently assumed others could read his mind or something. Sleep deprived Tim was wrong.

"We need to determine if Dr. Rylie is here working for Scarecrow as part of some new scheme. We need to determine if Jasmine Fenton is complicit. We need to know if Gotham U is also in on it. And we need to find out what exactly Scarecrow is the planning." Tim stated automatically as he ticked each one off on his fingers.

"Got it. Guess I'll head over to my new apartment then and start prepping for tomorrow." Kon said, heading towards the exit. Tim hummed in agreement waving a hand in his direction as he left. That dumbass was probably already absorbed in the next case. Kon sighed, hopefully Tim would at least pass out sometime later tonight.

~*~*~

Kon's first day at Arkham wasn't anything special. He didn't see Jasmine, Dr. Rylie, or Scarecrow. He didn't see any rogues or doctors at all. It was just a really Gotham kind of orientation. 

"This is where we keep a cache of stun grenades, long-range scope rifles, tranquilizer rounds, and rubber bullets." His new supervisor and guide through orientation, Alex Fhizer, said as he showed Kon how to access, inventory, lock, and re-conceal the cache. "Everytime you pass by a cache on patrol, you will check the inventory again and sign off on it with the date and time. If anything is different from the previous inventory entry, you will immediately radio the tower and the island will be put on lockdown." Greyish Hazel eyes peered out of a weathered face staring Kon down. "You will never neglect to inventory a cache while on patrol. You will never neglect to report an inventory discrepancy. The first time you do you will be fired immediately and you can count yourself damn lucky if that's all that happens to you." 

Fhizer was intense, man.

"Yes, Sir." Kon answered. Fhizer's hard look lasted another long moment before the older man gave a firm nod and continued showing Kon the ropes.

~*~*~

The second day was no where near as chill as the first. Hell, his brain was already starting to warp, there hadn't been anything chill about that orientation.

Kon started his second day by boarding the Arkham transport bus with the rest of the staff and early morning visitors to the island. That was where he saw Jasmine Fenton in the flesh for the first time. 

She has got to be part Amazonian, was his first thought upon seeing her. She was around 6ft tall with a thick mane of red hair tightly braided reaching all the way down to her waist. Jasmine was wearing teal stud earrings, a silver bangle type bracelet on her left wrist, a white blouse, black slacks, and black flats. She carried a small, clear purse that only held a small notepad, pen, house key, chapstick, and a thin teal wallet that presumably contained her IDs, debit cards, and a small amount of cash. Damn, she was tall.

Kon's concentration was broken by the quiet sound of metal crunching slightly beneath his fingers. He immediately loosened his grip on the hand rail, checking for damage with a wince. He breathed a soft sigh of relief when he saw the damage was almost entirely unnoticeable to the naked eye. He'd have to mind his strength more closely. Kon was too used to the farm and facilities that were all reinforced to handle casual use from people with super strength. 

Tim's notes indicated Arkham wasn't reinforced for super strength anywhere. Not even along the outer walls. The facility had opted to use suppression collars on their meta inmates instead since they were cheaper and easier to repair and replace according to the official reports. However, Tim's notes had also mentioned that Arkham had reinforced the outer walls to account for super strength at one point. They'd poured nearly every dime the facility could spare into the project for months until the Joker himself had taken it personally. The madman had absolutely obliterated the reinforced outer walls until no part of them remained standing. Given Joker had destroyed the walls without having any meta powers at all and his history of viciously attacking -damn near mauling- anyone that tried to put him in a straight jacket, Kon didn't really blame Arkham for stopping while they were ahead.

Kon looked up as the bus jolted to a stop. The other passengers filing off around him. He watched as Jasmine Fenton was met by Dr. Rylie in front of the bus as he waited to disembark. 

"Ms. Jasmine!" Dr. Rylie greeted her enthusiastically with a broad open grin and beaming eyes. He reached towards her with both arms, hands open and she reached back. Their right hands clasped as their left hands landed on the other's upper arms as the two greeted one another openly. Kon wasn't very familiar with intern-mentor relationships nor what would be considered normal or professional for them, but it looked like a rather affectionate greeting for them having been strangers two weeks ago. That was strange, wasn't it? Was Tim right to be worried about them?

"Ms. Jasmine is the first and only applicant for Dr. Rylie, Director Keener, and Dean Byle's hairbrained idea to hire more doctors for this place." One of the older guards that had been standing just behind him on the bus explained having apparently noticed Kon watching the pair.

"They just seemed rather affectionate for Gotham." Kon shrugged dismissively as he turned to look over his shoulder at his new colleague. The shorter man laughed.

"A bit, yeah." He agreed. "I think Dr. Rylie is just desperate for this program to work out." He continued as they finally managed to get off the bus. Dr. Rylie and Ms. Fenton were gone now. "Pretty much everyone's been treating her like a princess." 

"That doesn't seem fair to everyone else." Kon commented, dropping back a bit to let the older man lead the way to the guards room for morning debriefing and to get their assignments. He'd already memorized the layouts but 'Kyle Jennings' shouldn't have yet.

"Who cares about fair as long as it works?" The guard answered. "If treating her like a princess scores more interns for the program in the long run, and if one intern every year ends up interested in sticking around, I'll be happy to cater to every single one of them." He confessed, stopping in the middle of the hall to turn and face Kon directly. Kon glimpsed the name Ryans as the silver name badge flashed the briefly reflecting the overhead lights. "You non-gothamites just don't get it. We're desperate for whatever help we can get." 

"That's why I applied here." Kon lied. "Going to school across the bay, I heard a lot about what went down over here while I was in college. I want to help." 

Ryans gave a short solemn nod then turned and led the rest of the way to the break room. 

~*~*~

Day four undercover was when Kon officially met Jasmine Fenton. 

Everything had been going well so far with his undercover assignment. He'd settled in to the role of Kyle Jennings, been getting along well with his new coworkers including Ryans and Fhizer, and hadn't yet managed to screw up inventorying the caches during the outer patrol loops. That being said, Kon was having other issues.

The worst part of being an unstable Kryptonian clone was that his strength tended to fluctuate. It normally wasn't much of an issue when he was surrounded by reinforced everything in his daily life but here at Arkham it was becoming a problem. Case in point, Kon thought to himself with an exhausted groan as his freshly made coffee mug shattered in his hand.

"Oh come on." He sighed snatching a handful of paper towels from the counter and bending to wipe up the coffee and ceramic shards on the floor. At least he was the only one in the room when it shattered. The door clicked softly behind him and Kon jumped twisting to look. 

Jasmine Fenton stood behind him having just closed the door to the break room after entering.

"What happened here?" She asked, sounding bewildered with slightly wide eyes as she took in the mess on the floor. Thank God. She didn't see it.

"Guess I was a bit more tired than I thought." He said with a forced laugh in order to hide his nerves. "Slipped right through my fingers."

She nodded, accepting his words at face value. 

"I've done that more than a few times close to finals." She admitted. "You guys have 10 hour shifts, right? You must be exhausted. When's your next day off?"

"The day after tomorrow." Kon said. "This is day 3 for me since orientation doesn't count."

"You get 2 days off followed by an on-call day, right?" She asked.

"Right," Kon agreed. "AKA 2 days of freedom and a day chained to the Bowery." He joked.

"Absolutely terrible, they may as well put an ankle monitor on you." She cracked back grinning. Kon snickered. The door opened again.

"I see you found another non-gothamite here." Dr. Rylie said striding into the break room with a wide grin.

"Sounds like that makes three of us." Kon agreed. Outside of Joker, he had never seen a gothamite grin that wide in his life.

"Dr. Thomas Rylie, a pleasure to meet you." Dr. Rylie introduced himself holding out his hand to shake. Kon shook his hand as gently as possible, mindful his strength was on the fritz.

"Kyle Jennings, nice to meet you. I just started as a guard earlier this week." He said then held his hand out to shake Jasmine's.

"Jasmine Fenton, I'm an intern therapist. This is my second week here." She greeted with a warm smile shaking Kon's hand. She didn't say anything about being glad to meet him, Kon noted. It wasn't exactly strange behavior but something made him take note of it anyway. Like by not saying it she was saying she hadn't decided whether meeting him was a good or bad thing yet. Dr. Rylie didn't seem to notice anything off with the interaction though as he went about making his own coffee. The three of them made idle small talk as they made their own coffees. Once his new cup was ready, Kon bid them both goodbye and went on his way. While they were his main objective, lingering too long this early into their aquantiantship would probably be strange.

He had several other small friendly interactions with both of them over the next few days. Taking the time for greetings, small talk, and sharing small bits of casual background info from Kyle Jennings's past to encourage them both to open up to him. He also broke a clipboard, two more coffee cups, several pens, and a doorknob during that time as his strength continued to fluctuate. The doorknob had been particularly embarrassing. He had gone to open the door for Jasmine when he saw her with her arms full of files and somehow managed to twist it in such a way that the screws holding it in place sheered off and the knob came off in his hand. Collins, his partner for building patrol that day, burst out laughing hysterically as Kon stared at the doorknob in horror.

"No worries, man." Collins said, clapping Kon on the shoulder still snickering. "Someone else probably broke it and put it back so they wouldn't get scolded or something."

"Yeah," Kon said with a nervous laugh. "That must be what happened."

Jasmine's eyes flicked between the two of them then she grinned.

"And here I thought you just really hated that door." She teased Kon. He felt his face heat up as Collins laughed at him again.

"It is an ugly door." Collins agreed enthusiastically smirking.

"Terribly ugly. Hideous even," Jasmine said with a smile.

"Possibly even traumatizing to behold," Collins continued to smirk.

"You've got me. I have a deep rooted traumatic fear of metal taupe doors." Kon deadpanned ears burning. Jasmine snickered as Kon got the door open for her and they went their separate ways.

