#tim told kon he cloned him to try and bring him back and kon was like

[somepinkthing]

Kon and tim will never be allowed to be together because tim is a certified grade A freak wrapped in the strongest autistic rizz I've ever seen and kon is way too much of a "standing by my pookie" type of guy to safely handle all that. Like, beyond a shadow of a doubt, kon can handle tim's freak without breaking a sweat—the issue is what they would become if allowed to dedicate that energy to each other. Like kon does not care to reel that in at all. The safety in question here is the safety of other ppl

[mamawasatesttube]

for the ficlet thing: “You're still asleep, aren't you?" (w timkon,,,yeah) :3

Muted blue-white light from the TV washes over the living room, paints the walls in dull grey as it flickers across Kon's face. Tim's head is a warm weight on his shoulder, his hair tickling slightly against Kon's neck. He dozed off a few minutes ago, breathing soft and slow as rain pelts the side of the farmhouse; it's not even late yet, but Kon knows Tim's been through a lot lately. It's good he's resting.

But he'd rest even better if they just turn off the TV and head up to bed, so. Kon could just carry him, but...

Lightning flashes outside; thunder rumbles in the distance as the house creaks in the wind. Kon stares at the window and swallows, hard.

Tim wouldn't just doze off on anyone's shoulder. Even as Robin, he preferred to curl up in weird little secluded spots, though he definitely fell asleep on Kon or Cassie a good few times. But he's gotten more guarded during the year Kon was, uh, dead, pulling into himself, pushing even Cassie away. And yet, here he is, snoozing away against Kon.

Something tightens in Kon's chest. He's been thinking a lot, lately. There's words that've been dancing on the tip of his tongue for months now, words he's kept swallowing down. Maybe he ought to finally take the plunge. Tonight feels cozy and safe, like the storm's cut them off from the outside world and all its perils and fears, and Tim is so trusting, so vulnerable in his sleep.

Kon takes a breath. Swallows hard. Breathes out.

"Hey, Rob." He gently nudges Tim, squeezes his shoulder. Fantasizes, for a moment, about skimming his hand down to the side of Tim's waist, but holds back. "You wanna call it and head up to bed?"

"Mmnh?" Tim's voice is so much softer than usual when he's sleepy. His eyelashes brush Kon's collarbone as he blinks. "Nnh, 'm awake..."

Kon's heart flip-flops in his chest. He chews at his lip. Lightning flashes in the window again, lighting up acres of farmland in a brilliant flash. Tim's hair smells like Kon's shampoo.

The words bubble up in Kon's chest and rise up his throat, and suddenly he knows if he doesn't say them now, he'll never say them at all. His heart thunders in his throat.

"Rob, I've, uh... I've been wondering something."

Tim hums against his shoulder. His fingers twitch slightly against the side of Kon's knee. "Mm?"

You don't touch most people like this, Kon wants to say. I don't let most people touch me like this. I've always been so conscious of how people see me, here in Smallville. I never knew who "Conner Kent" was before. But I never worry about any of that when you're with me. Why? What do you do to me? Do you even know you're doing it?

He doesn't say any of that. Instead, he chews at his lower lip again, staring at the TV. It's a rerun of some oldies show; Ma likes to watch 'em in the evenings sometimes.

"Before Cassie 'n' I broke up, we... talked about some stuff," Kon says haltingly. Maybe he should've taken a page outta Tim's book, written this all out before he tried to say any of it. "About, y'know. Us. What all happened while I was... gone." He can't bring himself to say dead, not to Tim.

Tim's quiet. He isn't stupid; he probably knows where Kon is going with this. He knows Kon knows there's an ocean of unspoken things between them, these days, things they both know but haven't managed to put into words. Things like why Tim tried to clone him a hundred times. Like the new colors on the Robin uniform in all the photos Kon saw from before Tim took on his new mantle. Things like...

"You and her dated for a second," Kon says, quiet. Maybe he's finally trying to cross that ocean. "She told me that she was trying to use you to see me. But that... that makes me wonder, Rob. If Cass was trying to kiss me through you, then..."

His heart is in his throat; his blood roars in his ears.

"Then what were you thinking, when you were kissing her?"

