#Tim + Kon: *shrug*

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (IV)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWO is here PART THREE is here and this is part four 💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Our boy is recovering from Bad Stuff in the Watchtower (involuntarily). Danny gets a bandaid for a variety of wounds that definitely are not covered by a little adhesive bandaid, but hey! Bart’s trying.

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Batman clicks on the projector screen. Everyone in the room has access to the slides and note-taking abilities on their tablets. The assembled heroes quietly select their app of choice, sit back in their chairs, and ready themselves for the meeting.

“Good afternoon. For everyone in alternate time zones, good morning or good evening as they apply. Before I begin the approved agenda for this meeting, there are developments on the base that everyone ought to be aware of.”

Click. The slide changes to a fuzzy image of an unusually dense collection of shadows in a typical medical-wing setup. The specific location isn’t clear, but the phenomenon itself is stark against the white walls and flooring. The static on the cameras is atypical for the quality of equipment used on the base.

“There is an extraterrestrial lifeform that has made Medical Wing C their territory. Yes, we know they are there. No, they cannot be moved at this time. Please do not try to take initiative in doing so. Please do not enter the aforementioned medical wing. If you see this entity outside of the medical wing, please leave, ignore them, or otherwise make your presence known. They are generally in search of isolation and seek to remain unseen. All known attempts at self-defense by this entity have been largely non-hostile so far, but we do not know how or if that behavior will change as they heal.”

Batman…takes a breath. Not sighs. The vigilante has more control than that.

“They are severely injured. The exact nature of their injuries are still unknown, based on their—unique physiology—“

Barry squints at the screen. Nope. The cloud still looks like a cloud.

“—But the identified fluids they secrete have been recognized as at least partially composed of red blood platelets and a modified plasma. Based on their aggressive self-defense, the persistent seclusion behavior, and their general lack of responsiveness, the injuries are considered deeply severe and require rest to treat. It is imperative that non-medical staff and on-base heroes maintain as little contact with the entity as possible. We are attempting both delicate medical treatment and non-verbal communication, which have both failed thus far. We have reason to believe that the extraterrestrial is sentient and capable of communication based on—“

Click. The next slide is an image of a nearly-obliterated craft of some kind—tinted glass, wings, debris everywhere, twisted shards of metal that look like they scrape like teeth. Charred black everywhere. Barely visible is a torn–through upholstered seat ten yards away.

A hiss breaks the silence in the back of the room. That’s nasty-looking wreck.

“—This craft. It is relatively rudimentary in its design, and would not have held up to prolonged space travel, but would have required complex intelligence to start and maintain transport. Basic testing has proven that its energy readings, while not precisely contiguous with the Speed Force, show that it has been in contact with extradimensional phenomena. A non-sentient life would not have been able to pilot it successfully enough to crash it—much less to avoid the farmhouse in its path. The result is that we have an extremely wounded entity with no shared form of communication. There have been worrying observations by their medical team, however.”

Click.

This slide is blank.

“We are now pursuing the possibility that the entity has been attacked or otherwise held captive by human organizations here on Earth. There are persistent triggers of aggression brought on by medical settings, adults, and more specifically, any present medical personnel and equipment.”

Batman pauses.

“Their medical team has informed me that their persistent fear has made treatment…difficult.”

There’s a snort from somewhere in the room.

“If you discover any evidence of possible extraterrestrial captivity or torture or experimentation among your usual cast of rogues, please forward everything you are able to base for further investigation. In this time period where the Lanterns are unavailable to return to Earth, Martian Manhunter has been notified of the need of his presence on the base, and will hopefully help settle this matter. In the meantime, as a reminder: do not enter Medical Wing C, do not engage with the entity in any way. Simply make your presence known, and they will flee.

“Now. Onto our agenda. First article: whoever has been taking the toilet paper from the supply closet, stop it. The league is not here to fund your lifestyle habit of two-ply toilet paper.”

*

There’s more food available more often.

It just appears at the foot of his bed. Like magic. Or, like…like a really, really fast human child.

Some of the packaged foods Danny can’t eat without swallowing them whole, wrapper and all. They’re just too fiddly to get with his claws—the solution is to just swallow it and let the whole thing dissolve in whatever weird ecto-acid is churning in his stomach at the moment.

The rest is fresh from the bakery—or, well the base, anyway, however this moon base gets their fresh foods. Muffins and croissants and sausage rolls and other things he would expect to see on a coffee tray or something.

…Danny prods his stomach.

He’s been too sore to notice, but this half-state of being a somewhat-physical half-ghost is super, super weird. He can eat, but it’s not processed like food is in his living body. Everything he can digest just gets incorporated. Everything he can’t just gets…

He looks down at the slowly growing puddle in his bed.

…Maybe ‘spit out’ is too generous a phrase. Expelled? Excreted?

Ew. Okay that thought is kind of gross and he doesn’t want to think about that while he can’t move away maybe.

He knows, instinctually, that he’s wounded, but this half-and-half state stops him from feeling the specifics. Knowing how, exactly, he’s hurt. Experiencing the majority of the pain and distress.

He curls up on his bed.

Danny hates it here. Not because it’s bad (it is) but because he wants to be home. He selfishly, desperately wants to be home. He wants his rocket sheets. He wants his room with its glow in the dark stars.

…He wants his dad to heat up soup and sit with him, like when he was little and had nightmares. He wants Jazz to sit on the edge of his bed and read to him.

Danny wants Mom.

 …There is some other company here, though.

Sometimes, if Danny is mostly sated and kind of sleepy, the quick human buzzes in with a few of its age-mates. The two don’t get as close as the buzzing human can, because Danny can at least read the Excited!! or Nervous!! or Booored! energy on the human, which makes him more comfortable with letting it in close. Its friends seem to respect his space, though. They don’t go past his curtain, even if it’s open. They talk, but they don’t yell.

Danny thinks he’s getting the soft little bones back in one of his ears, but he can’t fully tell. He can hear that they’re chattering and he can hear which sounds they’re making, but he can’t understand any of them.

Auuuuughhhhh. He pushes the pillow more underneath himself. Does he have brain damage?? Is he…is he missing pieces of his brain??

There won’t be a concrete way to tell until he solidifies again. Gross. He doesn’t want to do that yet.

Or soon.

…Or at all, maybe.

Mom was so mad at him. Maybe he’ll be safe and he can come home if she…if he can’t be touched…?

…No. He remembers. Mom makes things for ghosts.

??Concern?Con??cern?

Danny looks up. Oh. He made the human vibrate all nervously. Danny’s fine. Well—he’s not fine but he’s not hurting more than usual or hungry.

The human is careful not to touch him when he doesn’t want to be touched, but Danny’s feeling generous. When the human puts its hands on the bed, Danny willingly brushes his knuckles up against it.

No claws. A peace offering.

The human goes suuuuper still.

…Uh. Did he break it?

And then it zoooooooms away faster than Danny can comprehend (he jolts) and sprints back with a whole lot of stuff in its hands, and a few things thumpthumpthump ono his bed. And.

Well. None of it smells like food? When he bites it, it doesn’t taste like food either. In fact the texture is…

Danny frowns. Turns over the object so he can see it better. (It doesn’t help.) Is that plastic?

Wait. Danny twists it in half. His wrists ache but the pieces rotate.

…It’s a rubric’s cube.

…Huh.

There are other puzzles too—things that taste like plastic and one that tastes like wood, which he might have dented with his teeth by accident. Whoops. Danny puts that one farthest away, in the hopes that he doesn’t accidentally damage it a second time.

…Huh. That’s. That’s nice.