~*~*~

"What have you found so far?" Tim asked. Kon did not have the words to express how much he didn't want to be at the Nest at 3am on his first day off from undercover work. If it was anyone other than Tim he wouldn't have even answered the phone.

"Literally nothing," Kon said dryly. "I am still the newest of newbies at Arkham. I practically spent the whole week being babysat by senior guardsmen." He sighed, reminding himself that it wasn't Tim's fault that he was a little insomniac goblin and that Kon really did love his friend and would be sad if he hurt Tim's feelings. Eventually. When he woke up again in the morning. "I did start befriending them both though. It's slow going since we're in different areas but nearly being the only non-gothamites there seems to be helping me make some headway at least." 

There was one other non-gothamite on staff, a medical nurse named Sharon Earley. She was in her mid-thirties and the most sour and unpleasant person Kon had had the displeasure of meeting so far on Arkham's staff. Not that Kon could blame her for that. Not when she had several large ragged scars spanning from her chin and down both of her arms from when Zsazz had gotten hold of her alone after dark her second year at Arkham. It was a damn miracle she'd survived him. Kon didn't know how she managed it but he wouldn't try to find out either. Ryans had taken him aside right before he first met Nurse Earley and warned him not to stare or ask about any of it and then explained the bare basics of what happened to her after they'd left. 

Tim probably had a file with every detail of that night as well as information about Sharon Earley's life both before and after that night somewhere on his computer. The thought made Kon nauseous. 

"Good, good," Tim said absently as he updated the mission file on his computer. The keys clicked so rapidly that Kon again reconsidered whether or not his best friend had super speed. "Better to keep them from suspecting than to rush in anyway." 

"Exactly." 

Tim continued asking questions about every little detail he could think of concerning Dr. Rylie, Jasmine Fenton, and the rogues currently in Arkham.

"They don't let me near those guys yet. I'm too new." Kon said when Tim asked if Scarecrow looked to be plotting more than usual.

"They don't?" Tim sounded surprised, going so far as to stop typing so he could turn and stare at Kon. The clone was amused to note something about his statement had managed to wake Tim up enough to be visibly shocked instead blank-faced with exhaustion.

"Of course not," Kon answered trying to keep the amusement from his voice as much as possible. "As many times as your rogues have broken out they're leary of letting new hires near them in case they're goons in disguise." 

Tim sank back into his chair looking like Kon had uprooted his whole world by proving the Earth really was flat via actual science.

"That's impossible." Tim said sounding faint. "Everytime there's a mass breakout, we always hear that some of the guards helped them escape. How?..." He trailed off, eyes darting rapidly like he was tracking lines of an invisible conspiracy board in the air in front of him. Kon shrugged, uncomfortable with this new information.

"Scuttlebutt is that the people helping them escape are visitors. The guards get blamed because the goons visit wearing clothes similar to the guard uniform from a distance. All blue polo shirts and black pants look similar at a distance." Kon explained. "It also doesn't help that the guards can't really do much to stop the escape attempts since they only have stun grenades, tranquilizer darts, batons, low voltage tazers, and rubber bullets to fight back with. So as long as enough people are involved in the escape attempt at least some of them will make it out even if the guards manage to to tranquilize several of them." 

Tim still looked like Kon was blowing his mind. It was such a rare experience that Kon had to continue.

"Plus the tranquilizer darts and the rubber bullets have to be fired from different hardware." Kon told him. "Which sucks because you have to carry twice the amount of weight while chasing after the escapees which slows you down and it takes longer to swap between them."

There was something similar to mystified horror spreading across his friend's face now.

"Speaking if swapping between them, they have different ranges too." Kon continued gleefully. Half because it was fun wrecking Tim's worldview and half to actually impart the information. "Batons are short-range. Tranquilializer darts and stun grenades are mid-range. Rubber bullet riffles are long-range."

"If that's all it is, WE can fund then better gear to control the inmates." Tim interrupted turning back to the computer and swiftly typing out a list of things to send Arkham. Kon shook his head.

"That won't work." He disagreed gently. "They aren't failing because of the gear itself."

Tim turned back around to face him, confused. This was not going to be a fun conversation, Kon swallowed hard and forced himself to continue.

"The problem is that if you fire the rubber bullet riffles from mid or short range you could seriously injury or even kill the patient. If they get past mid-range, you'll miss them completely using tranquilizer darts or stun grenades. If you try to use either of those at short-range it'll be bad for you whether it's because they'll get hold of you before the tranquilizer knocks them out or because you'll stun yourself too."

Comprehension and trepidation began to dawn on Tim's face. He deflated in his chair, sinking lower and lower as he stared off into nowhere.

"You also can't hit them with more than one tranquilizer dart in a four hour window because you could accidently kill them that way. That also means even though you have a baton, you typically can't do enough damage to them to keept them from escaping because that might potentially kill them." Kon said completely solemn now as he relayed the information. "Because regardless of the reputation Arkham has or what the patients have done, it is still a hospital and they are still patients." 

Tim was staring directly at Kon now. Mouth open, face slack, eyes wide with a kind of numbed shock. Kon held his gaze.

"Yeah," Kon said after a moment. "Yeah, that's how I reacted too." He looked down, picking at his nails for a moment before forcing himself to stop and meet Tim's gaze again. "Phizer, my new 'boss', made sure to drill that into my head during orientation. 'Arkham's guards exist first and foremost to protect the patients. Arkham isn't supposed to be a prison. It's a medical facility. The patients are confined to the premises because their affliction has made them dangerous and they have to stay so that we can keep them and others safe from further harm. We are here to keep the patients and staff from hurting each other, themselves, or being hurt by people outside of Arkham's walls.' Not gonna lie, man." Kon said quirking a bitter grin as his did. "Hearing that kind of fucked me up a bit."

Tim sucked in a huge heaving breath then slowly let it out before he responded.

"I can't say I ever thought about it like that." He admitted in a soft strained voice. "Can't say I ever wanted to either." There was a bitter tinge to his words.

"Yeah, neither did I." Kon answered, shoulders slumping a bit. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask me? I kind of want to head back and sleep a bit."

Tim shook his head slowly.

"No, I think we're good at the moment." He said looking twice as exhausted and drained now as he did when Kon first got there. Kon nodded.

"Good night then. I'll see you later, man." He said, pushing off the wall he'd been leaning against and heading for the door.

"Be safe, Kon." Tim answered softly turning back to his computer.

[the-coffeeaddict-tim-drake]

Just A Kid Next Door -Chapter 9

Bruce is finally back from being stuck in the time stream. Tim managed to save Batman and his loved ones. Now it is time for Tim to go home and rest. But the problem is that, Tim has no home. Or that's what he thinks so.

This will be a multichapter fic on how did Tim reconcile with his family. It will be full of angst, family feels and family shenanigans.

Masterlist

Here in the link to read the story in ao3.

-------------------------------CHAPTER 9---------------------------------

CHAPTER 9

Tim stirred slowly, lids fluttering against the soft morning light seeping through the blinds of Jason’s apartment. It took him a moment to remember where he was. The ceiling was unfamiliar. The soft blanket draped over him wasn’t his. The scent of gun oil and old leather clung to the air like a warning sign.

Jason.

His side throbbed. Pain, sharp and hot, laced through him the second he tried to sit up. He bit down on a groan. The bandages were soaked through—damp, warm, and sticky beneath the fabric. His head swam.

But of course, pain was good. Pain meant he was still alive. Not that it mattered.

He dragged himself upright eventually, swinging his legs off the bed like dead weight. The living room was empty. No Kon, no Cassie, no Bart. Good. He didn't think he had the emotional energy to explain himself—especially when he didn’t even know what explanation they were expecting.

His mouth was dry, so he dragged himself into the kitchen, footsteps slow, uncertain. The sun spilled across the counter, golden and soft. He reached for a mug, filled it with tea someone must've made earlier—lukewarm now—and cradled it in both hands. The mug was chipped at the rim. It suited him.

He took a sip. His hands shook, just a little.

And then he saw it.

Steam.

Faint tendrils curling upward from the cup, whisper-thin but unmistakable.

He blinked. Once. Twice. The realization was sluggish, like trying to remember something you only ever half-knew.

"...Ah," he muttered dryly, deadpan to no one but the silence, “Forgot I don’t have a spleen.”

Of course the wound was infected. Of course stitching it up wasn’t enough. His body couldn’t fight it off on its own. He hadn’t taken antibiotics in... who even knew how long? Days? Maybe a week?

He barely remembered.

A low, bitter chuckle escaped him, brittle and hollow.

“Ten points to Ravenclaw.”

He stared at the mug as if waiting for the sarcasm to taste stronger. “Yeah, that’ll help the infection.”

He took another sip. An edge of humor in his voice. Pain lanced through him—sharp, invasive—but he didn’t drop the mug. He just held it, staring down at the tea like it owed him answers.

“Smart, Drake. Real smart: miss a vital organ. Skip antibiotics. Get sepsis. Great job.”

A low, bitter chuckle escaped him.

And still—he couldn’t afford to stay.

Jason would be back soon. He’d ask questions, and Tim didn’t have answers. Or rather—he had too many.

None worth giving.

He didn’t want sympathy. Didn’t need comfort. What would Jason even do? Put a hand on his shoulder and act like it was okay? Like he suddenly cared?

Jason would look him in the eye and know.

He couldn’t risk that.

He straightened, breath catching in his throat from the movement. The wound ached now—deep and infected, likely spreading—but it was fine. Manageable. Not worse than what he was used to.

There were more important things to do.

Tim’s mind clicked into motion like a machine turning over despite rusted gears:

He had three meetings stacked at Wayne Enterprises today—Lucius would already be wondering where he was. Tam would be pacing near the glass elevators with a data pad in one hand and a glare ready in the other. She always looked at him that way when he ghosted. Which he did, often. She didn’t deserve it.