The question hangs in the air. Tim's silence is louder than the thunderstorm raging outside.

Kon stares straight ahead, suddenly terrified. Maybe he's wrong. Maybe he got it all backwards, and Tim really did just have feelings for Cassie he never acted on until Kon was out of the way, and his guilt for it was behind his intense grief for Kon. Maybe he—

Tim snores softly.

The tension pops like a bubble. Kon looks down, incredulous. "Right. Of course. You're still asleep, aren't you?" he mutters, more to himself than to Tim. He doesn't know if he's disappointed or relieved. Honestly, it's on him; he should've known better than to try and actually talk about any of it while Tim's so sleepy. He just... it just felt...

Well, it doesn't matter now. Kon blows out a deep sigh, TTKs over the TV remote, and turns it off.

"Mmph?" In the sudden quiet, Tim shifts against his side. "I'm awake, I swear..." He yawns, covering his mouth with a hand, and then lifts his head to blink blearily up at Kon. "Sorry. What were you sayin'?"

Kon shakes his head with a rueful smile. "Nothing important," he says, and ruffles Tim's hair. "C'mon. Let's get you to bed."

[lacrimosathedark]

Hello. I love Conner Kent and have compiled pretty much every time Conner and Tim have had any kind of intimacy since he was brought back to canon.

Let’s go in order!

Young Justice 2019 (not to be confused with the OG)

For the record, this is pre-bisexual-realization Tim. tbh I’ve been thinking about just how bitter Tim sounds here despite still being oblivious to how freaking gay he is. Like, seriously “Whatever dumb thing or person makes him happy makes me happy.” Like, why they gotta be dumb, Timbo? While not anywhere near as weird, it also feels very strong for Tim to say with his whole-ass chest “he’s my best friend and I love him” solely given how recently he recovered those memories.  But if they had resolidified into him by that point, it’s not too strange. Stronger things have been said about them and by them.

Conner goes right for Tim. (In fairness, Cassie’s already got him and Bart isn’t in the room yet, but still)

(Also please join me in desperately trying to ignore the Drake outfit for the next few images because Yikes)

Conner was being such a Mom to Bart before this that this just reminds me of when they started Young Justice and he made a comment about how Bart would be a handful for other heroes or parents and Tim just gave him a Look and he was like “Oh, no! I am NOT the mom!” Sure, Jan.

More cute Bart, but it’s just...the thought. Bart knew Tim would want to see pics of Kon punching Luthor in the face and I love that for them.

I couldn’t not include the subsequent hug. THEY’RE SO FRICKIN CUTE.

That’s about it for Young Justice (and thankfully Drake). Next is the Tim Drake Pride Special, most of which is also in Batman: Urban Legends. Though Conner is only in Urban Legends for this one hot sec.

Kon doesn’t end up helping with Bernard because Tim is a stubborn dumbass with a habit for self-sabotage. But he saves the day and gets the boy anyway.

(For the record, I am endgame TimKon 100%, but Tim and Bernard are also very cute together and I’m so excited to see more of them! Honestly, read the new Tim Drake: Robin comics they are so flippin cute and we get to see Bernard being a ridiculous conspiracy theorist like he was on New Earth and it’s actually pretty funny and so cute UGH)

Then this is I think exclusive to the Pride Special, and we are post Bisexual Awakening.

So many people loved this page. Including me. But this part of the special was more about getting Tim to talk to Stephanie again. Because he’s an awkward loser who is trying to find himself and will occasionally just distance himself from people to do so. Despite generally being self aware and knowing better.

Anywho, the following is from Dark Crisis: Young Justice. Which isn’t too bad, but sometimes feels a bit wonky, especially with the girls. But it’s not totally out of character, especially given the Fresh Trauma, and it gets in the boys’ heads. And there’s...A Lot.

This is...well, these are Cassie’s thoughts. The plot hole made here, “Conner never find[ing] out” which shouldn’t be true because both Cassie AND Tim told him about this, is hand waved later because the whole thing with Rebirth is everyone’s memories are Fucked. I mean, Kon and Bart should have not been included in that because they were “off-world” when the N52 reboot happened which is the explanation for the 90s/2000s versions to come back basically as they had been, but y’know. Comics.

