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suzukiblu · 8 months

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Ko-fi thank-you sentences for Lux; Kon is too trans for this pregnancy shit. TW: internalized transphobia.

“I’m sorry,” Kon says, voice painfully tight and this close to cracking. “I didn’t–I was gonna–”

He was gonna . . . what, exactly? Tell Clark? Because actually, no, he really wasn’t. He was never going to.

He never would’ve, if he’d had the choice.

“Talk to me, Kon,” Clark says, gentling his grip on his wrist and stepping in closer. Kon feels nauseous. Feels weak and stupid and like the worst fucking person he could possibly be. Feels like a fake.

Like a liar.

He’s always, always been a liar. He was born one.

“I’m not a real guy,” he manages, digging his fingers into his arm. “I mean–Cadmus made me wrong. Like, they fucked up and I–I came out wrong. So I’m . . .”

“When you say not ‘real’ . . .” Clark trails off, just barely frowning. Kon ducks his head. Stares down at the blurry dirt. Doesn’t fucking cry, because he’s not that pathetic.

He’ll cry when Clark can’t see him being pathetic.

“I mean I’m trans,” he says. “I just–I’ve got, you know . . . I’m pre-op, or whatever. So I can still–so I’m pregnant.”

Does Clark even know what the fuck “pre-op” actually means? He’s a smart guy, he knows a lot of shit; he must, right? He’s got the eidetic memory thing going for him, if nothing else. And it’s, like . . . kind of intuitive anyway, right?

God, he doesn’t want to talk about this. He doesn’t want to have ever had to talk about this. Why does he have to talk about this?

“Okay,” Clark says, his own voice a little tight now. He doesn’t let go of Kon’s wrist. “Kon. That’s not–that doesn’t make you not a ‘real’ man. Not to anyone who matters. Certainly not to me.”

“I’m pregnant,” Kon says bitterly, choking on the words. “I didn’t–I’m not–I’m not a real man. I’m not–I’m just this fucking fucked-up idiot who can’t even use fucking birth control right!”

“I can take you to the Fortress. Get either prenatal care or an abortion set up for you. No one you don’t want to tell would have to know either way,” Clark says very, very gently, and alright, apparently Kon is going to be pathetic enough to cry in front of him, he realizes as his eyes start burning with definitely-not-heat-vision. “As far as I’m concerned you can stay up there ‘til they’re born, if you want. Just tell everyone they’re a binary clone too, or that I let you use the birthing matrix to make them.”

Kon is going to do a lot worse than just cry a little, actually.

He can’t even say anything to that offer. He just bursts into helpless, body-wracking sobs, and Clark wraps him up in his arms and tucks his face into his shoulder as he strokes his back.

Kon doesn’t know how he feels about the fact that both of the people he’s told about this so far have offered to lie for him about it.

Instead of getting mad at him for lying about it, he means.

#lux #wip: kon is too trans for this pregnancy shit #internalized transphobia #long post

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suzukiblu · 9 months

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Ko-fi thank-you sentences for Lux; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! I, uh, was only supposed to write nine sentences for this, buuuuut I didn't only write nine sentences for this. 😅 LOOK, I HIT A GROOVE, I'M NOT SORRY. Enjoy your read-more, y'all.

“Do you want some ideas for names?” Billy offers. Most kids don’t get to “legally” name themselves quite this way, so he feels like helping Superboy pick a good name is important. He wants him to have one he really likes. “I know a lot of them. Or we could look some up online? Batman got us a desktop and got you a laptop and a tablet, in case you need one for anything. Oh, and there’s phones, so we can keep in contact! I should grab you yours, actually, it’s . . . somewhere in the kitchen, I think.”

“‘Ideas’?” Superboy repeats, looking a little uncomfortable. “Like . . . what?”

“I just mean suggestions,” Billy promises, immediately distracted from the phone by Superboy’s apparent discomfort. The phone can wait. “You can pick any name you want, it’s up to you. I’m not gonna, like, veto you or anything.”

“. . . sure,” Superboy says. He still looks uncomfortable and Billy still can’t be sure he really means it, but . . . well, he just has to do his best, he guesses.

“You don’t have to decide right away, you can think it over for a bit,” he says. “But we at least need something to put on the paperwork. You can always change it later if you decide you don’t like it.”

“Whatever,” Superboy says, his mouth thinning. Billy thinks Cadmus was sort of terrible for not giving him a name. Actually, no, Cadmus was really terrible for that.

“How about I just list some, and if you like any of them, you can just say?” he suggests.

“Whatever,” Superboy repeats, looking away. Well . . . it’s not a “no”, at least, so Billy figures they can try, and if Superboy gets annoyed, they’ll just stop and try again later.

“Okay,” he says. “Um . . . let’s see, what are some good ones . . . David, Asher, Zachary, Parker, Otto, Levi . . . um . . .”

Superboy’s jaw tightens. Billy stops listing names and bites his tongue. Okay. The name thing is a sore spot, maybe. Or maybe Superboy just doesn’t like any of his suggestions and thinks he’s lame, he guesses. That might also be, like . . . a thing.

“I’ll try to think of some more later,” Billy says, repressing a guilty wince and grasping desperately for a new topic. “Do you, uh . . . have any questions? Or anything like that?”

Probably he should’ve asked that sooner, come to think.

"How often are you gonna be here?" Superboy asks, still looking away. Billy can’t really read what he can see of his face very well, but hopefully once they know each other better he'll get better at that kind of thing. Like, he’ll have to, right?

"Oh, like–pretty much whenever I'm not doing hero stuff or on any League missions," he says. "I'll make sure and tell you if I'm ever gonna be gone overnight or anything like that, okay?"

Superboy . . . blinks. Looks back at him.