They’d once had... something. Not dating, not really, They mutually agreed to shove it into a locked file labeled “Temporary Malfunction" and decided that they were better off as friends.... She was the only one who occasionally looked him in the eye and called him out.

She’d know something was off. Another reason to stay quiet and keep moving.

He had reports to sign. Stockholder files to review. A board to reassure that Gotham wouldn’t implode just because Brucie Wayne is back from his so called "vacation" now....not that they knew that he was literally dead a while ago...

Then there was the Demon Head....still somehow weirdly obsessed with him even though he tricked him, sabotaged all of his plans, blew up all the league bases....

He could stop by his apartment on the way to the WE Tower. Grab his antibiotics. Maybe down them with coffee. Or not. They'd probably make him nauseous anyway.

The infection would settle. Eventually.

He didn’t have time to be sick. Time to explain. Time to feel anything.

Because it didn’t matter.

This—this pain, this fever, this rotting wound—none of it mattered.

His job was to keep the wheels turning. He was the stopgap. The stand-in. The Red Robin who stayed behind when everyone else moved forward.

He’d patched up the world when Bruce died. He’d put on the suit and smiled at press conferences and chased down corpses that refused to stay buried. He’d pulled his weight. And everyone else’s. For years.

He made sure all of Bruce's loved ones stayed alive.

That’s what he did. That’s all he did.

It wasn’t about him.

He didn’t need rest. He didn’t need care. He needed to finish the mission. Get the job done. That was his role. That was his place.

“You don’t matter. Just the outcome does.”

He repeated that in his head like a litany, like a mantra worn thin over the years.

His health was... a footnote. A minor inconvenience in the middle of more important things.

People didn’t notice when he fell apart unless he made noise. So he’d stopped making noise.

And maybe—just maybe—if he did this right, if he pushed hard enough, worked long enough, saved enough people, someone would notice one day.

But probably not.

He wasn’t expecting it.

The mug slipped from his fingers before he even realized he was falling.

Porcelain shattered against tile—sharp, echoing, meaningless.

The world pitched sideways. Pain lanced through his gut like glass, hot and splitting, but distant. His body folded in on itself, breath snagging somewhere between his ribs.

And just as the dark started to pull him under—

Something surfaced.

Not a memory. Not exactly.

A sound.

Laughter—soft, bright, not real. A flicker of light behind closed eyelids.

Long wind lifting hair.

Caramel skin.

Eyes like sunlit earth.

A moment from somewhere—far off, never touched, barely held. He’d only seen it once, maybe. A lifetime ago.

Maybe he dreamed it. Maybe he didn’t.

But it always came back in the quiet. Right before he blacked out. Right when he wanted to give up.

And now, in the middle of all this rot and fever, in RedHood’s kitchen with blood in his mouth and bile in his throat— It came again.

That sound.

That light.

Just long enough for him to hold on.

One more second.

...

He hit the tile, tasting blood. Bruises bloomed beneath his skin.

He couldn’t see properly anymore.

He didn’t even try to stand.

Jason’s boots hit the ground harder than usual as he made his way up the apartment steps. His hands were trembling. He hated every second of it.

The world outside was quiet, unaware of the storm that had detonated inside his chest. The conversation at Drake Manor hadn’t lasted long—but it had been enough. Too much. More than he ever wanted to know.

And still not enough to make sense of all of it.

He wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten home. Just muscle memory, taking over when the rest of him had been too stunned to think.

God, Timmy. What the hell did you go through?

He gripped the railing, knuckles white.

The memory of Damian’s voice echoed in his skull, emotionless, clinical as always—yet the things he’d shown Jason…

He didn’t want to believe them. He did. But he didn’t.

It wasn’t even denial. It was just too big. Too deep. Something you couldn’t look directly at because it hurt too much to understand. Like trying to stare at the sun.

He hadn’t spoken a word the entire walk back.

What could he say?

He unlocked the door with a shaky hand, his breath catching in his throat as he stepped into the apartment.

"Tim—"

The word died.

His eyes fell immediately on the blood on the floor. A shattered mug. A dark smear near the kitchen counter.

His heart froze.

“Tim?”

No response.

He bolted forward, his combat boots crunching against ceramic. And there—there he was.

A limp, pale mess of skin and sweat, blood oozing through the bandages at his side. Shallow breaths. His lips tinged with blue. His eyes half-lidded, barely clinging to consciousness.

“Shit—shit, no, no, no—”

Jason dropped to his knees, already pressing two fingers against Tim’s neck. The pulse was weak. Fever-hot skin. His body radiating heat like a furnace.

Why was he like this?

He pressed a finger to the wound on Tim's side. The gauze was red, crusted. It looked infected. Bad. Red and angry, heat radiating off of it.

Jason's mind raced. Med records. No mention of infection this bad. Not in the pioneer files. Something was off.

He tried to recall any note about bleeding issues—none. Not in emergency rations.

Jason swallowed hard. He didn't know.

But he hated that he was powerless.

"Stay with me, you stubborn idiot," he murmured. Tim’s body burned, coated in sweat and shaking.

Jason didn’t waste a second. He scooped Tim up—gently, trying not to jostle the wound—but the younger man whimpered, barely conscious. Jason swallowed the ache in his throat and carried him toward the guest bed.

Tim’s head lolled against his shoulder, and Jason could feel the burning heat radiating through the thin shirt. It was bad. Really bad.

Jason laid him down and reached for the first aid supplies again, but his hands were shaking too hard to open the medical kit.

He stared down at Tim’s unconscious form.

Jason had thought he knew what it meant to be broken.

But whatever Tim had recorded…

Whatever Jason had watched at the Drake Manor…

It wasn’t just pain. It was a slow, quiet erosion of self. A boy tearing pieces of himself away because no one noticed he was bleeding.

Jason dragged a hand down his face. He didn’t cry. He couldn’t afford to cry right now.

But his heart was screaming.

Screaming for the kid lying on his bed, burning up with infection, too tired to even ask for help.

He should’ve been here.

He should’ve known.

He didn't know what had happened. He didn't know how long Tim had been bleeding or infected.

But he wasn't gonna wait.

He whisked med supplies, dumping painkillers, prepping antiseptics. His hands shook.

He bent to Tim’s face, brushing damp hair from his brow.

“Hang on, Robin,” he whispered, “This is just another stupid thing we fix.”

His heart thundered.

Jason should’ve known.

But he didn’t. Because Tim never asked. Because Tim never begged. Because Tim never screamed.

He just... bled in silence.

Like he always did.

Jason took a long, shaky breath, forcing himself to work through it, pulling out the antibiotics from the bottom drawer, mixing meds from his own emergency stash.

He wasn’t going to lose him.

Not after this.

Not after what he knew now.

Not when he had seen just how long Tim had been screaming for help with no voice left to use.

[thevoidstaredback]

Week two started off with the RSVPs coming in like a flood. Every single One Percenter that had been invited had accepted the invitation, stating that they'd be there. The heroes that had been invited had yet to respond, though they won't be marked as 'not coming' until the weeks end.

Week Two

Diana had been staring at the invitation for quite some time. She'd apparently been invited to a private Wayne Gala, a charity to raise funds to donate to the Justice League. It was an amusing premis, seeing as Batman somehow funded most of what they did when the U.S. Government fell short, but then she wondered if this was how he did it.

It made sense. He's one man, so he shouldn't have the money to fund the heroes of the world out of pocket. Then again, she didn't know anything about him. The tour of the Bat Cave - a hilarious name, by the way - only proved that point further.

The charity gala is a private event, tighter security than normal, invitations sent out only four weeks in advance, invitation check at the door, no press. But, why was she invited? By random, apparently.

She doubted the odds. 'Random' isn't a thing in Gotham.

Batman probably had something to do with this.

***

Clark was having a hard time believing what he was seeing. He and Lois, as well as Kon and Jon, had been invited to a Wayne Gala? Not even as press. They were going to be actual guests? It was so weird.

When he showed Lois, she'd spent a solid thirty minutes scrutinizing the thing, looking for any sign it was a fake. When she saw the seal, she'd laughed so hard that she fell over, then declared that it was real and that they were going.

He didn't get the joke. She didn't explain.

***

Getting invitations to galas wasn't a new thing for Oliver. He went to at least one in every major city every year. But, getting an invitation to a Wayne Gala that he'd never heard about before? That was a whole new surprise.

Dinah was also surprised by the invitation, but happy to attend. The information on the back said it was a semi-formal dress, and that the theme was Hero.

Ironic.

A charity gala for the Justice League hosted by Gotham's White Prince. Did Batman know anything about this? Probably. He seems to know everything. Honestly, Oliver wouldn't be surprised if the man knew who Green Arrow was behind the mask.

Actually, is Batman even human? He claims he is, and so does Nightwing and Robin, but then they turn around and do things that are decidedly not human-like.

But, who is he to judge?

Dinah was already picking out their outfits. She was going to theme herself after Green Arrow, so Oliver thought it fair to theme his own outfit after Black Canary.

Roy would be laughing his ass off at them. Maybe they could convince him to come with them? The invitation said to invite family... He should have him bring Lian, too. Brucie won't mind. He's a family man, after all.

Actually, that's probably exactly why the invite addresses the Queen Family, instead of just Oliver Queen and his plus one.

Also, why does Bruce want him to give a speech? Yeah, he'll do it, and yeah, he's a better public speaker than Bruce, but why? Was it a spur of the moment thing? Probably.

***

Hal stared at the paper suspiciously. Not once had he been to a fancy gala like a Wayne Gala. In fact, the fanciest party he'd been to were the parties thrown for the military vets.

Okay, so, bad example. Those parties are actually pretty fancy and fairly private, but still! A One Percent Party? Why would Hal get invited to one of those? He's perfectly middle-class, thank you very much.

He toyed with the thought of not going, the idea of Batman catching him in Gotham making him even more reluctant to go, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.