But anyway, this is bringing up, in case you live under a rock and were unaware, the time when Kon died and Cassie and Tim started dating for a hot second almost entirely because of their shared grief over Kon. Cassie had literally been in a Superboy cult and Tim was in the desperate process of trying to clone him.

You know. Fun times.

Dark Crisis actually has a lot of Kon@Tim stuff. I mean, plenty of the mutual affection still, but Kon is very focused on Tim, whereas Tim is trying to be more logical and, funny enough, listening to Bart.

Everyone forgets Bart is Super Smart, in part because he’s actually naturally clever but has a goober personality, but also because part of his trauma response to getting his kneecap blow off and having to have surgery done with little to no anesthetic because his metabolism burned that shit right out, he literally consumed an entire library. Like, read every single book there at super speed. Boy Knows Things. Plus he’s experienced to much more trauma since then, he’s become a quick thinker (pun always intended).

But you’re not here for my Bartholomew Is Great lecture, you’re here for TimKon!

Coffee Boy Confirmed

Oh, Tim...

All three of them go flying out of a car and Kon grabs Tim, but fuck Bart I guess? Bart brings this up later but it’s still frustrating. Sure, Tim and Kon are besties, but they love Bart. He’s not a third wheel in their friendship. He’s part of it. Just...sigh.

I love “You know I can run, right?” This is just a little glimpse into while Kon’s brain seems almost exclusively reserved for self pity and Tim, and Tim is still very much more focused on Conner, Tim is still paying attention to Bart (even if he doesn’t feel like it). Tim didn’t need to grab Bart at all, but why not?

Again, Kon brushing Bart off entirely, and Tim acknowledging Bart’s point but still showing preference to Kon.

Tim is So Done with these two and it’s so funny.

Also want to note, “process this with Babs later”. Is Babs acting as his therapist? I think she has the training, or at least a degree in psychology? That would actually be kinda sweet.

This seems so much more “ow my heart” out of context...the context is, Kon is being a dick to Bart. Tim ultimately disagrees with Conner, but not enough for Bart to not storm off, as seen below.

For the record, that’s not Cassie. Which is pretty obvious from the jump. But even here...yikes.

This stunned look (which is oddly glassy-eyed and unnerving tbh...) is in direct contrast to his calm understanding when Cassie actually told him, and then when Tim tried to talk to him about it. He was initially like “that’s kinda fucked up, but I get it and I forgive you”. Which...honestly sounds super big and sweet, but he also had pretty much the same reaction to “I was in a Superboy revival cult” and “I tried to clone you 90+ times and considered tossing you in a Lazarus Pit” so...

What I’m saying is Kon, in true Kent fashion, is a himbo.

But this could set off so many trains of thought here. Cassie told him it was out of grief that she did it--Tim never gets to explain his side. But what if it was a grief reaction for Tim? (It was.) Does that mean he was projecting his feelings for Conner onto Cassie? (Probably.) Tim knows he likes boys now, does that mean he liked Conner? (Likely.) Either way, what does Kon do with this?

Okay, this isn’t TimKon, but these boys are so fucking funny. Have I mentioned that I love Tim Drake? Because I love him. (Also reminds me of the time when Bart’s head was fucked up and he thought he was Batman...look, the 90s were weird, okay?)

They just had a fight and Tim’s first move is to stabilize and comfort Conner. Just....aaaaaaaaaaaa

And then we get to the fourth issue...which is probably my favorite because we’re finally in Conner’s head! We’ve been bopping between Bart and Tim until now (and also Cassie and Cissie elsewhere), but nearly this whole comic is Kon’s POV and it’s both hilarious and a little heartbreaking. I...I love him. He is my Favorite.

So, they’re being attacked by a whole fake Justice League and Titans (I see Roy and Kory and Kyle and Donna and--) and Big Bad is fucking with the sound waves. Until Conner is like, “Okay, but what if we didn’t?”