Danny surprises himself and the surprised!surprised! human with a purr.

It’s not a lot. Not even monetarily is this little offering a lot.

But it’s more than Danny’s had in a long time.

[theduckboy]

hi happy pride 🏳️‍🌈 (dc fan pride month starts a day early because we are cool 👍). i look away for like a month and the miguel o'hara spider-man tag turns into 90% reader fanfiction posts. What is happening dude

[covertblizzard]

bart 🤝 kon 🤝 greta: experimented on as a child

[incorrectbatfam]

Bruce trying to shove talk his in law

Bruce: *opens his mouth*

Wally: *zooms away*

———————

Bruce: *long spiel*

Bruce: ...And that's why if either of you hurt him, I'll make sure you stay dead this time.

Roy: *takes out one earbud*

Roy, to Artemis: Did you hear something?

Artemis, watching TV: *shrugs*

———————

Kory: I've come to seek your blessing to ask Barbara out.

Bruce: Sure.

Kory: That's it? Isn't there a ritual bat-talk you undergo with all of your children's lovers?

Bruce: Barbara can handle it herself.

———————

Bruce: If any of you make Tim sad for even a SECOND, I will take everything you have.

Bernard, a college student: *hands him a dollar*

Kon, a farmer: *empties a pocket of dirt*

Bart, a Bart: *spits out a pizza crust*

————��——

Steph and Cass: *enter holding hands*

Bruce: It's too early for this.

Steph: It's three PM.

———————

Bruce: Thank you for the intel, Detective Montoya. Now about you and my cousin—

Renee: Hold on, I'm getting a call.

Renee: *answers the phone and walks away*

———————

Bruce: You must be Duke's girlfriend.

Izzy: Yeah, I am. Got a problem with that, nepo baby?

Bruce: ...You may proceed.

———————

Jon: Hiya, Mr. Wayne! I'm here for me and Dami's playdate.

Bruce: Did you say playDATE?

———————

Bruce: He may seem tough, but on the inside he's a little boy who's been hurt too many times.

Selina: Is this really necessary?

Bruce: Promise me you'll take care of that little boy!

Selina: Okay, okay, yeesh.

———————

Bruce: YOU BREAK HIS HEART AND YOU'LL REGRET IT, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?

Alfred: Master Bruce, I think you misinterpreted what I meant by I love scones.

[rboooks]

Child Support Part 2

Tim watched the other young heroes as they tried to look around the watch tower without seeming like they were. He's been here plenty of times, but the rest of the Teen Titans and a few of the Young Justice hasn't.

Much was due to the older heroes leaving the younger ones alone. Some not taking them seriously enough to welcome them at the big HQ as much as that made his blood boil.

They were taking the same risks. They were fighting the same good fights. Why was their age the main reason they weren't treated equally?

Some teenage heroes weren't part of a team per see, but they always answered when a call was sent. For example, Cass and Steph were present, speaking softly to Static Shock. Damian was standing next to Jon and his little friend Colin who was just getting into the swing of the hero business.

Bruce almost bit through his tongue when Damian told him Abuse would be joining Robin on parol, and he could do nothing to stop them. (Tim felt like he was watching Damian tell Bruce a paraphrased version of "But Daddy, I love him!" and it kept him smiling for weeks)

It was wild to see almost every young hero in one place. He doesn't think this happened since the last time Justice Leauge got mind controlled and almost destroyed the whole world.

"Any idea why we're here?" Kon asks to his right, lowering his shade to stare at the Outlaws. Jason's team stood to the side chatting iddly while cleaning over thier weapons.

Kon's always like their punk point of view, and he knows his best friend wants to go over there to talk to them. If it wasn't for the issue of the clone still being mad about what Jason did at the Teen Titans tower. Almost murder was hard to forgive for people outside the Bats.

"None. All I know is that John Constantine sent out a message to every teenage superhero group calling for a meet-up," Tim responds.

Bart whistles with a grimace on his right. "Must be bad if that guy is asking."

"I heard Hawkwoman tell Superman that she was worried and wasn't sure she wanted anyone of us mixed up in Constantine's mistakes." Cassie chimes in from where she leans on the couch. The three turn to her as she lowers her voice, attempting to keep the others from hearing. "Batman told her off for it."

"Batman did?" Tim asks, surprised.

Cassie shrugs, throwing a bit of her blond hair over her shoulder. "As much Batman can emote anyway."

Yeah, that sounded about right. Though it must have been something Bruce found disrespectful. His dad usually never reprimanded strangers unless they were saying something or doing something that sounded far too much like bigotry to him.

But to apply that to Constantine? Someone, Bruce generally disliked communicating with because the man tended to backstab his contacts? Yes, Constantine wasn't evil, but he wasn't pleasant either.

If Bruce had magical issues, he tended to contact Zatanna first.

Just then, the watch tower's zeta beams activate. Everyone who gathered turns to the teleporting pads where Constantine appears looking, for lack of a better word, absolutely exhausted. Even Tim knows that his eye bags aren't that bad, and he's usually going hours without sleep.

"Oh good, you all made it," Constantine says, sipping from a mug and wearing nothing but sweatpants and what looks like a nightgown. His signature trench coat was nowhere in sight. "I'm going to be quick about this. I need a team of young heroes willing to accept my son into their fold."

The room is dead silent. Constantine sighs. "Look, I've tried everything, but it's like Danny is allergic to laying low. He fought with a demon the other day over a child's doll- which you all know happens. People get haunted! But Danny refused to do it the right way, and now I had to beat off the demon's marriage proposal at least ten times. Not to mention his lack of social skills! No matter which one I stick him in, he can't seem to make friends in school. He got shoved into a locker on his first day! I thought that was an American exaggeration of the telly!"

Constantine pauses and takes a large gulp of whatever he's drinking before continuing his rant. A hand runs through his already messy hair, leaving it in bigger disarray as he speaks. "He's behind in terms of trends and technology cause his other father raised him outside of the typical timelines, so sometimes it's like talking to someone from the early two thousand, and other times it's like he's a modern Victorian era lad. His powers are also all over the place because the ectoplasm in our world is thicker, so when he breathes it in, he losses his control. Just the other day he accidentally made himself fly through our ceiling and almost reach the atmosphere before I was able to bring him back down."

A few of the fliers in the room wince. Jon nods and whispers under his breath, though his voice carries in the silence. "Yeah, been there before. Flying can be scary if you don't know how to come down."

Johns glances around at all the young people, eyes showing a tad bit of desperation. "He's sad all the time now, and I don't know how to help. If working with you could help him make friends, I would be grateful. He's a great kid. He just needs to adjust."

Tim had no idea what to do with this information; how do you respond to arguably one of the strongest Justice League Darks' heroes asking for a play date for his son?

"How old is the child?" Damian's voice rings out. Colin's hand is attached to his sleeve, a slightly nervous smile on the boy's face as he attempts to hide from the staring heroes behind his brother. Tim bets that if he wasn't wearing the domino mask, they would be able to see slight tears in Colin's eyes.

Damian's other hand goes across his body to cover Colin's hand, and Tim fights a shit-eating grin. His eyes lock with Jason, and the two send each other knowing grins. Looks like Bruce did have to worry about Damian having a secret boyfriend.

He can't wait to tease Damian later.

"He's fourteen....or well, physically?" Constantine answers eagerly.

"What does that mean?" Kon asks this time.

"Okay, so he's half human, half ecto-being. He sired him with his other father, Clockwork, which was only four years ago in this dimension, but since he was raised in the Infinite Relemas, times move differently there? " The British man says, and Raven goes rigid.