What was it like at one of these things? Would Batman really bust in and ruin the thing if he caught wind of Hal being there? What was Gotham's One Percent like? What was the Wayne Family like?

All very good questions that he wanted answers to.

He filled out the RSVP. He doesn't have anyone to bring with him, but maybe he could ask another hero? Maybe the other Green Lanterns will wanna be there. He's sure the Waynes won't mind. What'll they do, throw him out?

Well....they might, but they probably won't. That'll look bad.

He's got some calls to make before sending this back.

***

Wally had been the one to find the invitation. He'd been over to visit and stopped to bring the mail in for Iris. He knew that crest like the back of his hand because Dick's the one who introduced it to him.

That's right, he knows who Nightwing is. And he is very upset that he was left out of what's obviously a prank on the Justice League! He was gonna have to give his bestie a call. Tsk.

"We're going to this!" he declared loudly the second the door closed behind him.

"What is it?" Bart asked, meeting him in the entryway.

Wally was quick to hide the seal in his pocket. A room full of geniuses would figure it out in a second and he wanted to see this through completely. "Wayne charity gala in Gotham."

"Oh?" Iris asked from her place on the couch, putting her book down. Wally handed her the mail. "You just want to see Nightwing."

His grin was goofy. "Yeah, but don't go telling people that."

Barry plucked the invitation from his hands. "'Charity for Justice'," he read, "'for Justice League and associates'." He flipped it over. "It's addressed to the whole family, though we'll need to RSVP."

Bart set off in a fast repeat of "Please, please, please!" on 3x speed while Barry and Iris shared a silent conversation. Wally's grin grew. He knew they'd say yes.

***

Arthur didn't know how to react. Well, he did, but it was weird. He's a lighthouse keeper. Why's he getting invitations to some fancy party? He'd understand if he got the invite as Aquaman, but as Arthur? It's so weird.

He was going to accept. Mera was gonna make him accept. Probably on the grounds of 'just because'. But she's scary, so he's not gonna say no. At least they can bring Andy? Probably a bad decision. Like, a really bad decision.

Who'd watch over Atlantis while they were gone, though? Someone's gonna have to stay behind!

Mera won't stand for that.

Kaldur'ahm. They'll bring Kaldur with them. He'll be responsible enough to keep Andy in check when she inevitably slips away.

This is a bad idea.

He's going to regret this.

He sends off the RSVP anyway.

Part 11 Part 13

[kryptclonian]

"Are you sure planning isn't one of yours?" Kon teased, knowing how invested Timothy could get in strategy and how his creativity flourished upon making them. "I don't think you'd enjoy being humiliated, babe. You have enough self-esteem issues already, to be able to find it sexy you have to be able to separate it from reality. Like, how you painted me a few minutes ago. That was hot to me, despite you finding it disrepectful - maybe, even in spite of that? The fact that you found it degrading, made me feel degraded, and I liked it even more because of that. But afterwards, it took me a hot minute to remember that I'm more than just your slut, I'm also your boyfriend. I could be wrong, but I don't really think that's your vibe. What I like about humiliation is I'd normally fight anyone who tried to do that. Hell I'm known for smack-talk myself. I like it when you turn it on me. Keeps me on my toes. It's just another act of submission really."

"If you really want, we can give each other lists of words we consent to being used. That'll give you a feel for how hard to hit and it'll give me an idea of what to avoid." Kon pressed gentle kisses to his neck again, deliberately not marking - instead pressing his lips to soothe instead of harm, settling in between his boyfriends legs with ease. "But we're still going to watch those videos. Because they're hot." He smiled against the crook of his neck.

He listened to Timothy's questions, humming as he tried to think of their answers. "Learning to play the guitar would be pretty cool." He was fairly confident Tim already knew he wanted to learn more about him. That was the point of the questions. "Guess I just need to find a musician and tap into their brainwaves." "Girl, what are you talking about I'm perfect." He mock-huffed before descending into giggles. "Work on my temper. I know I snap easily." "I'd like to introduce you to Ma. There's no time for that tonight now though, it's late and you know farm life, gotta get up way early. I'll drop by tomorrow to pick up my suit and tell her all about you." "Okay, we better get moving before I decide to sleep right where I am." Kon mumbled, resisting the urge to snuggle closer. He got up reluctantly and headed to the bathroom to take a quick piss before washing his hands, and heading back out to put on the white shorts only to find them missing. He laughed when he saw a glimpse of white poking out of their bag. He grabbed some fresh boxers, a pair of ripped jeans and an 'S' crested black shirt before grabbing his jacket and tying on his combat boots. Shades came last; that darker tint of the world a familiarity he'd missed during the weekend. He grabbed the packet of cigarettes on the kitchen counterand stuffed them into the bag as well, zipping it up once they were ready. He pulled it over his shoulders and held his arms open for Tim to jump into. When his boyfriend did, Kon floated out to the balcony, closing it behind them with his telekinesis and locking it with the same ability.

He soared into the warm Hawaiian air for the last time, the islands fading behind them as he flew at a fast but steady speed, keeping the altitude low enough to be safe for Tim. Surprisingly, his boyfriend didn't fall asleep this time - instead talking to him on the way back to Bludhaven. Maybe he was afraid that Kon would struggle to stay awake if he didn't? He had yawned after standing up from the bed - using his abilities plenty throughout the day, body still recovering from the intrusion earlier. Tim had asked Kon what he wanted in an apartment, to which Kon had playfully retorted "You", before taking the question more seriously. He'd eventually settled on asking for one on the top floor of wherever they'd end up staying, explaining that people might see him or Krypto otherwise (who was decidedly less subtle) and it wouldn't be good for Tim's identity. When asked if he wanted his own room or them to share one, Kon answered share, explaining that if he didn't want to share a bed with him for any reason, he'd probably need some space from the apartment as well. He pressed a kiss to his forehead, trying to reassure him that he'd be back when he was ready. Finally, he teased that it needed to be big enough for a house party. As he landed by the bedroom window, Kon opened it telekinetically and waited for Tim to step inside before following. He set the bag down, then flopped onto the bed, seemingly uncaring that the sheets weren't fresh, not even bothering to take off his shoes or shades.

Timothy was fully aware of what certain colors did to Kryptonians, but if Kon-El was thinking about this, that means he knew the risks and better understood their time limit, how much to use, where to place it, and what the limits were. If not.. “That will have to be a fantasy we plan, not one we can fall into like others. I have never humiliated someone sexually, so that is also something we should talk about a bit more often in passing to get me used to it so I can give you that sexual gratification without going too hard where I hurt your feelings. I have also never been humiliated sexually, so this is a completely new territory for me. I am open to exploring it as with most things, but so you know as we venture in, there are going to be a lot of questions first.” Hands continued to wander over his back, enjoying touching the man’s heated flesh everywhere. It was a strange feeling to know someone’s body and yet keep finding new things that one liked about it. “I know it is not romantic or thrilling to talk details, but it is safe. And we will know each other’s limits without asking in a few years.” He hoped.

Legs spread a bit wider so Kon could settle between his knees, every bit of their mid fronts against one another. “We need to watch those videos you told me about soon so I can see it from different perspectives. The BDSM ones. Or you can be verbal and tell me.” A hand reached for Kon-El’s chin to tilt it up so they could see each other’s eyes. “I meant it when I said that I want to give you everything I can in that sense. I need you to stay open about how it makes you feel and why you want it when you can even if it is uncomfortable and exposes some things. The more I understand, the better I can give you what you need.” His neck helped that head lean forward, lips pressing to Kon’s forehead to show care and respect. “I would never harm you for my enjoyment, to make that clear. Now harm you for YOUR enjoyment, yes.” 

He missed Kon-El being in his head already, but it gave him a chance to think of his questions and being more verbal with this topic. It was an important one that would keep circling because when they had sex, Kon admitted to it being harder and faster, making him hurt. They had a lot more to talk about, but Timothy felt more informed about it. 

“Okay, my three questions, then we can get dressed and head home.” he said it so casually, without hesitation that they both considered it home. “What is one thing you would like to learn about? What bad habit of yours would you like to break and end? Tell me a relationship goal you have that is short-term for us.”

[river-bottom-nightmare]

May we have more sad Kon drables?

you may absolutely have more sad kon drabbles babe. enjoy your angst. 

kon’s reliant on his ttk. almost an unhealthy amount. unhealthy by tim’s standards, because he’s always telling kon he needs to learn how to fight by himself without his powers as a crutch, just in case the worst happens. kon always shrugs and laughs, because how on earth is someone going to take his powers away?? that won’t ever happen, and kon likes using his powers. he’s fine. it isn’t until later that he realizes tim wasn’t talking about him losing his powers. tim was talking about kon’s powers not being enough. because it’s happened. multiple times. no matter how fast he pushed, he wasn’t fast enough to catch a falling tim. no matter much he gritted his teeth and tried to form a shield, it wasn’t enough to stop cassie from getting hit. he wasn’t always fast enough to stop a speedster villain after tim, he wasn’t powerful enough to keep all the bullets from hitting cissie. his powers weren’t enough sometimes.  it’s times like these when he realizes tim was right. he should have learned how to fight without his powers. or he should have trained his powers to get better instead of just trusting they’ll be enough. but even though he tries, now, he’s not learning fast enough to make much of a difference

kon’s never quite sure why his teammates act all fidgety when he talks about tana. it’s not like he’s explicit or anything. just small throwaway comments. an ice cream flavour she used to like, a pair of earrings that looked like the ones she used to wear. one day, while he’s telling tim about this date he and tana went on in an attempt to support tim going out with stephanie (yet again) while tamping down his own jealousy, cassie blows. she tells him to shut up, shut up about tana kon come on. none of the rest of us like hearing about her so please just do us all a favour and be quiet. it was easy to snap right back, to let the red rage fill his vision as he argued with cassie, but something about the grief in her voice made her pause. tim butts in awkwardly, telling kon that he knows kon loved her, he knows what she meant to kon, but the younger boy trailed off when kon demanded he explain what the hell he was talking about. it was bart that stepped up and told him, dude, you were fresh out of the lab, but physically only 16. she was 23. that’s not,,,,that’s not okay. no matter what way you put it kon gets it then. he remembers all the cases he’s worked with tim, saving kids from adults much older, holding their shaking bodies as tim beat the criminals up with his staff. but,,,,but it wasn’t the same. he was the one who started it. he was absolutely okay with the entire relationship. he had fun. he loved her. that,,,made it okay. right?