He’s the one who’s been trying to convince the other two that this fake world is okay, that it’s better and they should stay, despite things being noticeably Off, and despite the distinct lack of Jon, Damian, and Wallace. (As far as I know, Bart doesn’t know Wallace too well, but Kon and Jon at least met and got on okay, and Tim and Damian are...well, they’re at a point in their relationship of begrudging respect and affectionate verbal violence rather than, y’know, actual violence). Bart wants to GTFO, and Tim was wishy-washy at first, but at this point is firmly with Bart and wants out. I mean, he started getting Bad Vibes when Fake Batman said him wanting to date Bernard over Stephanie was “just a phase”. I didn’t include that image despite loving it, but Tim’s internal thoughts are, verbatim, “@#$&#&* what?” which can, I would guess, be translated to, “Fucking what?” Tim is very curse-y in this series.

But I’m getting sidetracked. Kon wants to stay, the others want out, and Kon throws a bitch fit.

“The man was too stunned to speak”

Poor Bart, figuratively and literally carrying this fucking team.

Here we go.

Hey. Hey, Conner. Buddy. What the fuck does that mean, man?

I cannot begin to tell you the number of ways this page hurts me. Just...all three of them are so fed up with everything and aaaaaaaaa

And then Bart rightfully goes off.

Like, that’s not quite true, but it sure do be feeling that way right now. And while even in this post I’ve shown just how much both of them can care and pay attention to Bart, they have always been more focused on each other. At first it was because Tim was secretive and Kon thought he had a stick up his ass meanwhile Conner was new to the world and being actively manipulated by people. And then it’s because they’re best friends. Like, heterosexual life partners levels of best friends. Platonic (or not-so-platonic) soulmates levels of best friends. They both consider Bart their best friend too, but they hold each other above pretty much everyone else. Which, after they’ve all lost some footholds in reality with their seniors missing, those small slights feel more pointed and are getting to Bart a lot more. He’s hurting and Tim’s the only one listening, but Tim is favoring Kon and it’s driving him up the wall. All that frustration and resentment come to a head. Hopefully to be resolved.

I’ve made this a Young Justice Boys post instead of just a TimKon post, but I regret nothing!

For the sake of my image limit I haven’t given everything I love about this issue, but even if you don’t read the rest (which is fair, it gives some people Bad Vibes at the start) please read this issue. Conner’s inner monologue is so stupid and so funny and I love him so much.

But anywhozits, proceeding!

I want it noted that Bart was attacked right before this and is held on the ground but Conner immediately goes for Tim. Unbelievable.

(I refuse to crop out Bart when he’s funny)

I’m, uh, not a fan of Superboy’s face here, but y’know, more him focused on Tim. While Bart is in a similar predicament.

He finally mentions Bart...after he seems to have nearly been able to save himself.

(Yes, the bad guy’s name is Mickey. Yes it’s awful, but that’s the point. I think.)

Now, here’s a big point for me, so I’m breaking down the page.

Mickey-boy conjures up images of new and revised characters (ex. Jon Kent and Harley Quinn) and Tim sees

And the next panel?

He sees Tim looking at the image of his boyfriend...and he changes his tune.

And they they all go off on a speech that’s touching in context but incredibly cheesey out of it. Also a bit obnoxiously meta, but so is this whole storyline.

“What are you gonna do about it, Conner Kent?” I don’t know why that gets me so much but it does.

That’s all for now. Last DCYJ comes out November 15 and I’ll probably edit this post at that point to add what’s in there but I’m impatient and made this whole thing and I need people to love and appreciate these boys.

[squishneedsahero]

Motherly Instinct

Awesomest of Them All 2.0 | One-Shots

Part 8.5 of 13

Word Count: 1541

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a bonus part that I’ve just thrown in cause I felt like it and I have other ideas for the series <3

Some shit had been going down with the Justice League, you had no idea what exactly it was but you hadn't seen your husband in at least a week. Needless to say you were tired of not seeing him and your two sons. So, you decided to do something about it. Something you hadn't done before now.

You walk down to the cave, after warning Alfred you were leaving, and find the suit Bruce had gotten made for you in case of an emergency. For you this qualified as an emergency. You put the mask over your eyes and prepare to head up to the watchtower. One way or another you're going to drag your family home for some rest.

Bruce didn't trust every member of the League to know who he was even if he trusted them to protect the world. It was a bit paranoid but you'd deal with it and wear the mask if it meant you could drag him home. You step up to the teleport and announce the number you were assigned then step in and when you step out you're in space.