"Clockwork, as in the most powerful Ancient?" She asks, looking horror-struck when Constantine nods.

Before anyone asked what that meant, the zeta tubes activated again without permission. Someone had hacked into their systems which were ten levels bad. Everyone naturally fell into a fighting stance, only to blink when a teenage boy stepped out with a loud excited screech.

"We're in space!" The teenager runs to one of the windows, pressing his hands and face up against the glass. "This is amazing!"

Tim only relaxes his muscles once Constantine clears his throat. "Chum...what are you doing here?"

"Oh. One of your curse rocks things started proposing to me again, so I ran out of the House of Mysteries. Thought I see what you were up to." The teenager says, turning around with a smile and utterly freezing at the sight of the gathered heroes.

He had dark hair, wide blue eyes, and the most adorable face Tim had ever seen. Not as sexy as Bernard, of course, but darn close. Judging by the looks of anyone attractive to males, most heroes thought the same.

"Um...hi?" He says, offering the Godsmack teenagers a helpless little shrug. "I'm Danny Constantine."

"It is a pleasure, Constantine." Damian marches over to him with all his little twelve-year-old authority. He barely reaches Danny's chest. "I shall look forward to working with you. Are you formally trained in combat or strictly magic?"

"Um...oh, I can throw a punch or two? I'm mostly self taught. I rely on my powers a lot?" Danny fumbles to answer throwing a desperate look at his presumed father.

"No matter. I shall have you begin training. My Beloved also needs to work on his form. There is no shame in this" Damian nods, and Constantine lets out a large sigh of relief. He jogs over to place a hand on his son's shoulder, giving him a one-sided hug

"Yes, Danny, you will join Robin, Superboy, and Abuse on missions. They agree to help you settle and get used to your ghost powers." Constantine smiles. "I'll give me time to discourage all those idiots from trying to trick you into marriage."

"Oh...okay. It's nice to meet you all. Please call me Phantom on the field. Um, are you the team leader?" He asks Damian as the three youngest boys lead him further into the watch tower.

Constantine watches them go with the brightest smile he's ever seen on the man's face. He looks back to the group, who were barely starting to pick their jaws off the floor and makes a shooing motion with his hand. "You lot are dismissed."

Then the man vanishes in a green portal.

There is a ringing silence until Barts blurts out. "I'm pretty sure this is where the Phantom Fan Club first formed. A historical moment."

Tim wants to take a nap.

( Part 1 )

[nicomoon69]

the moment Bernard found out that Tim tried to clone Kon he demanded to look over Tim’s research and with a red pen started writing down corrections

Tim who didn’t think too much of it (big mistake), shrugged it off and forgot about it until roughly three weeks later there was a pile of papers on his desk with a sticky note on top that said ‘pro tip: get good at science first, then clone your totally platonic best friend’

[wondersinwaynemanor]

like father, like kids. and make it with Bruce and the Wayne kids with cheesy pick up lines for their partners.

imagine Bruce searching through the internet on what to say and he stumbles on cheesy pick up lines, thinking they work with his flirtation skills. he already has that playboy persona he puts on, but what if he wants to expand his skills?

his kids are just like him. their partners talking about how cheesy they sound, but does it really matter? the lines work on them anyways.

just imagine some scenerios:

-

Wally, calling Babs: Hey, Babs. Did Dick ever do cheesy pick up lines to you?

Babs, laughs: He tried. Is he getting any better?

Wally, blushing hard: I mean...

Babs: I shouldn't even be asking you, Walls. No matter what he does, you adore him.

Roy, who hears Wally's question to Babs, grins: Jaybird does the same.

Wally: Probably a brother thing?

-

Jon: Kon, should I be worried that Damian is starting to talk... Like....

Kon: Like what?

Jon, cheeks turning red: He's telling me pick up lines from Tumblr that I found last week!

Kon, baffled: Hold up! I swear Tim just recently told me also-

-

Steph: So, does Duke's pick up lines work on you?

Izzy, smiles: He doesn't need to, but I appreciate the effort.

Steph, shrugs with a knowing smile: I know the feeling.

somewhere at the Watchtower:

Batman: You're just like the Bat signal because you light up the darkness.

Wonder Woman blinks before smiling lovingly at Batman.

somehow Roy and Wally hears the gossip between Batman and Wonder Woman.

Red Arrow: So it must be a family thing.

Flash: Yuppp, not just a brother thing.

Superman, smirks: A hundred percent.

[qcomicsy]

The Office but it's the Batfamily.

Bernard (To the camera): I think Bruce hates me.

---

Bruce (to the camera): I am very glad Tim, found himself dating someone. I don't think there's someone who would ever be enough to any of my children.

Bruce: But he is happy. So I am happy as well.

---

Bernard, invited over to dinner: That's. . . Um, A very nice mansion you have here sir. Really big. Big enough to hide an secret passage to clones but–

Tim, gesturing to him to shut the fuck up: HAHAHAHA ISN'T HE FUNNY?! (whispering) ᴮᵉʳⁿᵃʳᵈ ᴵ ˢʷᵉᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒᵈ.

Bernard: WhichI'mnotimplyingyoudoanyway. But– IT'S NICE. Really nice. Thanks for uh inviting. . . Me.

Bruce, glaring: Hn.

---

Bruce (to the camera): Dick told me to make a "chit-chat". Be sure that our guest felt welcomed.

---

Bruce (to Bernard): Did you gave it a thought about your internship yet? When I started medical school I had a great interest on how Gotham's Hospital deals with post mortem patients.

Bernard:

---

Bruce (to the camera): I tried to find a common ground to make conversation. We both had similar majors, even though I've drop out

Bruce: I'm glad it was enough for a good starter.

---

Bernard (to the camera horrified): He wants me dead.

---

Dick (to the camera): HOW WOULD I KNOW HE WOULD PULL UP THE SERIAL KILLER TALK??–

---

Steph (to the camera): There's something really uncanny in seen it happen to another person.

Steph: And also really fucking funny too.

---

Kory (to the camera): The first time I got there I'm pretty sure was the time he made a contingency plan for me.

Kory: Which is cute. He thinking it would work but– Yeah.

---

Barbara (to the camera): Me and Dick? Oh he stopped talking to me for several weeks.

Barbara: When he did, he said "You are making a mistake".

Barbara:

Barbara: Don't you hate when he is right?

---

Kon (to the camera): I wasn't aloud to enter the house– I when I dated Cass, so–

Kon: Not that stopped me. But it still hurts.

---

Cass (to the camera), shrugging: I liked his piercings.

---

Bernard: . . . I didn't– Yet. No sir. I'm just, huh. . . Going with the flow?

Bruce: That's unfortunate. It's really important to always have a plan.

Bernard (gulps): You think?

Bruce: Yes. You never know what might happens next.

---

Damian (to the camera): It was the best dinner I've ever attended in this house.

---

Tim (to the camera): *Loud sight* I don't know what I was expecting.

---

Jason (to the camera): Are we really just going to pass on how his boyfriend looks like a knock off Scooby-doo member?

Jason: Like he is rocking a StarStruck haircut– And we just?– Okay.

---

Dick (to the camera): I mean it's not like Bruce is doing on purpose right?

---

Bruce, grinning to the camera: Hn.

---

Duke (to the camera): Oh he's absolutely doing on purpose.

[suzukiblu]

NaNoWriMo fic, day one: obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Tim Drake had absolutely no intentions of ever becoming anyone's sugar daddy when he met Superboy.