he had to find out from cassie. the two of them were on another one of their dates, desperately trying to make it feel like before. before kon had died, before cassie had splintered in grief, before kon came back but the two of them just didn’t click anymore.  joining a cult seemed like a bit of an extreme overreaction, but kon got it. he understood what happened when people were in grief. he doesn’t blame her, and told her so with an arm around her shoulder and her warm body tucked into his side. cassie just shook her head, her voice still achingly sad despite kon’s immediate forgiveness. it wasn’t her that he had to worry about, cassie said. it was tim. kon furrows his brow. tim? he’d suffered, obviously, and kon had seen pain in every line of his body when he’d visited tim for the first time after coming back. that hug had been full of more desperation than he’d ever seen on the younger boy. but he’d been told that all that grief, all that anger, was because of bruce’s death, and tim’s insane-but-not-really-insane quest to bring him back to life. cassie gives a humorless snort. then she tells him about the lab underneath the tower, the superboy shirt in the glass case. kon grows more and more horrified with each word cassie says, trying to imagine the story she’s laying out. tim, out of his mind with anguish. tim, trying to fucking clone him, over and over and over, knowing that it wouldn’t be the same but not even pretending to care, because any small piece of kon would be enough. the sleepless nights, the pills, the changed costume dedicated to him, the frantic energy dedicated to bringing kon back. he stammered out excuses, and cassie let him go without question. he didn’t even care that he left her hanging. he just knew that he had to go see tim, he had to find out if what cassie said was true. his death may have splintered cassie, but it shattered tim, and kon couldn’t help but feel guilt over it.

sometimes kon wondered if martha and jonathan kent approved of the way clark treated kon, or if she even knew. the two of them had taken kon into their home without a second thought, arms out and hearts open with acceptance. it was something he hadn’t felt until young justice had spent some time together, fought for their lives together. and for the kents, it was just immediate. kon wasn’t sure what it was about clark that made him push kon away. or, not really “push away.” more like straight up ignore at his own convenience. it was as if clark would rather forget about him; the only interaction the two of them had was when forced by lois or the kents, or when there was a global disaster and clark needed kon’s help. in his bitterest moments, kon wanted to scream at tim to cut damian some slack. damian had preyed on tim’s worst insecurities, he’d insulted him at every turn, he’d cut tim’s line and did nothing as tim fell. kon would always take tim’s side on this particular brotherly feud. but still, he sympathized with the kid. he’d been created without clark’s knowledge, like damian and bruce, before abruptly meeting them once older and being thrust upon them as an unwanted responsibility. damian was even worse than him, having years of brainwashing, abuse, and assassin-training. but bruce and the rest of the family still took him in, still gave him a chance, still tried so hard to love him until they didn’t have to try anymore to do so. when, exactly, had clark reached out to him to do any of that? other than a stiff, congratulatory smile after a battle or a mandatory dinner forced upon him by the rest of the family? he was getting better, kon could admit. it wasn’t enough, though. 

[listentothelittlebird]

Another scrapped scene from Code Bat - Superman meets Bizarro, and some alternate scenes from the fic How Are You? 

Word count: 1371 words

Enjoy!

Clark was wary of this meeting.

The week had been crazy enough - starting with Batman contacting him, to meet him at an abandoned warehouse.

He had not expected his friend to show him blue kryptonite, as well as a burly figure wearing his colours.

A red-haired Amazonian was standing guard above his obviously weakened form.

“I’m Superman,” Clark tried for a calming smile, “This is Batman. We’re here to help-“

“Stay where you are,” the woman raised her battleaxe threateningly, “I know of your names, but I do not trust in your reputations.”

“Artemis of Bana-Mighdall,” Batman intoned. Of course he went for intimidation. Artemis’ eyes narrowed. “I know who goes in and out of Gotham. I followed an unidentified distress signal to this location. When I arrived, I did not see your third member,” Batman explained.

“Your teammate is injured. Superman has the resources and the means to help him. The question is, will you let us?”

A beat of silence, glare met by glare, before Artemis lowered her weapon. “I will stay by him,” Artemis declared, “Wherever you take him.”

At the Fortress of Solitude, Superman learnt his name: Bizarro.

“He was used as a weapon,” Artemis spat in disgust, “He was simply a tool to them. Red Hood and I are the closest thing to a family that he has.”

“Considering that he lacked a mentor, he has an impressive grasp on his powers,” Batman stated. He was rewatching footage of Bizarro fighting Artemis and Red Hood in Gotham on the fortress’ computer monitor.

“He does,” Artemis nodded, her gaze solemn, “Unfortunately, even as his teammates, we have not helped him much in learning more about his powers. He has an incredibly distinct powerset. Even if I share some in common with him, I suspect that the way they are used or called upon varies greatly.”

Clark frowned at Bizarro’s resting form, deep in thought.

-

One thing led to another, and now Clark was leading Bizarro around his home, his bulky frame easily fitting through the farmhouse doorways designed for his own Kryptonian build.

Kon and Jon were out visiting his parents with Lois. Bizarro would have time to get used to his new home, before it was filled with people once more.

Artemis followed them around with a protective hand on Bizarro’s shoulder, scanning his home with a hawk’s eye. It was a big risk, to reveal his identity to both of them - but he found it was a risk he was willing to take.

In the end, Bizarro settled himself in the barn, intrigued by the hay and seemingly comforted by the bigger space. Artemis spent the time fiddling with her communicator. It seemed like she was trying to contact Red Hood, without much luck. It had been a week since the rescue - a week of radio silence from their third member.

The next day, Clark checked in on the two Outlaws to find Artemis talking loudly over the communicator.

“You should have at least told us you were still alive!” Artemis scolded, sharp and to the point, “Where are you now?”

“In the base,” came Red Hood’s reply. His voice was modified even through the call, “And you?”

Artemis huffed. “Superman… offered his hospitality to Bizarro,” she admitted quietly, “He has welcomed him into his home, as part of his family.”

Red Hood paused, then hummed in acknowledgement. “You should come get his stuff from the base, then,” Red Hood suggested, “At least, whatever he wants to have with him over there.”

“Of course,” Artemis stated curtly. There was another pause from Red Hood, then a laugh. The sound was what gave away the man’s youth.

“Arty,” Red Hood started, “You know Biz is still our teammate, right? I bet he’ll get cabin fever in no time. We’ll still have missions and shit together, this isn’t goodbye. He just deserves some comfort, a home he can go back to after adventures.”

Artemis considered Red Hood’s words, before letting out a small “hmph” in acknowledgement. “Do you wish to speak with Superman?” Artemis questioned, eyeing where Clark had came to a stop, at the wide threshold of the barn doors.

“I… yeah, I’d like to talk to the guy,” Red Hood agreed, “But I wanna do that face to face. Bring him here to the base with you, would you?”

“We’ll be right there,” Artemis promised. 

The Outlaws base turned out to be just on the outskirts of Metropolis, an underground bunker where sounds where muted by the rush of traffic above.

The steel doors to the bunker slid open, with Red Hood greeting them with a snarky grin. He was well-built, and there was a lock of white hair above his forehead, but even his tall and bulky frame were not enough to hide how young he was. He was no more than a few years older than Kon.

Bizarro had been rushing in for a hug, but he stopped in front of Red Hood abruptly. “Red Him hurt,” he pointed out with a sad pout.

One of Red Hood’s hands was in a wrist brace, and he was leaning his weight on one leg, the other in a protective boot that went all the way up to his knee. There were probably more injuries hidden under his leather jacket, if the way he was moving slowly was anything to go by.

“I’ll heal, Biz, don’t worry about it,” he stated dismissively. His voice was naturally low, but for now lacked the growl that came with hostility. He turned to regard Clark himself, who had come in casual clothing, sans his glasses. 

Red Hood held out his good hand, and Clark was unsurprised at his firm grip and rough, calloused hand. “You can call me Jay,” Red Hood stated, smirking at Clark’s shocked expression, “Hey, you’re opening up your home for Biz. That’s the least I can give you.”

Clark found himself sitting with Jay at a table, with Bizarro and Artemis sorting through things Bizarro wanted to bring to his new home. Jay was sipping tea from a teacup dwarfed by his hand. It was a domestic sight which he had not expected from a man known as an anti-hero weapons expert, and who was notoriously dangerous to cross paths with.

“You’re probably curious as to why you didn’t find me when you found my teammates,” Jay started without preamble, “I activated the distress signal, but by the time I was done with taking care of the thugs, I was pretty injured. I had the bright idea of leaving to take care of my own wounds.”

Jay huffed, “It wasn’t a really bright idea,” he gestured to his visible injuries, “I only stuck around long enough to make sure nobody with ill intentions found them, then I booked it for home.”

“Home,” Clark echoed, frown no doubt obvious on his face. Jay smiled, “Aye. Just because I used to run solo doesn’t mean I’ve got no fam. They’re just not about this life, you know? Needless to say, it was kinda hard to get away from them until I was deemed healthy enough to get back out and about.”

Jay glanced back at Bizarro, at Artemis fussing over him. “Again, thank you,” Jay stated, making pointed eye contact as he turned back to face Clark, “Opening up your home for Biz… he deserves somewhere to call home. Somewhere besides here, at least.”