Not exactly in space but being in the watchtower was close enough. You take a look around, seeing no one you recognize you approach someone in a green suit and ask, "excuse me, do you know where I could find Batman?"

"Of course I do beautiful, I'll show you the way," the man says, obviously he's a flirt. "The names Hal by the way, and I can call you?"

You decide to bs something on the spot, and say, "just call me SH/N." From there you follow alongside him as he leads you to wherever it is Bruce is located.

"So, why are you looking for the grumpy bat? You know he's quite boring, I'm sure the two of us could have much more fun."

He clearly has no idea who you are and you can only hope this walk won't be long. You go ahead and have a little fun with your response anyways, "yeah? What makes you so sure about that?"

"Well, he's Batman, all dark and brooding I've never seen the guy smile. Just don't tell him I told you that," Hal responds.

You can't help but laugh, "of course I'd never tell him that."

Hal opens up a door and waves his arm, letting you in. "Hey Bats, this beauty is looking for you, though why she's here to see you I have no idea."

Bruce had been standing there talking with Clark and Diana about something. He doesn't respond in any way to the sight of you besides a slight nod, but you can tell that Hal's flirting has already hit a nerve. You let the slightest smirk cross your lips and you pat Hal's arm saying, "thank you for the help," before walking across the room to your husband.

First thing you do is kiss his cheek and say, "hello love." You tilt your head and cast a side glance at Hal, seeing the color somewhat drain from his face. You wrap your arms around Bruce's neck.

His arms come to rest around your waist as the door closes behind Hal as he leaves. "What are you doing here dear?"

"I haven't seen you in over a week so I'm here to drag you home." You let go of him long enough to take the mask off since it was already bothering you, "also don't kill Hal I think I scared him enough," you laugh.

Bruce sighs, "I can't come home there's... a situation we need to figure out first."

You roll your eyes, "okay, what is the situation because I'm not going home until you and the boys can come home with me." You can tell that Bruce is just goi g to argue so you turn to Diana and ask, "what's going on?"

Diana quickly explains that a clone of Clark, a teenager, had been found and they were trying to figure out what to do with him. The fact that they were still trying to figure it out told you more than enough and you turn to face Clark.

"So, should I ask why it is you aren't taking him in?"

"He was created by Luther and is most likely a threat," Clark states simply.

"So?" You ask. "He's a kid." Clark doesn't have a good answer to that so you turn back and look at Bruce for a moment. "You go get the boys and tell them it's time to go home?"

Bruce agrees to go find Dick and Tim, taking Diana with him and leaving you there with Clark. "Hey, y/n, with Lois and Jon I can't risk their safety by bringing a  strange clone into my house." The large alien tries to defend himself.

"That's not a good enough reason. It's understandable but not a good reason. You're there and can protect your family if anything goes wrong, this boy is a child who was probably raised in a lab. Abandoning him is the stupidest idea I've heard in a long time," you cross your arms.

Somehow Clark found you scarier than Bruce was. No wonder Bruce didn't argue when you told him to go find your kids. He once again doesn't have a good answer. "So, you don't have a good response so that usually means I am right. You should talk to Lois about this before deciding anything but for now I'm going to have the kid come stay with us."

The two of you stand in an awkward silence as you wait for Bruce to come back since you don't know how to get back to where you'd started. When they finally come you put your arms around your boys and press a kiss to the top of each of their heads, "we have one more thing before we can go."

You look at your husband and the boys look between the two of you. You smile at them, "we're going to have someone staying with us for the foreseeable future." They all understand what you're saying and go get the superboy and you take him home to the mansion with you.

Once you're home you send everyone to bed and you take care of the boy. You introduce yourself to him and ask if he has a name.

"A- name?" He asks with a pause, obviously thinking about it.

"It's alright if you don't have one, we can come up with something for you." You offer him a kind smile. "So, here's the deal, I'm going to take you upstairs and give you a room to stay in rather than leaving you down here because my husband is paranoid. You'll get to see who we are and in return you'll eat some food and get some sleep, alright?"

"Okay," he says with a little hesitation before you lead him upstairs. You take him to the kitchen where the two of you get some food, quickly being caught by the rest of your family.