This would have worked out better for him if Superboy had ever had an actual legal identity or an actual legal guardian or just . . . literally anything whatsoever in life. Ever. At all.

Just a bank account, even.

"You're working for Cadmus," Tim says slowly. "Cadmus, as in the lab that stole Superman's body and cloned him without his consent. Cadmus, which you had to break out of so they couldn't put mind control code words in your head."

"Yeah," Superboy replies like that's not literally insane. Tim stares at him.

"Why?" he asks incredulously.

"Food and shelter?" Superboy shrugs. "And I mean, I dunno, where else am I gonna go?"

Tim is not okay with this situation.

"What did Superman say?" he says.

"Just to like, keep an eye on things," Superboy says with another shrug. "Make sure they're not up to anything shifty."

Tim stares at him.

"Superman," he says. "Told you to just . . . 'keep an eye on' the dubiously ethical cloning lab. The specific dubiously ethical cloning lab that tried to put mind control code words in your head. Specifically."

"Yeah," Superboy confirms.

Alright, Tim is actually even less okay with this situation than he thought, apparently. Like, impressively less.

"Okay," he says. It is absolutely no kind of okay in any way whatsoever, of course, but he doesn't want to put Superboy on the defensive. That'd make effectively interrogating him a lot harder, for one thing. Cooperative subjects are best in these situations. "What are they paying you?"

"I mean, like, they gave me my own room and they're feeding me and whatever, so I don't really need much money," Superboy says. "There's a discretionary fund I can use if I need to go on an undercover mission or anything like that? But I'm not really the undercover type anyway."

"Sure," Tim says. So . . . no way for Superboy to save up to move out and get an out-of-lab life, then. Great. That's not fucked-up or crazy or horrible at all. "Do you like it there?"

"It's okay," Superboy says, shrugging again. "Better than literally everybody in Hawaii yelling at me every time they see my face, yeah?"

Tim wants to set the world on fire, but he's trying really hard not to go supervillain before he's thirty and he'd hate to throw out all that hard work.

"They just let me do whatever, mostly," Superboy adds. "They don't really care as long as I'm around when they need me."

He'll go supervillain as soon as Bruce dies, Tim promises himself. Just–he'll give his share of the eulogy at the funeral and then he'll blow up three-fourths of Arkham and the entire GCPD while Commissioner Gordon is on his lunch break. He can time that out, that'll be easy. And then he'll go and personally murder the Joker with the very specific combination of a rusty crowbar and a shrapnel bomb, and then he'll just . . . well, he'll just go with the flow from there, he figures. Do whatever feels natural.

Seriously, the world as it is does not deserve to exist. It really just does not.

Tim figures he can probably convince the rest of Young Justice to tag along for the whole supervillain thing and hopefully Dick and Steph and Barbara too, and ideally also Alfred, in the unfortunately likely event that he outlives Bruce. He's got time to lay the groundwork with them all and all, and also everything really is awful and horrible and really does deserve to burn.

"Are they sending you to school or anything? Or tutoring you?" Tim asks with what little scraps of hope he has left. Higher education would be . . . well, something, at least. And actually it probably wouldn't hurt for Superboy to learn a bit more about genetic engineering from the same place he got genetically engineered, just in case anything goes wrong with his DNA again. Cadmus should at least be good for that much, right?

"Ew, no, thank fuck," Superboy says, making a face. "Like I said, they mostly let me do whatever until something needs punched."

So . . . no furthered education or learning any usable job skills or making real money or literally anything that could, again, lead to Superboy ever getting any kind of an actual out-of-lab life established.

Great.

Just great.

"I see," Tim says.

"It's a pretty sweet gig, considering," Superboy says, and grins brightly at him. It's a very nice grin. Normally being faced with that particular grin would make Tim need to beat down the highly unprofessional urge to kiss it.

Right now, though, he's a little bit more concerned with the fact that his teammate is just . . . living in and working for a fucking lab. As a matter of course. Just as a thing.

And Superman of all people thinks that's . . . fine, for some reason? Like, normal and ethical and okay? Somehow? In some way?

What the actual fuck, Tim thinks to himself.

"You said Superman told you to keep an eye on things?" he asks.

"Yeah," Superboy says, his grin widening. "He took me to his fortress and asked me to do it there. Showed me around a bit, too."

"That sounds really interesting," Tim says, wondering in vague disbelief if that means Superman had never taken Superboy to the Fortress of Solitude before. He must've, right? And just . . . inexplicably not shown Superboy around then.

Yeah. Sure.

"It was awesome!" Superboy says with more enthusiasm than Tim's seen from him since they met Nina Dowd's . . . endowments, seemingly forgetting the need to be "cool" for long enough to lean forward in his seat and outright beam at him. Tim is gonna need a minute to recover from the sight of that expression, probably. "It's seriously freaking freezing up there, but there's so much cool shit in the place. Like, from all over the universe, but from Krypton, even! The only thing I'd ever seen from Krypton before was kryptonite!"

Tim considers moving up his supervillain timeline after all. Like. Just possibly. Just a little.

Maybe he can convince Bruce to take an early retirement off-planet and just go from there.

What the hell is wrong with Superman?

"Oh, wow, really?" Tim says, simultaneously pretending he didn't already know what Superman has in his fortress and trying not to be screamingly obvious about the internal calculations he's running on figuring out how to weaponize red sunlight. Or like, maybe he could look into learning some magic. That's technically an option. Probably more time-consuming and harder to hide the process of, though. Still, it's on the table.

"Yeah. He showed me some of it. Told me some stories and stuff, even," Superboy says, and that excited grin turns just a little bit shy and soft and somehow even more distracting than usual. He ducks his head just a little, and then that soft grin is more like a soft smile, and Tim suffers. "And I, uh–and he gave me something, too."

"What did he give you?" Tim asks, praying to God that the answer is "an emergency contact number" or "an allowance that can cover a semi-decent Metropolis apartment" or "an offer to live literally anywhere but Cadmus, including in the thirtieth century or on a hostile alien planet or inside an active volcano". He's technically an atheist, so the praying thing is probably moot, but times of desperation are times of desperation.

"A name," Superboy says, and his smile widens helplessly. "Like, you know, a real one."

Tim might hate Superman, he thinks. That might actually be a thing now.

Yeah, he's definitely going supervillain after Bruce dies and doesn't need an emotional support sidekick anymore. Better start stocking up on the kryptonite.

"That's great," he says with a very carefully not-forced smile of his own instead of anything more along the lines of "wait, you've been alive and active as a superhero for all this time and no one ever actually named you?!" Superboy would probably take it the wrong way, not in the least because that genuinely never actually occurred to him as being a thing before. Like–he really did just assume Superboy was keeping a lid on whatever his real name was for personal reasons or Superman reasons or something. "Are you allowed to tell me it, or is that a no-go?"

"Oh, yeah," Superboy says with a sheepish laugh, rubbing at his arm. "It's like, a Kryptonian name? Not like a secret identity one. It's, uh, Kon-El."

Of course it's not even a damn secret identity, Tim thinks in absolute frustration and abject loathing. Of course not! Why would it be?! Fuck forbid!

"I like it," he says, because he lies to Batman and therefore there is no fucking way that he's going to let Superboy–Kon–see any sign whatsoever of the metaphorical 9.9 on the Richter scale that is currently happening in his psyche. "It suits you."

"You think?" Kon grins all the wider. Tim can't even calm down enough to want to kiss him, except in the sense that he always wants to kiss him.

"I do," he says, and smiles at him again.

Kon smiles back.