"You're going to live here?" he asks in confusion. Billy blinks too, tilting his head.

"Yeah," he says. "I mean, it wouldn't be very nice of me to just ditch you here all by yourself, would it?"

"I can take care of myself," Superboy says, his expression shuttering. Billy frowns.

"Well, sure, but that doesn't mean anybody's gonna make you," he says. Just because Superboy’s physically old enough to take care of himself doesn’t mean he’s not technically still a baby. He deserves to get taken care of and have somebody help him figure out, like . . . everything, pretty much. Civilian life and superhero stuff both.

That’s why Billy’s doing this, so . . . yeah.

“Why?” Superboy says.

“Because that’d be really mean,” Billy says. “And we’re the good guys, so we have to be the good guys.”

Superboy’s jaw tightens again, and then he folds his arms and looks away again too. He looks upset. Billy wishes he knew how to fix it. Like–even just a little bit. He knows sometimes that stuff just doesn’t “fix”, but . . . still. He’s trying to be a good dad here, so he feels like he should fix things like Superboy being upset.

Well–he guesses just letting him work through being upset is okay too, if it comes to it. For when things aren’t that easy to get distracted from. Billy would also have a lot to be upset about if he’d been made in a lab and told he was supposed to be somebody he’s not and gotten mind-controlled the first time he’d ever woken up for real. Like, that’s a really shit first day.

Superboy must feel really weird, too. Cadmus probably didn’t really teach him how to be a kid or a teenager, since they were trying to make an adult Superman, so it’s no wonder he thinks they’re gonna make him take care of himself. Billy’s gonna have to help him learn how being a kid works, he’s pretty sure.

Well, he can do that. And, well, Superboy’s friends can cover the “teenager” stuff, he guesses. Like, probably.

. . . maybe he could find a couple parenting books or something. A parenting book might be a good idea.

"I just don't get it," Superboy says after a long moment staring at the wall, tensing his folded arms. "What about when you have to get back to your real life? Like your . . . your job and your house and your . . . family. This is keeping you away from all that."

"Oh," Billy realizes, blinking at him in surprise. He guesses Superboy probably would expect him to have that kinda stuff, huh. "No, I don't really . . . have any of those, technically? I mean, I am human, I wasn't lying or anything, I just don't have a job or another house or anything like that. Actually the Justice League is paying for all of this, 'cause we were all talking about the best place for you to live and Superman asked if maybe I could take care of you, and I had to tell him I couldn't 'cause I didn't actually have anything to take care of you with, but Batman said the League could set up a stipend to pay for stuff and help me get a place and all that if I wanted to do it, sooooo . . ."

". . . Superman asked you to take care of me?" Superboy asks hesitantly, shifting in his bean bag and finally glancing back to him again.

"Yeah," Billy confirms with a nod, a little relieved that Superboy’s looking at him again. Well–close to him, anyway. He’s not quite making eye contact, but that’s fine. "Well, him and Batman. Because my powers are kinda close to yours so I can help you train and stuff, but also Kryptonians are vulnerable to magic so if you've got any mind control triggers in your head that we missed I should be able to stop you without having to hurt you. Like I could restrain you until we could help you or until you could snap out of it on your own, I mean."

"Oh," Superboy says, blinking slowly. "I just figured somebody had some kryptonite somewhere in case something like that happened."

"No," Billy says, frowning at the thought. Geez, what kind of an awful dad would he be if he did that? He's seen what kryptonite does to Superman and it totally sucks. "Kryptonite hurts. I'm not gonna let anybody use kryptonite on you. Er–well, probably eventually a bad guy will when you're on a mission, that's kind of how those go, but we're definitely not gonna keep any here.”

"Why not?" Superboy asks, frowning back at him. "It's more efficient than actually fighting me. And I might injure you if I'm like that."

"Yeah," Billy says. "But also somebody bad could use it against you if they ever broke in and found it. And this is, um–well. This is your home now, so I don't think there should be things that could hurt you in it anyway."

Superboy stares blankly at him again. Billy tries not to fidget.

"There were lots of things that could hurt me in Cadmus," Superboy says, his face staying very, very blank in a way that Billy immediately hates.

"Well, this isn't Cadmus," Billy says firmly, trying to look as sincere and trustworthy and dad-ly as he knows how to. He had a really, really great dad. He can pay that forward. Superboy deserves a great dad too. "I'm taking care of you now, and I don't want kryptonite or anything like it around you. Ever."

Superboy stares at him. His expression is really complicated-looking and Billy doesn't understand it, so he just keeps trying to look as dad-ly as possible. Hopefully that'll help, or at least won't hurt.

". . . what about your family, though?" Superboy asks after a long moment, flicking his eyes away uncomfortably. Billy really hopes he's doing this right. "Or do you, uh, not have one of those either?"

"Um," Billy says. "Well, I have the worst uncle in the world who I really hope is rotting in prison somewhere by now, but otherwise it's just you."

"What?" Superboy frowns again, looking confused. "What's just me?"

"Uh . . . my family?" Billy replies, a little embarrassed. He hasn't actually had any family that he could still want to be around in . . . well, a really long time now, so it feels sort of weird to say it, but it is true. Dubiously-legally true, given all the fake paperwork Batman’s been putting together, but still true.

Superboy gives him the blank stare yet again. Billy feels like a moron, but–well, he's not gonna take it back. Even if Superboy thinks he's presuming too much too quick or something, which admittedly he kinda is, Billy also can't imagine how awful it'd be hearing someone call you their family and then say they weren't really or hadn't actually meant it or just . . . whatever.

Superboy might not even care if he did, but . . .

Well. Billy would care. So he's not gonna.

Ever.

#rinfic #lux #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!

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