Bruce gives you a look upon seeing that you'd brought him upstairs, which you return but just say, "hello Love, he's going to be staying with us so I brought him upstairs to get some food. I figured he can stay in a spare bedroom because we have plenty of room."

Bruce nods slightly, "alright." He looks between you, Alfred, Dick and Tim before turning back to the boy, "so, I'm afraid I forgot to ask your name," he says, putting up with you and your mom instinct.

You jump in, saving the kid from another awkward answer and say, "we were just thinking about a name he'd like. Maybe all of you could help us come up with some ideas."

Alfred makes sure everyone is fed and you try to make sure the kid feels welcomed. He's a little awkward and doesn't talk much but he's polite, eventually you fin a name he likes, Kon-El, and then if needed he could go by Conner. You make sure that he gets to bed before going to face your husband.

You sit on the bed next to him, and face him, "okay, go ahead, let me hear it for letting him in our house."

He sighs and shakes his head slightly, "it was reckless to just let him in and see who we are." He puts his arms around you and pulls you to him, "I love you, and can't exactly be mad at you for making the call on this one when I've done it the other times." He presses a kiss to your temple, "I trust you and your instincts, so it will be fine no matter what happens."

You lean into his chest and smile softly, "thank you, I love you." You tilt your head to press a kiss to his jaw, "he needs someone to take care of him, I don't care where he came from but I'm going to make sure he has a home."

Bruce presses another kiss to your head and pulls you onto the bed with him, tucking the both of you into the covers and holding you tightly to him as he finally gets some reset.

[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. 

[anothertimdrakestan]

A Lovely Intervention  -  Damian Wayne x Jon Kent & Tim Drake x Conner Kent

Words: 2.3k

Requested? Yes! From a lovely anon!

“Can you make a fic out your short where Damian is taking after his brothers? Maybe like an intervention or something? I love your shorts I basically binged them😁😁”

LINK TO PROMPTS  -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

I LOVE THIS! TimKon is my everything and we love Damian and Jon secretly taking after their brothers and it turning into a whole family moment. This req made me soft, thank you so so so much and I’m glad you like my shorts hehehe 💓 Hope you enjoy!

“We gotta talk get here asap.” Dick called his family, needing to investigate the current problem.

“I’m bringing Kon if you’re interrupting my day” Tim buzzed in, and Dick smiled, everything was going exactly to plan. “Yeah Red that’s fine, I want him here anyways” Dick replied, hearing the whoosh of Tim and Conner take off towards their rondevu point.

“Kay gang’s all here except the demon, you hiding him here somewhere?” Jason mocked, eliciting a harsh look from Dick.

“No, this meeting is actually about him, or about us. Have you guys noticed Damian and Jon trying to imitate us recently?” A lightbulb went off for Conner as he stole the floor, recollecting his most recent interaction with the boys.

“Oh my god yea, wait get this: I’m at the farm gettin’ work done so I could hang with Timmy - don’t blush babe everyone knew we were out together - yeah, then I see Damian tearing across the field with one of Ma’s horses. And I’m like ‘Hey Punk! She isn’t yours!’ and the kid gives me this shitty little smirk like he knows something, and he keeps going! Then he has the balls to flip me off! In my house?!?” Kon was waving his hands around trying to get the point across. “Is this gonna go anywhere airhead?” Jason interrupted, and Tim grabbed Conner’s hand, pulling him down back onto the ground after he began floating with anger.

“Shh babe lemme finish I was there too” Dick looked taken aback “TIM YOU SPENT THE NIGHT AT CONNORS? YOU TOLD BRUCE YOU WERE WITH THE TITANS” Tim quickly blushed and kept talking “Well yeah, but that’s not the point! I was watching Damian cuz he wanted to go over and ‘watch the stars’ which seems lame but the kid’s messed up enough maybe he needs some star gazing” Jason rolled his eyes, tapping his wrist to hurry his younger brother up. "Shit I took Kori star gazing a few weeks ago!" Dick mumbled before Tim got back to explaining.