Tim hates everything. All the things. There is nothing that Tim doesn't hate right now, except maybe Alfred's snickerdoodles because he might be having a nervous breakdown but he's not, like, criminally insane or whatever.

Yet.

"Yeah, it's kinda cool," Kon says, straightening up in his seat and then leaning back, clearing his throat and slipping his sunglasses back on like they're not in a literal cave right now. Tim doesn't call him on it, because he has a supervillain timeline to work out and that's much more important.

Also because the teammate he has an inadvisable crush on is in a much, much shittier situation than he ever realized and he has to reconcile that with his worldview and also his opinion of Superman. Tim doesn't especially idolize the man except in the sense of knowing he's one of the greatest heroes on Earth and a very, very good man that Bruce thinks incredibly highly of, one of the best men on the League and maybe even on the planet, but . . .

But if he's such a good man, then why the hell is Kon living in a lab that tried to mind-control him and why has he only just seen the Fortress of Solitude for the first time?

Why didn't he have a real name?

"So do we call you Kon or Kon-El now?" Tim asks, which is a bit of a senseless question but also at least a bit of a distraction. He wants to say this whole situation is a horrible idea, who the FUCK convinced you this situation was a good idea?!, but there is no possible way that Kon would respond well to that. Ever.

Also, Kon had a point. Where else is he gonna go?

Clearly not the Fortress of Solitude.

Seriously, would it be that hard for Superman to give him a room there? At least a place to stay sometimes, so he wasn't exclusively relying on the mind-control cloning lab for food and shelter and basic comforts?

"I think just Kon?" Kon says, frowning consideringly. "'El' is like Superman's last name, I guess? So I think just Kon."

"Makes sense," Tim says, internally seething. Superman gave him the "El" name but not a secret identity? A name from a dead civilization with a bit of sentimental value, maybe, but nothing usable on this planet? Fuck, you'd think Kon didn't already know his secre–

. . . Kon doesn't know Superman's secret identity, does he.

Tim had thought he was lying, when he'd said that stuff about Superman not having one, before. Thought it was supposed to be a cover or a misdirection or something. But Kon actually thinks that, doesn't he. And Superman has just . . . kept letting him think that.

Becoming a supervillain actually might be an underreaction, in retrospect.

"Just Kon sounds less formal anyway," Tim says instead of so just in theory, do you think tactile telekinesis could trigger a heart attack or stroke in a full-blooded Kryptonian, if you could REALLY concentrate on doing it? like not FATALLY, just dehabilitatingly?, because he still has some groundwork to do before they get that far into potential supervillainy. There's steps to the plan. The steps need to be followed. They're very important steps. "You don't want Bart full-naming you every time he's looking for the remote."

"Like he'd even bother, it's faster for him to turn the living room upside-down than actually ask anyway," Kon says with a laugh, dropping his head back on his neck. Tim has some thoughts about climbing into his lap and figuring out if the TTK makes him hickey-proof, and then buries them. Not appropriate. Not professional. Just not.

. . . technically, if Kon wanted a hickey, he could just let his TTK down and ask for–

Tim buries his thoughts deeper.

Much, much deeper.

"Point," he says. "So what time does Cadmus expect you back?"

"Dude, it's a job, not a boarding school," Kon says, giving him an amused look. "I don't have a curfew."

Tim, technically, hasn't followed his own curfew any way but accidentally once in his entire life, but for god's sake, is Cadmus even pretending to be raising a teenager or are they really just being that flagrant about ignoring all the child labor laws they so clearly do not give a fuck about? Like, there must be something illegal about this. There has to be.

If there's not, Tim will be adding "burn down Project Cadmus" to his list of supervillain plans to set up in advance. In red pen. Underlined.

Twice.

God, why is the world like this. Why are people like this?

"I guess that'd be convenient," Tim says, internally ranking various methods of combustion. "Though I guess it depends on the cafeteria hours, too."

"It's whatever, I can always eat later," Kon replies with a shrug. "I think I've still got a couple protein bars in my room anyway."

"Just protein bars?" Tim asks, mentally upping the amount of explosives he was considering going with. Cadmus is going to be a crater by the time he's done with it. "Don't you need more calories than that?"

". . . well, sort of," Kon says, folding his arms and looking very briefly embarrassed. "Superman doesn't have to eat, apparently, but, uh, guess I'm not Kryptonian enough for that. Actually I kinda need to eat more than normal humans, it's weird. Like. A lot more."

"I'm ordering pizza," Tim says, upping his mental explosives count again. "What do you want on it?"

"We're the only ones here," Kon says, looking puzzled.

"More pizza for us, then," Tim says.

[confused-wanderer]

The entire batfamily’s dynamic and trope- no matter the situation of hurt, anger, sadness, love or loathing - can be fit into one single quote:

“I didn’t know where else to go”

Duke sees it barely a month after he moves into the manor. It was a quiet afternoon, he was finishing up some work when the motion sensor lights up. And then three seconds later, he hears the raps on the door. Tight, repressed but purposeful. So it was definitely one of the family.

He opens the door, and Stephanie is there. She looks a bit startled, understandable as Duke was still a recent addition to the family, before she looks down, huffs and goes inside. He feels Jason’s presence behind him, one of those rare but not so rare occasions where Jason was staying at the mansion and having a cooking session with Alfred. Jason sighs, puts a hand on Duke’s shoulder and follows after Steph.

The second time he was witness to it was at Dick’s apartment. The two were hanging out, both laughing and playing games before Duke notices that while ordering dinner Nightwing asks for four large pizzas. And when Duke asks, Dick just shrugs, a look in his eyes that Duke can’t quite place. Later when they return from patrol, Duke almost has a heart attack at the silent figures in the shadows, lounging on the couch and eating the pizza. Tim barely acknowledges them, body tight while Kon, Jason and Harper keep munching with no explanation.

And the more he sees these incidents - be it Jason going to Tim, Barbara coming to Dick, Cass crashing at Stephanie’s’ or all of them coming to Bruce - one of the bats using the mansion as a lighthouse in their darkest hours, or seeking out others in times of need, he swears he can hear their voices in the silence, each time louder than the last.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

Nobody ever said those words out loud. Most times they just sought out company, normalcy or the closest thing they knew to it. But thankfully, in a family of stubborn people in pain, they all were detectives, and always kept an extra plate, an extra chair and console, always open for the other.

[thief-of-eggs]

‘Who would propose first, Tim or Kon-?”

NEITHER.

Tim and Kon never propose. After dating for a while, they slowly just start blending their lives together, until one day they’re staying in a shared apartment with an adopted cat they both picked out and named together, and neither of them quite remembers when they ever even moved in with each other. They both introduce the other as their husband, even if they don’t have the rings to back it up, and they’re talking about adopting a kid someday. When someone asks how long they’ve been married, they both get stumped and try working out the math right there- Kon estimates about five years, Tim guesses around two- until eventually they give up and just shrug.

And of course, Kon gets down on Tim for his answer later, but Tim just says time is hard to keep track of.

It’s only after about ten years that Kon jokingly proposes with a paper ring one night while they’re out to eat after a long mission, and Tim goes still because- holy shit they never proposed. This is the first actual proposal Kon’s ever given to him.

Kon doesn’t know why Tim bursts into tears and hugs him tight, re-professing his love in the dingy diner, but he doesn’t question it- after all, Tim just does stuff like that. It’s nothing abnormal.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (III)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWO is here and this is Part Three 💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Boy had a break down, stole a medical cot, took a nap. Bone Appetite. Oh yeah and maybe he made a friend. Maybe

Trigger warnings for: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚 

Sleeping in a puddle of your own fluids gets really gross after a while.