“I try to help as much as I can,” Clark shrugged. Jay hummed at that, with a knowing smile, although Clark had no idea exactly what he knew.

Jay’s smile dropped into a serious frown as his teammates left the room. “It goes without saying that you’re gonna have to deal with me and Arty, if Biz ever gets hurt by you or your kids,” Jay warned coldly. He seemed to close his eyes, then, shaking his head, “But from what I’ve heard about you, I’m fairly sure that that’s not gonna happen.”

“It won’t,” Clark assured, wholly confident of this.

Jay smiled, and slowly rose to his feet. “C’mon, maybe you can help decide what Biz should bring and what he should leave here. If you can convince him, of course.”

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for Plot Bunny; den mom Black Zero.

“You’re Kon-El’s age?” Wonder Woman says, looking thoughtful. 

“I said that, yes,” Black Zero replies in annoyance. He usually has a higher estimation of Wonder Woman’s intelligence than to need the obvious restated, but it could be worse; could be Superman talking again. 

“Are you intending to repeat your crimes in this reality?” Wonder Woman says. 

“You cannot possibly be stupid enough to think I’d answer that truthfully either way,” Black Zero says, eyeing her dubiously. The corner of her mouth quirks up, just a little. 

“Perhaps,” she says. “But I imagine you’re aware that I do have a method to assure that you would.” 

Black Zero rolls his eyes, then holds out his arm in further annoyance. It’s not as if he needs to lie, much less cares enough to. If he wanted to kill them, he’d be killing them. 

“Thank you,” Wonder Woman says, because of course she’d waste time on that, and then loops her lasso around his wrist. “Your name, please?” 

“Black Zero,” Black Zero says. Wonder Woman hums consideringly. 

“What are your intentions towards this reality, Black Zero?” she says. 

“To explain to your Superboy why he’s an idiot and murder anyone between him and his brother,” Black Zero replies dryly. “Also, I might punch your Superman. He’s pissing me off and I’ve never actually gotten the chance to.” 

“Technically not true,” Superboy says. “One of the Superboys we met was actually a younger alternate of Superman, and you definitely punched him. Like, really hard. And his dog.” 

“Did I?” Black Zero feels pleased. “Good.” 

“You’re such a prick, man,” Superboy says, scowling at him. “The dog!” 

“I hate dogs,” Black Zero replies with a dismissive shrug. 

“So do I, but that is not the point!” Superboy says in exasperation, throwing his hands up. “And we’re not murdering anybody! No murder!” 

“You’re not, maybe,” Black Zero snorts. Wonder Woman watches his face, her own expression still thoughtful. 

“You want to abduct Match from the Agenda,” she says, which is again something he feels he’s made very obvious, but whatever. 

“It’s adorable that you’d describe freeing a legally-enslaved teenager as ‘abduction’,” he says. 

“Arguably, I couldn’t even describe him as a teenager, given he’s . . . how much younger than you, Kon-El?” Wonder Woman asks, glancing towards Superboy.

“Oh, uh–like a year, about?” he says. “I think about a year, anyway, I’m a little fuzzy on some of the dates, after the Wild Lands and–I think about a year, yeah.” 

“So you people left a newborn clone with an organization run by slavers,” Black Zero says. “For a year. That’s about as impressive as I’d expect from a Justice League, yes.” 

“Match has made his feelings on remaining with the Agenda clear more than once,” Superman says, narrowing his eyes at him. Black Zero gives him a dubious look. “We tried to help him. He’s made his choice."

“Yes, physiological teenagers with five minutes’ worth of life experience are notoriously adept at making informed choices with long-term consequences that involve them rejecting everything about and everyone in the only life they’ve ever known,” Black Zero drawls, rolling his eyes. “Silly me. How could I forget.” 

“Your priorities are . . . interesting,” Wonder Woman muses, still watching him thoughtfully. He doesn’t know what she thinks she’s looking for. 

“They're correct, is what they are,” he says. “No one else gives a fuck about our kind.” 

“Clones, you mean?” Wonder Woman says. 

“You keep asking me incredibly obvious questions,” Black Zero says. Who else would he mean? 

It's been made very clear to him that no one else is going to look out for any of them except each other.

[ramiaell]

Lunathas Contracts

Breaking and entering, not something new for him but it was the first time he had done so with a client he was bodyguarding. The Howling Owl’s employee apartments were not hard to break into, especially when this one left the balcony door unlocked. With the shadows wrapped tightly around him he snuck in and did a full sweep to make sure the apartment was secure before letting Beaureve sneak inside too. Of course due to the sweep and the small size of the apartment it was easy to tell that noone was home.

It had been a few years since he and Konietzko had last spoken, this was not how he’d have guessed they’d reunite, if at all. It was also not in a place like this that he’d expect to find him. Keeping to the shadows he witnessed as his new client chose not to poke and prod around the apartment much at all but took right to the sofa and curled up. He had not been guarding him for long yet, but he did wonder if this sort of nuance was typical of him. They both waited in silence for the Kaldorei to arrive home and since he was hidden in the shadows himself, there was no conversation between him and his client. He watched as the time passed and Beaureve fell fast asleep on that sofa as if stress and current events in his life had caught up with him.    It was well into the night when the door opened and Kon arrived home, stepping down the hallway and passing by the entryway right into the kitchen without even looking into the living room as why would he? He turned on a light in the kitchen and started a kettle making some tea as he began washing his hands. The shadow in the room witnessed his first look at the Kaldorei after this time without his knowing. He looked tired and a bit fatigued but not due to poor health. If anything his health seemed to have increased greatly since they last met. He must have just returned from some sort of physical activity as he was still a bit dark in the cheeks, chest and ears from a good workout and was tending to blisters on his hand. Interesting.

Beaureve was starting to wake from the sounds in the kitchen as Konietzko put the tea on the stove and started to walk into the living room, stopping dead in his tracks with a double take to the sofa when he saw the moving body of the Shal’dorei waking up from his nap. Stone steadied himself, tucked in the shadows just behind him ready to stop him at a moment’s indication he might try to harm his client. Beyond an understandable startle he didn’t, he just jerked and stared. “Took you long enough.” Beaureve said stifling a small yawn as he rubbed at his eyes. “I mean… welcome home.” 

“Well, I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience!” Kon replied with a mix of humor and shock both  as he looked Beaureve over closely before opting to go to the chair next to the sofa. “Had I known I was playing host I would not have stayed so late practicing my routine. Now tell me…  to what do I owe the honor of this…” He motioned to the balcony. “... break-in?”

With a smirk breaking over his lips, Beaureve just smiled. “You are forgiven. This time.” He said perfectly aware he was in the wrong but calmly combed out his hair as he sat there pleasantly. “Well it’s my lucky day I suppose, you’ve taught me a valuable lesson.” Kon said walking then over to the balcony door and pulling aside the curtains slowly looking outside. He’d close the door then slowly, pursing his lips as if he was looking for something. “I need to invest in better locks, or lock the door at all it would seem.” He said somewhat bemused yet he turned around and looked about the room with a slow gaze of his amber eyes. “Practice? Routine? Mm, so you’re turning your aspirations into reality. That’s rather wonderful to hear.” Beaureve said as he watched. “And in my defense, I did try to knock on the door first. However, after coming all this way with noone to answer? It was in my best interest to see if there was a way to wait inside.” The priest said only telling part of the story but it was enough. “And with how many letters I had to write up in order to actually receive word and meeting arrangements… I preferred a more direct approach.” He smirked. “You don’t mind. We can speak a bit now.” the priest said not leaving this open ended. 

Kon stepped back over to the couch then and would find the chair to sit in as he tried to piece this all together. “Perhaps you came here seeking Talthorn? He is here often lately I’ll admit but not when I’m gone.” He said eyeing the priest a little suspiciously but he was far calmer about it than Talthorn had been. “Did you seek my contact I gave you?” He asked resisting the urge to look around the room once more. “No. I am here to see you.” The priest says bluntly. “Yes. I did.” He replied to the latter question before moving right along. “Now we can officially make arrangements. As promised. When are you available?” 

Kon stared at Beaureve and his audacity with a small smirk. “I suppose I can’t be upset considering how Talthorn did choose to ignore your letters till I found them. As much as I love him dearly he has his reasons for acting as he did. But I am not him.” He pointed out as he thought a moment before responding. “You did?” He redirected the conversation back to the point on the contact. “And did he accept?” Beaureve seemed pleasantly welcome to this information and eager to ask more. “Are these reasons that you are willing to share at all?” he asked before Kon redirected the conversation. “He did. Very interesting man. This contact of yours. We’ve made a good business arrangement. Thank you again for your recommendation. I aspire to have a meeting with my issue whenever he gets my word. In the next few days most likely.” Kon knew who he was talking about with this recent issue. Well he more knew -of- them from what Beaureve and Talthorn both had told him of that incident that left Beaureve wounded and carried to the healer’s ward after Talthorn had saved him. Even the shadow in the room knew the details enough to understand this comment and where it was going. “Talthorn’s secrets are his own to share. I will only say for whatever it’s worth that his… mistrust is a valid one.” Kon looked right to Beaureve then. “Even if you were not the cause for them, just a trigger. But that is all the more I will say. If you want trust or his truths? That’s going to take time Beaureve. Time, and a significant lack of your magic. But in that too I will say no more. I’ve only said this much in the interest of trying to make this easier. For both of you.” Kon explained rubbing at his palms and the ache within them as he sighed and looked to the side. “So, the contract was made. That is good, though forgive me if I wish to make certain.” Kon said oddly as he raised his head then and would stare Beaureve right in the eyes as he spoke out louder. “Show yourself, old friend.”

Beaureve listened closely and drew in a slow breath. He was taking much from these statements but why? Why was there mistrust?! The priest was eager to figure that out. When he realized what Kon had said just then, however, he added in his own command in case his bodyguard was truly as strict as not to do so unless ordered. “Hm? Oh. Of course. Yes, please reveal yourself, Stone.”