“Sorry, sorry, so I wake up before Kon and go down and Jon is showing Damian pictures of all his pets then he ruffles Damian’s hair [ Dick audibly gasps ] yeah I fucking know, he let him touch him. Then it gets worse. Jon was wearing your jacket Kon. With the fucking spikes. The. Spikes. And Damian complimented him like I always do like he said ‘looking sharp Kent’ and that’s literally my line. So I have to do some recon but you’re right Dick, the kid’s a robot or something, not the demon” Kon nodded, finishing his story right after Tim “Oh my you’re right, Jon told me that he wanted to give Damian something to cement his feelings, like how I give you some of my clothes and souvenirs babe, except he gave the punk a whole ass horse!”

Dick realized it was getting worse that he thought. “This is good info guys, Tim I don’t think Damian is a robot but I think he’s taking after us, remember when I caught you trying on my Nightwing outfit? Jay you did it too, do I need to remind you about the Robin suit? And Kon you know what it’s like” The three boys shifted, uncomfortable with being called out by Dick.

“Alright so what do we do? Jump off a bridge and see if the demon follows? Kid doesn’t take after me so I don’t know why this is a problem?” Jason crossed his arms, still a little hurt by the robin reference. “Shut up Jay you’re with Tim running interference while Conner and I take the lead” Dick looked at the group explaining his plan. “Conner you’re talking to Jon about being himself, don’t roll your eyes they’re teens they need shaping in the right direction, it’s the least we can do. I mean look how well Jason turned out, you don’t want that happening to Jon!” Conner nodded, glancing at Jason who was openly scowling at the group. “Shut up Jay you’ve got the easy job unless you rather take mine and try to talk to Damian about his feelings. That’s where you guys come in, if Damian tries to make a break for it you’re security.” Tim and Jason high fived, excited at the possibility of having to cage a demon.

“So, plan A is the civil plan, plan B is caging the bird and then trying to be civil what happens if plan B fails?” Tim was well aware there were odds Damian wouldn’t want to hear it. Dick sighed, “well, plan C is disgusting Jon and Dami with Kon’s sappiness” and Kon cheered. “Plan C it is!” And it was time to set the plan (s) in motion.

“Dami look! I’m like a bat!” Damian tried to suppress a smile as Jon grinned, hanging upside down on the tree he’d climbed. “C’mon I can see that smile come hang with me!” Jon cooed and Damian easily scrambled up the tree, sitting on one of the limbs with his back against the trunk. “TT Kent I’m Robin not Batman, besides shouldn’t I be trying to impersonate your father?” he joked, tracing an S on his chest.

In a flash, Jon was pulled from the tree by his big brother. Damian jumped up, not sure what had taken Jon. “At ease soldier, it’s just Kon!” Tim walked up to the base of the tree, gesturing Damian down. Sliding down the tree Damian mumbled “your Kent stole my Kent” and Tim nudged him “so you’ve staked a claim huh?” and Damian blushed, looking down and walking towards the house. “Dames Dickwing needs you for something I think he’s waiting outside. “And you’re not coming? Gonna spend another night with Conner, who is your excuse this time?” Damian sneered as it was now Tim’s turn to flush with red. “Hey you wanted to go too! Don’t pretend like you didn’t hold Jon’s hand on the way over” Damian didn’t turn around, flipping Tim off as he raced toward’s Dick’s car.

“What’s with the super-snatching?” Jon huffed while Conner set him down on top of the family barn, the view of their home from on top of the barn was a favorite spot of theirs. “Well, uh, I’m never good at these but I’ve noticed you and Dames getting really close, and that’s really cool ya know”

Jon gagged and tried to begin climbing down from the roof, “oh god Kon no. I don’t want whatever talk you’re trying to give me. You really? Aren’t you already with a bat yourself?” Kon snorted “so you admit you wanna be with the bat?” and Jon huffed, sitting down again. “Maybe a little bit - what does it mean to you!” Jon refused to make eye contact with Conner. “Kid nothing’s wrong! But if you are I just wanted to give some advice, one SuperBat to another!” Jon shook his head at the cringeworthy ship name but eventually gave him attention back to Kon.