Danny grumbles quietly. Ew. It’s all…blood and plasma and goo and ectoplasm and various other nasty body liquids he doesn’t actually want to identify.

Gross. He’s soaked the mattress some too.

And he wants food. He can feel the empty cavern where his stomach ought to be rumble with wantwantwantwant. It makes his core whine—when his body is too damaged to be human, sometimes it treats itself as if being human is his obsession. He wants, because having human food and water and safety will make him more human again.

…Maybe he can snatch another one of those NastyRibs today. They’ve got meat. Protein.

Danny’s tail lashes as he considers going to the cafeteria again. But what if he gets lost? And loses his cot? It’s a nice cot. Much better than dirt and far superior to the container.

Maybe it is just smarter to go to sleep again? The more he explores, the more likely it is for someone to see him. To find him. To put him back in the container.

Danny presses closer to the cot mattress, his fluids squelching up around him. And what if the one thing finds him?! The thing he couldn’t bite?? That’s not safe! He can’t get picked up by it again! He can’t fight back! What if it crushes his core??

His curtain pulls back with a sharp skkkhsk of metal rings on metal bars. Danny bares his teeth and hisses, and—

—Oh. It’s the buzzing human again. Danny slowly lets his damaged muscles relax. It purrs in a language Danny can’t hear (did he lose his tiny ear bones??) very quickly and very pleased as it chats about something. Whatever. It’s not a threat and it’s a good distraction. Danny rolls onto his side so he can watch.

It makes a sad noise. Danny perks up. Why is it sad? Why would it—? BAGEL! Actually it doesn’t matter why the human is sad because it gives him a bagel. With cream cheese. Untoasted!!

Carbs go down sooooo smoothly. He doesn’t even get any crumbs stuck between his mostly-present teeth. It’s good. So good.

The buzzing human buzzes away, leaving Danny in a cloud of agitated air and a vague sense of concern. Concern? Did something happen?

The immature human voices come back. Danny perks up. They sound familiar, but they lack the vibrational quality of the buzzy human. It will be harder to tell what they want and where they are.

A face pokes past the curtain. Danny’s sight is too poor. He can’t recognize it. He hisses.

The buzzing child slides back in with a hvmmmmvm to put itself between Danny and the new face. Good. Bad, if the human gets hurt, but good that it doesn’t want Danny to get hurt either.

The new face doesn’t attack them either. It makes a long, drawn-out noise that Danny is mostly sure is a complaint or three, but the buzzing kid hops around, free and light, and zips off and zips back.

Danny peeks from under his arm.

Oooh. The new human has clean blankets. He does want those. Maybe they’ll sop up the fluids he’s sitting in. Now…will they offer them? Will Danny have to fight them for it?

His tail flickers. If they’re more like ghosts, he’ll have to fight. Danny doesn’t want to. They’re young humans. He might injure them without realizing. But he really wants those sheets. Maybe he could steal them very quickly…?

Danny doesn’t have much time to wonder though because he is snatched off the mattress??

He almost bites the buzzing human before he recognizes the buzzingbuzzingbuzzing under the skin of the human holding him in its grip. Why is he being held?! Is this a threat??

Is he going back to the container??

There are more young humans here suddenly, taking his bed and—hey! Taking his cot! They pull off the mattress, drag it off somewhere, and Danny won’t bite but he will phase through the arms of the small human and leave.

So he does.

It’s not comfortable to find another empty conference room and to hide there. But young humans are impatient.

They’ll leave Danny alone.

…eventually.

For now, though he’ll just hide his core under the table. It’s scratchy carpeting and hard wood on his sensitive core and he’s cranky and tired and he misses his cot.

If that red and blue thing tries to pick him up again, he’s going to bite him.

*

The hand that wakes him up is not the blue and red human this time.

Danny thinks it is, at first, and bites it as soon as he reforms. But this human yells and drops him, so it is not! Fantastic. Danny slides through the wall—

—And the human tugs him back into the conference room by his tail. Hello?! What?? Ow??????

Danny barely has time to bare his teeth before the whole world is spinning and moving fastfastfast and���

He plops onto his cot. Or. Danny is plopped onto his cot. He’s. On his cot?

The hell?

It’s. Danny sniffs. Pokes the mattress. There are new sheets on it. One layer underneath feels bouncy and tense, like it’s rubberized. But it’s his cot. Undoubtedly. It still sort of smells like all his juices rotting.

The buzzing human zips into the curtain that hides Danny’s cot. It and the new adult human start arguing. And then the adult starts buzzing.

Danny’s back is all tense and he doesn’t understand. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weeeird.

The adult goes away. Then Danny’s left with the younger buzzing human, and three strangers.

They’re so blurry. At least the humans that vibrate endlessly are red. The rest are a random mystery to him—splotches of warm reds and yellows on black, which is just dark enough to screw with his recently lacking depth perception. Fantastic.

Danny presses his face into the pillow.

His more-familiar-human buzzes off and is back in a flash—this time with a half-dozen different fancy breads.

They smell nice.

They look nice. Probably. Danny inches closer. There’s some spots of red, of blue. There’s probably fruits in them. Sugars, carbs—if there’s a lot of oils in them, that’s good for fats as well. Danny really needs the extra calories at the moment.

He almost goes for them. He does. But he doesn’t want to encourage that stupid picking-him-up behavior, so he leaves them be and pretends they’re not there, in the hopes that the young humans go away before he starts showing off his teeth about it.

The red human inches closer, and makes cunning little Don’t You Want It? noises. Danny’s neither a baby nor an idiot. He keeps a narrowed, half-formed eye out.

The buzzy human buzzes closer.

Danny stretches out his claws. A little twitch of pain and they solidify nice and sharp in the yellow light.

The buzzing human wisely takes a step back. And leaves the breads on the end of the cot.

Smart.

Danny doesn’t touch them until all four humans are long gone, their voices lost to the base. After that, though? Each pastry is gone in one bite.

Danny makes himself invisible, wishes for darkness, and he rests.

*

There’s more food on the end of his cot when Danny wakes up the next morning.

Granola bars. Dried fruits.

…Oatmeal.

It takes forever and makes his back and tail ache like crazy, but Danny swaps his cot with one of the other little cots in this large, medical wing. His aura flares in the hopes that he’ll cut out cameras, but who knows if it will actually works.

Of course, it would work on another ghost, hopefully, and warn them to Stay Away! I’m mean! if they wandered into his territory. But otherwise, who knows? Maybe Danny’s too sick to actually be scary.

Danny sleeps behind a new curtain that night.

He doesn’t like that things that remind him of the container are chasing him.

*

The red human buzzzzes back into his old cot space the next day. When it sees that Danny is gone, it cries.

Danny carefully makes himself invisible. Just in case.

The human buzzzzzes away and doesn’t come back for a moment, until it does, bringing back one of the darker human-shaped blobs. One talks, and then the other, their voices as chattery and annoying as when birds get upset with other birds.

More whining. More noise.

Danny rolls over, puts the pillow over his head, and pretends he doesn’t exist.

He doesn’t hear any footsteps. He doesn’t see the curtain jiggle. Danny thinks he sees feet poking out from behind his curtain, just the once, but he doesn’t—

Something touches his invisible form. Danny flinches back into visibility, and—shit. Shit. Shit. They’re touching him. They’re touching him on purpose.

He tries to go intangible. The hands slip through him, but it’s not enough; they know he’s hiding here now, and now something is going to come get him.

A hand brushes his core. Danny whines.

The hand. Stops. Pulls back. Something— it’s flesh-colored and soft and is held out for Danny to investigate.