No sooner than Beau had given the command, the shadows against the far wall on the other side of the dining room table would start to shift and lift as soon a voice was heard before the body was seen. Where Kon’s voice was deep and full of bass, his was low but more crisp and sharp. “While some things never change, some things… do. It has been a time, Kon.” The bodyguard stood leaning against the wall in full gear head to toe. Blades on his side and no doubt many more hidden throughout his attire. His face was masked, as always and those eyes as cold as winter skies peered right back at Kon’s as they made eye contact across the room.

For one who’s home was being invaded, Kon certainly didn’t seem too worked up over it. As his amber eyes met Stone’s, they softened just a bit. A hint of a sad  yet genuine smile almost shadowed along his face. How bittersweet this was. “Some things do indeed, though you are not one of those things I would ever ask to change. Please, come. Sit with us. You know he is in no danger here.” Kon said motioning to the couch next to Beaureve. Beaureve motioned to the couch as well. “Yes, join us.” He confirmed and watched the exchange between them, both seeming interested in this reunion between them. At first, Stone did not move. But eventually he pushed off form the wall to step over and stand at Beaureve’s side.

“Quite the place here, I see you’ve returned to the club scene afterall?” Stone quipped as he looked firmly down at Kon having already done his research on this place before they arrived.

"I have, though not intentionally at first. But after my seclusion from the world and the dream therapy it seems... I was ready to come back. Though certainly not with such old habits as I indulged in before. Of that... I endeavor to stray from as much as possible." His eyes then flicked to Beaureve well aware he was listening and oddly enough, he didn't seem to mind. ``I think you'll come to agree in no time at all that Sivah would have liked this one. Perhaps even -you- will." He playfully smirked towards Stone.

Beaureve enjoyed collecting the information he could, seeing how they both reacted with one another. He wears his smile and finds the details intriguing but blinks at the mention here. "Sivah? Who is that? And why would they like me? " he tips his head and looks back to Stone. Stone met his gaze. “Sivandris Lumenstone, owner of the Starcaller Lure and heir to the Lumenstone Estate.” He told him as if just reciting information. “He had a way about collecting rare gems, like yourself. And each of them came with their own troubles that I always had the privilege of helping sort.” And that was all the more Stone seemed willing to share. As Stone had decided that was all the more that needed said, Kon and Beaureve spent the rest of the night discussing how their arrangement would work. As Talthorn was to give Beaureve a date of his choosing once a month, Kon would under the same rules to help make up for Talthorn’s lack of his part of the deal in the beginning of their original arrangement. By doing so Talthorn would have the ease that Beaureve would no longer be trying to sell his rare drug to anyone of the Tarts nor of the Owl so long as it was a function put on by either group or when in Talthorn’s presence. It was an exchange no one would ever know even had taken place, all for the comfort that Talthorn could protect his friends and fellow entertainers from this mind-altering drug that he had no power to stop him from creating. However, Kon saw it fit by the end of this meeting here in his home to call Beaureve out. To him, this seemed like an overly complicated agreement in contract that they would be meeting as friends to do things that friends would willingly do without a contract because they were… friends? But to Beaureve that was not the case at all. He could not understand the concept of friends so to him this was a contract and he expected it to be upheld. Despite having his point made, Kon agreed and pushed the subject no longer. The entire exchange was witnessed by Stone, but he said nothing during it. Just observed in complete silence as he did for most his guard detail he’d signed on for with Beaureve. It was not his job to state his thoughts nor opinions on any matters Beaureve had to deal with. It was only his job to ensure his safety. Thankfully, one could do that with very little said as he was not one for idle conversation. Ever. But he did not think he’d be meeting Kon again, let alone under such circumstances. It was interesting how life had a way of bringing things left unresolved back around. Even among former friends. Stone came to realize much had changed for the Kaldorei, not all but there was something very significant that he noticed right away in Kon that had not been there before. He’d come a long way on the road to recovery, and in doing so had begun truly turning his life around for the better. While Stone did not intend to be his ‘friend’ at that time and just to let everything go and move on, he was curious enough to see just where this would all lead for his current client’s future. Beaureve had alot to experience now in his ‘free’  life. Stone wasn’t so certain that experiencing it through Kon and the others he was associated with was the best way, but he wasn't paid to give his thoughts nor opinions on those matters either. They were invalid. At that time, he had only one job to do. And when the threat returned, he would do it. After that, the priest was on his own.

“Next week. At the same point we met before in Suramar. Wear something similar to that. You seem very comfortable. I’ll take care of the rest.” Beuareve said to the expectant Kaldorei as he rose to leave. Kon took a slow breath in and let it back out as he nodded his head once. “A word to the wise Beaureve, what Talthorn and I want is not always what others think. But I can easily see the same could be said for you.” The Kaldorei’s eyes shifted back to Stonel then. “You are going to have your hands full with this one.” Stone drew his gaze to Kon, “You’ve never been one to make my job easy. But we both know, that is where I thrive.” “Oh I do.” Kon said with a laugh and a smirk to follow as he watched them both turn to leave. “It will be quite the… learning experience.” He teased at Beaureve before flashing Stone a knowing look. As usual, he got no response from Stone, just that stone-faced stare before he turned away and escorted Beaureve out. “Next week then.” Kon said as he watched them go and looked to the couch in thought. Maybe he would omit that part to Talthorn; he doubted his love would ever be able to let go the thought of Beaureve breaking into his apartment. What a little shit.

((A former rp from last year recapped in a shorter format though it still includes both our writing. A fun look at the beginnings of Talthorn, Kon, Beaureve and Rami’s friendship that few know about. While the rp has gone places none of us could imagine at that time, it has been a real trip to reflect back to this rp and the reunion of Kon and Stone as witnessed by Beau. Mentions too @beaureve-lunathas​ , @talthorn-sylvoran​ , @konietzko-lumenstone​ ))

@daily-writing-challenge

[queermediastudies]

“A Queer Who Cares” : The Intersection of Class and Queerness in Tokyo Godfathers

Tokyo Godfathers is a Japanese animated film, made in 2003, that follows the adventures of three homeless friends on Christmas Eve in Tokyo, Japan. Throughout the movie, we follow Hana, a transwoman and former drag queen, Gin, a middle-aged man with a gambling addiction, and Miyuki, a teenage runaway, as they find a baby in a trash can and spend Christmas Day trying to reunite the child with her mother. A comedic adventure quickly ensues, as the chaotic but loving trio, do their best to take care of their new baby, solve the mystery of her appearance, and all the while combat the dangers and prejudices that come with being homeless. Though predominantly a comedy, the film also strays away from its humorous tone and delves deep into the characters’ complex backstories, emotionally exploring the myriad of reasons why Hana, Gin, and Miyuki are homeless and why getting the baby back to her mother is so important for each of them. Directed by the famous Satoshi Kon and loosely based on the 1913 novel “The Three Godfathers”, the film explores themes of parenthood, found families, classism, transphobia, and addiction, and illuminates the complex ways in which these forces interact and impact daily life. In essence, Tokyo Godfathers effectively explores themes of transphobia and the intersection of classism and queerness, and though not entirely unproblematic, is unique and powerful in its complex characterization of both Hana as a character and the oppressions she faces as a transwoman who is homeless. 

(Hana speaking about her desire to be loved)

Before beginning, it is important to note that the following analysis is of the 2020 English dubbed re-release of Tokyo Godfathers by GKIDS. As of now, there are many fan-subbed versions of the film circulating on the internet that misgender Hana in their subtitles. The GKIDS re-release does not so I will not be addressing that form of transphobia in my analysis. Similarly, in the original Japanese version, Hana is voiced by a man, and the fluctuations of her voice, from high and feminine when she is happy, to low and masculine when she wants to be intimidating, is present and follows a very transphobic trope in comedy. In the GKIDS dubbed version, Hana is voiced by Shakina Nayfack, a transwoman, actress, and activist, and these vocal fluctuations are not present so, once again, I will not be addressing that form of transphobia, as it was not present in the updated version that I watched.

How Shakina Nayfack used her voice to reclaim trans representation in animation

(A short article on Shakina Nayfack, the English voice actress for Hana in the 2020 GKIDS re-release)

Though Tokyo Godfathers does not have the popularity or mainstream attention to be considered a breakout text, it’s humanizing and complex characterization of Hana breaks traditional transphobic tropes, particularly in comedy, that lends itself to “creat[ing] small cracks in the glass ceiling of cultural consciousness and makes room for future breaks” (Cavalcante, 2017, p. 4). Hana is the main protagonist of the film. She is both the center of comedic relief, the leader of her found family and the driver of the plot as a whole. It is through her desire to fulfill her dream of becoming a mother, and her desperate need to understand why parents abandon their children (as her parents did to her), that motivates her, and in turn, her friends, to find the child’s parents themselves, instead of going to the police. It is in this complexity that Hana, “breaks historical representation paradigms” of both trans characters and queer characters as a whole (Cavalcante, 2017, p. 2). In her desperate search to love and be loved, Hana is immediately humanized, her identity centered in love and family, and not in her gender or sexuality, as so many queer characters are. In addition, she is not portrayed as “sexless” as is the norm for queer characters, wherein they can exist in media as long as their love stories and intimate desires do not. Though very subtle, Hana is the only character in the movie that has a love interest, Gin, and she had a boyfriend, who died, but is still a key part of her characterization. Though these love stories are not centered in the film, they are the only ones in the movie, and this exclusive existence, unique to Hana, illustrates their importance to both the themes of the movie and Hana’s character.   