Brown-black tears plop out of Danny’s sockets without warning.

…Oh. It’s a band-aid.

It’s. It’s so simple in its familiarity. It’s soft. It’s rubbery between his fingers. The little paper peel. The—its—

…It’s probably fine. If. If they’re bringing him a band-aid.

  Everything still hurts, but the background ache is easiest to bear when he sleeps it off, hour after hour of praying his body knits itself back together. He tries not to think about the things he’s lost. The physical, tangible flesh he’s lost. The brain matter. The organs. The…hopefully he hasn’t lost a limb, but he has a feeling chancing a transformation to look isn’t going to go well for his overall health and wellbeing.

Danny’s core keens. He wants Frostbite. He wants Mom and Dad. He wants Jazz. He wants someone to put him into a safe bed with ice packs and to bring him soft foods and to lay beside his core and purr and he wants someone to take care of him.

He wants someone to take care of him.

Danny needs someone to take care of him so badly.

…Danny drops his intangibility. Some of his body becomes borderline corporeal, even. He has no idea what he looks like or how bad the damage is exactly, but he hears a muffled gasp and an acute intensification in the buzzing, sharp and high and scared.

That’s not a proud, smug response. That’s not a mean, gleeful response.

Okay.

Maybe…Maybe Danny is actually safe here. Maybe this won’t hurt too.

Danny doesn’t remember everything, but he does end his session slathered in clear cream, wrapped in cloth bandages as well as two young humans can manage, and with a band-aid stuck against some cavernous hole in his forehead.

He’s even awarded a blueberry muffin for his bravery.

(Good for him.)

[hijinxinprogress]

YJ being awful at sharing things (mostly bc they’re used to handling things themselves bc there was no one for them to depend on during their childhood)

YJ is great at subterfuge and lying but they keep unnecessary things on a need-to-know basis like their favorite colors so when people are like “why didn’t you tell me?? I can help! I hope you know you can come to me if you need anything” and yj responds like a stray animal being shown affection for the first time “with what?? nothing’s wrong…go away…” but they’re always injured or about to be whether it’s physical or psychological 

Cissie didn’t tell anyone she was allergic to walnuts until Oliver almost killed her at a mandatory family dinner (they also didn’t know she was in the Olympics or dating Kon until they were cornered by reporters in public who wanted to know if Kon was aware she had a relationship with Oliver Queen) (Roy had a very one sided beef with Kon for about three weeks once he saw the interviews)

Yj is outed for smoking when Bart gets caught with weed and the jl (mostly Barry) are lecturing him about the dangers of marijuana and Wally’s yelling bc they thought it was the titans smoking while bart just shrugs and he’s like “I thought you knew, it’s not like we were hiding it” they call a meeting w/ yj but Cissie’s just like “I mean what are you gonna do about it? You’re a couple years too late to be concerned” and behind them, an irritated Kon passes a handful of bills to a smug Anita

Or Tim’s been stabbed for the 5th time this week (and didn’t tell anyone bc he’s Tim) Cassie tries to hand him tequila and Bart looks at them like they’re stupid “he can’t drink that” and dicks in the background “no he can’t bc he’s literally a baby and so are all of you!!” and Anita reaches over to Kon who’s not paying attention and he’s like “yeah, rob got stabbed like an hour ago and didn’t say anything bc he’s a squirrelly little shit” and dick launches himself across the room holding 17 medical packs (he was supposed off planet for the next three months)

Diana hears yj refer to Cassie with they/them pronouns and pulls them aside to ask if they want to change their name (hero and civilian) and why they didn’t feel comfortable sharing their identity with her and Cassie just goes “I didn’t think it was a big deal”

Most people think that Anita’s raising her children so older heroes with make comments about her being too young to be a parent or being irresponsible for being a parent so young along with how it makes them unable to trust her judgment as a hero (Steph once made an offhanded comment about Anita being a real hero for raising twins after she cussed out an older hero) but no one outside of yj learns the truth until dr. fate shows up talking about irreparable damage being done to the timeline (the nearest speedster gets dirty looks despite not being at fault this time)

Yj invites Greta to the watchtower and she meets Constantine who starts going on about her being death-touched, possessed, and rambling about dark magic so he ends up calling the rest of jl dark which is how the jl finds out about Secret years after the fact

Kon casually makes jokes about Lex’s attempts on his life, Lex and Clark attempting to win him over to get one over on each other, Lex or Clark disliking him, his death, and the period of time Kon was homeless which is usually how anyone outside of yj finds out about things going on in his life

The jl loses their shit when they learn how often yj hide each other in their homes when they don’t have anywhere else to go (batman buys trackers in bulk when he finds out Tim has a secret house) 

[mylifeisfruk4ever]

"I am sorry. I'll try to do better."

“Start stopping calling me clone,” the boy said. "It's annoying."

“I will,” he promised. “But if we ever have another disagreement, don't fly away without telling me where you're going. “

“Don't be an idiot, and maybe I'll tell you where I'm going.”

“Hell yeah,” Jason laughed, and the other boy was smiling too.

“I see you've made some friends,” Clark tried to say.

“Did you think I couldn't do it?”

“No, um…”

“Well, not only have I made friends, but I have a bat of my own now. Fuck off.”

"Jason..." Bruce looked towards his son, knowing full well where Kon's new vocabulary came from. Jason just shrugged, not looking the least bit sorry. Clark instead said to Kon, "Ah, I'm glad you and Jason get along so well..."

“Jason? I was talking about Tim.”

“Who?”

“Um…me,” the other boy said, raising his hand shyly. “My name is Timothy…Tim Drake.”

READ MORE RAISING HEROES

[incorrectbatfam]

Which of the Batfamily is most likely to climb up buildings (or stairs or objects or other people) to get to talking level with a Meta that won't come down to them? [Damian is too obvious, but are there more?]

Clark: Nightwing, I need you to pass a message to Batman—

Dick: Wait a second.

Dick: *scales a skyscraper*

Dick: Alright, what is it?

———————

Jason: Look, Biz, for the last time—hang on.

Jason: *pulls out a step stool*

Jason: For the last time, Sonic isn't one of the Flashes.

———————

Selina: I just don't think flying counts as its own power when you have to cast a spell. It's just another extension of your magic.

Zatanna: Bold words for someone twenty feet below me.

Selina: Yeah, well, I bet you can't land on your feet every time.

———————

Tim, angrily: Look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you.

Kon: Make me.

Tim: *climbs two boxes, a ladder, and a tree to look Kon in the eyes*

———————

J'onn: You must be the Signal. Batman has told me a lot about you.

Duke: Hold up, this isn't really working.

J'onn: What?

Duke: *jumps onto a moving bus*

Duke, getting farther away: Go ahead, I'm listening.

———————

Kory: Oracle, can you access the recent Darkseid files?

Barbara: Let me just do this one thing first.

Barbara: *books a ticket to New York*

Barbara: *gets in an elevator*

Barbara: *goes to the top of the Empire State Building*

Barbara: Sure, I have it right here on my phone.

———————

Jon: Catch me if you can!

Damian: *shoots his grapple at Jon*

———————

Steph: I'm gonna go up there and do what Batman won't.

Hal: And what exactly is that?

Steph: *stands on a lamp post*

Steph: *slaps Hal*

———————

Bruce: Just in case Spoiler didn't get through to you...

Bruce: *climbs a fire escape*

Bruce: *slaps Hal*

———————

Kara: So what's the plan?

Bette: First order of business, we're getting lower ceilings so you can't keep doing THAT.

———————

Vic: *hovering*

Luke: *also hovering*

Vic: What are we doing?

Luke: *shrugs*

———————

Diana: *floating above everyone*

Helena: Anyone wanna challenge her?

Kate: Not it.

Harper: Not it.

Cullen: Not it.

Alfred: My sincerest apologies, Ms. Prince, I am unable to make it up there in my old age, let alone with a tray full of my signature chocolate chip cookies.

———————

Cass: That's not flying.

Arthur: No, but this water spout gives me great advantage.

Cass: *pulls out a straw*

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home: Chapter 2 Part 4

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

In this segment, Sam and Tucker join the chaos!

First, Previous

1.3k words

---------

As they walked to the burger joint, Danny would point out areas of damage and talk about the fight that caused it. Tim kept track of every comment and was already trying to think of methods to minimize it in the future.

His friends were eating the stories up. Bart especially had way too much fun asking about Danny’s crazy rogues. Skulker was his current favorite. “He wants your pelt?”

“I know, right? He’s so extra.” Then Danny pointed up ahead. “We’re almost there. You can see the building from here. And those two people are my friends.” Danny waved a hand in the air and two teens, one dressed all in black and the other in yellow, waved back.

Danny sped up and soon it was Tim’s turn to give introductions. “Hi! You must be Sam and Tucker. I’ve heard so much about you guys from Danny. These are my friends, Conner, Bart, and Cassie.”

Sam shook his hand. “From Gotham, right? I love the vibes there. What I wouldn’t do for a single good gargoyle in Amity.”

Tim laughed. “I think that’s the first time anyone’s ever said that to me. Most people try and say they’re sorry for me growing up there. As if Gotham isn’t my home.”

Tucker elbowed her. “That’s our resident goth for you. I’m the tech guy. I’d go just for a chance to check out Wayne Enterprises. The stuff they produce”—he held his hands to his chest—“I’d be in heaven.”

Conner grinned. “Well I’m sure Tim could pull a few strings to get you a tour, what with being Bruce Wayne’s foster kid and all.”

“Kon!” hissed Tim even as Tucker’s eyes lit up.

“Bruce Wayne is your foster dad? You must always get the newest tech. Can I see your phone? At least check out the specs? What I’ve heard of it is to die for! Wait, Danny, is that the phone you were working on? Is she as beautiful as they say?”

Danny groaned and rushed to slap a hand over Tucker’s mouth. “Licking my hand isn’t gonna work, Tuck! Quit gushing at my friend. Tim is interested in an ectobattery, so we’ll stop by your place before returning to my home to grab some for everyone. Then you can at least see the hardware. But you won’t be looking at the software. Capiche?”

Tim glared at Conner as Danny let go of Tucker’s mouth.

“Fine.” Tucker pouted even as he aquiesed.

Sam rolled her eyes. “Quit your fanboying, Tucker. It’s embarrassing.” Then she greeted everyone else. To Conner, she said, “Cool look. Are you actually punk or just taking the aesthetic?”

Conner’s eyes were wide and he looked over to Tim who just shrugged at him. “I— um, I don’t know. What does it mean to be actually punk?”

Sam grinned and opened her mouth, but before she could start talking, Tucker interrupted. “Let’s go in and order. I want my meat and you can continue this conversation inside.”

“Boys!" Sam threw her hands up in the air. "If you ate something besides meat, you’d have more stamina to keep up!”

Tim bit his lip to hold back a laugh. They really were just like Danny said.

Danny groaned. “Sam! Tuck! It’s fine. Lets go in and place our orders. Then you can lecture Conner all about counterculturalism and punk values.”

Conner looked between them all. “Wait, why am I getting a lecture?”

Tucker shook his head. “Dude, you’re the one who asked Sam about what makes someone punk. You’re not getting out of this one.”

Danny made a noise of agreement. “But don’t worry, Sam makes her lectures interesting at least. Enjoy being radicalized!”

Tim put his arm around Conner. “Let me know if you need to get out of it.”

As they made their way inside, Tucker moved so he was walking next to Cassie. “So, Cassie, right? Where are you from?” His voice was pitched low.

Wow, so Tucker really was as bad at flirting as Danny always said.

Cassie realized something was up, and her tone was wary as she answered, “Um, Gateway City. You ever been?”

Tim looked over his shoulder and raised and eyebrow at her, silently asking if she wanted him to intervene. She shook her head slightly and twitched a finger towards Bart who was on her other side.

“Hey!” called an unfamiliar voice. “Watch it, Fentina!”

Tim turned forward just in time to catch Danny who’d been shoved backwards by a boy as big as Conner.

“Really?” asked Danny. He squeezed Tim’s hand as he got his balance back. “What was that for?”

Tim took a step forward and made a show of sizing the boy up. “You must be Dash. Danny’s told me a lot about you.”

Dash sneered at him. “And who are you? Some other nerd?”

Conner stood taller at his side and he felt Cassie and Bart take up positions just behind him. Cassie was the one to snort and quip, “Nerd? What decade are you from? The eighties wants its insult back. Or was that a seventies thing?”

Tucker snickered. “Yeah, Dash. Nerds rule the world right now.”

“Well you don’t rule high school,” said Dash, crossing his arms.

An equally large Asian boy took position next to him. “Yeah, we’re in charge for now. So move it.”

Danny bristled next to him. “I wasn’t even in your way!”

Tim cleared his throat. “Dash Baxter, right? Oldest child of Zachary and Alice Baxter. Dog named Poo—” Danny slammed a hand over Tim’s mouth and he glared at his friend.

“Oh my god, Secrets! What have you done? I swear to god, if you keep going…”

Behind them, he heard Bart laugh and say, “And that’s Bingo for me!”

“Well, damn,” replied Conner. “And I was so close.” If he wasn’t so pissed off at Dash, he would’ve rolled his eyes at their antics. He was so not at risk of going evil.

Dash was staring at all of them, mouth open. “Who are you?”

So Tim spoke into the hand over his mouth as he glared back at Danny. “He deserves it.”

“Nope, don’t care.” To Dash, Danny said, “This is a friend of mine. He and his friends are visiting from out of town.”

But of course things couldn’t just be left at that. Tucker spoke up to add, “He’s Tim Drake. His foster dad is Bruce Wayne.”

Danny turned his glare on his friend. “Tucker,” he hissed.

“What?” the boy shot back. “It’s true!”

Dash snorted. “Right. I’m just supposed to believe you’re friends with a kid of the Bruce Wayne.”

“You don’t have to believe anything,” retorted Danny. “Just let us go order our food in peace. I’m just trying to have a fun evening with my friends.”

Dash glared at him again, but his eyes flicked to the rest of them, lingering especially long on Conner. “You’ll regret lying to us, losers. Come on, Kwan. I need a shower after touching the twink.”

Tim twisted out of Danny’s hand. “What the fuck did you just call him?”

But the two boys didn’t turn around as they stopped out of the restaurant and Danny gripped his bicep and Conner put a restraining arm around his shoulders.

“It’s fine, Tim,” said Danny. “You know they’re always like that.”

“Say the word, Polaris, and I’ll do it.”

But Danny just shook his head and started pulling him towards the counter. “Let’s just order our food and sit down so Sam can give Conner her lecture on what punk is.”

Tim clenched his teeth, but allowed himself to be pulled to the counter where they ordered an obscene amount of food thanks to the appetite of four metas. He insisted on using B’s card to pay for everyone.

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Next

This scene was a ton of fun to write. And Tim gets to meet Danny's bullies in person for the first time. He has several years of pent up frustration from the stories Danny shared.

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