(Miyuki asks Hana about her feelings for Gin)

(A photo of Hana and her ex-boyfriend Ken at the club she once worked at)

That is not to say that the queer representation in this film is by any means perfect. As mentioned, the movie is a comedy and thus falls into the historical “preponderance of these representations occurring in the comedy”, especially given that  Hana is the comedic center (Dow, 2001, p.130). Even more so, there are instances in which Hana’s trans identity is stereotyped and used as the joke itself. In one scene, she flirts with a cab driver knowing that he is uncomfortable by the fact that she is a trans woman, and his transphobia is framed as comedic. She also has a very flamboyant personality, with sharp emotional highs, and equally dramatic lows, that once again plays into stereotypical representations of transwomen as over-the-top and overly dramatized to the point of ridiculousness. In line with this, her previous line of work was as a drag queen, and though scenes of her in the drag community are dominated by a sense of love and community, it still plays into already established tropes of transwoman living as a performance. In these ways, her representation at times leans towards the role of the “clown...putting on a show for The Other” where it is “never quite clear whether we are laughing with or at this figure” (Hall,1995, p. 22).  However, as mentioned above, Hana’s complex and nuanced backstory, combined with her frequent acts of heroism and her leadership role, make it so she is deeply humanized. Though her dramatic personality falls into these stereotypical tropes at times, it does not detract from her character arc of motherhood and finding love, a nuance that is missing from many stories of trans women in media.  

(As pictured, Hana’s emotions are very dramatized and quickly jump from very high to very low)

This nuance is heightened through the intersection of classism and queerness, which is an equally prevalent theme throughout the film. In particular, class struggles are illustrated through medical care. At one point, Hana falls ill, and Gin is forced to give away his life savings in order to pay for her treatment. It is also here where Hana’s gender identity is questioned, as the hospital houses her in the men’s ward, and she explains that she “is not pleased with this”. This particular intersection of class and queerness within a medical setting is impactful given the long and “oppressive role of medicine in trans people’s lives” (Keegan, 2016, p. 607) and the strong tendency of media to tell trans folks stories, about both life and transition, in a way that is medicalized. For Hana, the discrimination she experiences at the hospital, and her inability to pay for her treatment, illustrate the violence of intersecting oppressions of queerness and homelessness in medical systems, while also straying away from the problematic representation of trans folks that are centered around a rhetoric of medicalization. More visually, the family is also a key illustrative example of how class and queerness are explored. The trio is constantly visually contrasted with traditional Japanese families in a variety of settings. This harkens back to ideas of “alternative forms” of families that queer folks create and this difference is visually exasperated by the trio’s homelessness, making them stand out in whatever space they are in (Keegan, 2016, p. 607).

(An angel asks Gin if he would rather have her magic or an ambulance. He chooses the ambulance.)

(Hana in the hospital. The subtitle reads “This ward, it’s the men’s isn't it?”)

(One of many scenes where the trio is set up in  familial positions)

As a queer, white woman living in the United States my subject positionality had a great effect on how I consumed the movie. Most notably, I was born and raised in Western society, and given that this film is Japanese and made for Japanese audiences, there is a variety of cultural norms and perceptions that I did not pick up on because of my lack of familiarity with them. In the same vein, I watched this movie translated into English and, as with every translated work, there are words and subtle, yet important, nuances in the language that were very likely lost to me as a viewer. My identity as a queer woman made it so that I was drawn to Hana as a character and was very moved by her deep desire to be a mother. The movie is steeped in images of Hana and her friends encompassing the idea of a non-traditional family, and since I would love a family of my own one day and I expect that to look different than the dominant nuclear family norm, I really focused my experience on the variety of nontraditional families that this movie shows, all of them as loving as the next.

(Hana and her drag mother reuniting)

(Hana and her family)

As a whole, Tokyo Godfathers, though not without its faults, is a refreshing take on the traditional feel-good Christmas movie trope, delving into class and queerness, and using the two to explore what it really means to be a family that is loving and kind. Spoiler alert, that family looks a little something like one ex-drag queen, one man with a gambling addiction, a teenage runaway who loves cats, and their baby they found in a dumpster.  

Sources

Dow, Bonnie (2001). “Ellen, Television, and the Politics of Gay and Lesbian Visibility.” Critical Studies in Media Communication 18(2), 123-140. 

Cavalcante, Andre (2017). “Breaking into Transgender Life: Transgender Audiences’ Experiences With ‘First of Its Kind’ Visibility in Popular Media.” Communication, Culture & Critique, 1-18. 

Keegan, Cáel (2016). “Tongues without Bodies: The Wachowskis’ Sense8.” Transgender Studies Quarterly 3(3–4), 605-610. 

Hall, Stuart (1995). “The Whites of their Eyes: Racist Ideologies and the Media,” in Gender, Race, and Class in Media 3rd ed., pp. 18-22. 

[thattimdrakeguy]

Started thinking about the idea of swapping Kon and Cassie for the formation of YJ, which leads me to two questions for you: 1) Do you have a 90s Cassie Recommended Reading List? Want to do a little research first. 2) Do you have any ideas yourself? (I’m just curious) Thanks for your time!

I read all of these, but--

https://comicvine.gamespot.com/wonder-woman/4050-3824/object-appearances/4005-10885/

Use this to fill in the gaps, and stop at Wonder Woman #136. Because that'll be all the ones written by her creator. I just went past to see if I could learn more about her school life, but it just wasn't happening.

The one issue that focused on it was absolutely terrible. They got Mark Millar, for only one issue, and he made Cassie the most generic typical teenage girl character ever, obsessed over a boy and changing how she looks to impress him, just for it all to be okay by just being herself.

She didn't act anything like Cassie. They made fun of her physical appearance. Put her in a mini-skirt, and had her and Cissie talk about if they should make Cassie's boobs look bigger.

And while I'm sure real girls are like, that and do that sort of stuff, it's not who Cassie was. Which is the problem--beyond a grown man writing about teenage girl’s boobs.

I greatly question the choice on hiring a 30 something year old man to write a singular issue of Wonder Woman focusing on the life of a teenage girl still in High School with a crush.

After reading it I straight up stopped reading any farther because I thought it was absolutely ridiculous.

---

And as far as the starting members of Young Justice being Bart, Cassie, and Timmy? Hmmm.

I'm going to say going with the characterization going with what their creators intended. Cause I do think Young Justice, characterization wise, was pretty freaking shabby. Which sucks, because it really is super funny.

But I think--hmmm.

I think the dynamics would be more like this.

Cause Tim was intended to be this morally innocent, very naïve little boy, who was pretty oblivious. And I keep saying socially oblivious with him, because that's part of it. But I should specify that he isn't a social mess. He can talk just fine, and can even be a great talker. He's just very obviously oblivious of a lot of stuff people his age and older are aware of.

Cassie's a wild-child who stays out past her curfew to party, thinks fights and battles are extremely cool, and while clever herself like Timmy, she gets ahead of herself often and ends up getting hurt. She's head-strong before anything else and doesn't like having to be protected. But she still does her best and shows that by baby sitting kids, and still being very quick-witted.

Bart is a total airhead, who quite literally doesn't know how the world works. Not in the Timmy way, but in a "I was literally raised in a video game" way. He's ill-tempered, can't relate to anyone, but loves doing Super Hero stuff and playing video games.

So I feel like their whole vibe would be like--sleepover time.

And the first issue of the actual series they're literally having a sleepover and stuff, but I mean, because I don't actually think Tim would be this Batman-esque figure, and try to act like him to be leader. I think it would be that without any sense of responsibility until they try to solve a crime.

Tim was made to be a positive-thinking, grounded person. Not a grump.

But if anyone was going to be trying to keep a lid on things it would still be Tim. He's the most level-headed one of the group so he'd have to be or else they'd all be running face first into walls.

At the same time though, I think, cause of Tim being the youngest looking, the most innocent minded, and well, literally being the youngest kid. He's have more of a little brotherly role despite being the one that keeps the lid on things. Like he'd naturally be the one that gets teased the most in that vein, and probably be protected more--Not cause he can't help himself, but I just think that because the others are both Super Powered, it'd be a reflex, and Young Justice itself originally portrayed Tim as being way more talented than he actually is. His whole thing was not being the best, but trying his best.

I think by default Cassie might have that sort of--older sister power, though. Mainly cause she's a babysitter and she's used to having to deal with brats. Just not ones closer to her own age. Even though Bart is actually the oldest of the three.

Bart's probably just a chill middle child that still gets into trouble a freaking lot, which freaks out baby brother, and makes older sister sigh, while they gotta bail him out.

Cause Tim's more prone to anxiety than Cassie is. Cassie just gets freaking annoyed over worried lol.

Also with Tim and Bart on two totally different sides of the responsibility spectrum, Cassie who's right in the middle sort of has to be the one to keep the oil in the machine or else they'd never get anything done. She's the deciding factor, and it's like flipping a coin if she's going to wanna do what Tim wants or what Bart once.

Timmy just has to deal with it and hopefully him and Cassie will be clever enough to keep them out of too much trouble.

And I feel like there'd be them mostly just playing around as kids and just talking about their interests. Because they can relate to each other a lot more, especially Tim and Cassie interest wise.

So more chaos, more kids being kids, and it being a lot more dorkier.

They'd probably just hang around Cassie's place all the time being partially babysat by Diana I imagine. Because they'd be less of a young Super Hero team, and more of just friends being friends, and they all happen to be Super Heroes.

No real leader role. Cassie and Tim both serving functions of a leader, but ultimately not a straight up leader. Tim's just the most grounded, morally innocent, and intuitive one, while Cassie I think would have the actual role of authority over them all. Her boys just following her around.

Cassie's also the most socially normal one. Bart literally doesn't know a freaking thing. Tim's not good at realizing how others will feel, and will actually break into your house with the most innocent of intentions, but still, that's wrong and creepy.

So she'd be there to reel the boys back from their weirdness. Someone's gotta pull Tim out of the trash cans looking through people’s garbage trying to solve mysteries.

I'm not sure if I explained any of that well, but that's the basics of what's in my head when I try to picture what they'd be like together.