“What I’ve learned is that each of those boys is their own person, and so are we. And you know how hard that was for me to learn especially! So, I guess we’ve noticed you kinda trying to act like me and Tim but I just wanted to tell you that Damian isn’t Tim and you aren’t me, you gotta make your own path bro” Kon nudged Jon as he nodded, “yeah, I mean you’re right Damian is nothing like your coffee addict, he’s strong and passionate and really cares if you actually look deeper and - uh, yeah. I get what you’re saying.” Kon smiled, it wasn’t often they had a good “bro moment” but it went well. “Okay good talk bud, I’m gonna take ya back over now, but remember I’m here to give advice. You know Damian is emotionally constipated and so’s Timmy sometimes so I’m here when ya need me, okay bud?” Jon rolled his eyes “okay there we go, too sappy Kon, let’s go back... Oh no, are you guys trying the same thing with Dames?” Conner nodded, and Jon groaned knowing Dami was gonna be in a bad mood now if he hadn’t torn one of his brothers to shreds yet. “Let’s go back now”

“What do you need Grayson” Damian slumped in the passenger seat while Dick began driving. He noticed Dick locked the doors and noted all the ways he could escape if Dick wasn’t who he seemed to be. “Not much little-D just wanted to chat n grab some food, I’ve missed ya!” Damian narrowed his eyes, “I thought you liked Kent, you let Tim sleepover too and he had significantly more fun with the clone than Jon and I, who knows what they were doing while we traced star patterns” Dick cringed, noting that he’d have to talk to Tim later. “Well this is actually about Jon! You’ve gotten really close huh?” Damian shifted in his seat, getting a clear view of the car’s side mirror which showed none other than Red Robin trailing a couple hundred feet behind Dick’s car. “What is happening Grayson, we’ve done nothing wrong, not to mention nothing the clone and replacement haven’t done,” Damian couldn’t fathom why he was being tortured by his mom brother.

“That’s just the point baby bat, you and Jon haven’t done anything for yourselves. You invited Jon to star watch, Kori and I did that two weeks ago, Jon’s ruffling your hair the way Kon does Tim, and you’re saving news clippings from your adventures with Jon just as Tim does with Kon. It’s time to be your own guy Dames!” This was too much emotional intervention for Damian. Noticing Tim had fallen behind he pulled the lever on the car seat and use the momentum of it flying forward to push himself out the car’s side window. Never without his tool belt, he grabbed his grapple but cursed Smallville for having nothing good to swing towards. He heard cars honk and a child threw themself out of a window, rolled smoothly on the grass beside the road, and took off.

He was in the clear until he heard the rev of Red Hood’s motorcycle. Muttering under his breath he pulled out the comm he and Jon had exchanged just a few days before, he’d seen Jason do it with his teammates why shouldn’t he? As he signaled Jon he let his thoughts divulge for just a second at how similar he was to his brothers, and how Jon really liked to copy Kon as well. “Might have a point but this is good fun” he mumbled as he radioed Jon.

“They try the intervention?”

“I think I’m still being intervened for lack of a better word. Care to give me a lift these damn Smallville buildings aren’t big enough to swing from.” Damian heard Jon chuckle. “I would say ‘I’m on the way bird-brain’ but I think that’s Kon’s line and we aren’t supposed to do that anymore” Damian groaned at the realization they’d already gotten to Jon and knowing him he’d want to talk about it with Damian. There truly was no escape, but Jon was better than getting captured by Jason and Tim.

“C’mere you little shit!” Jason screeched as he saw Damian pick up the pace. Damian would usually know when he’d lost and go in for a fight but the kid kept running. “Something’s up, he’s not fighting” Jason lookup up to see Tim soaring down towards Damian. “Wings aren’t flapping Drake you’re not airborne much longer” Jason noted as Tim cascaded through the air. “Long enough idiot, pick up is on the way”

“of - fucking - course it is” Jason stopped in his tracks when he saw not only Jon but Conner flying in, Conner on Jon’s tail. “So is this just a fun exercise now? I think the kids got the message” Tim had connected Kon to the group. “Leave ‘em be let’s go for plan C” Dick told the group and the comms filled with Tim’s groans and Kon whooping. “Nah I’m out but I still wanna give ‘em a run for it. Dami is smart he’ll figure out what he and Jon are” Jason tried to sound caring and thoughtful, but really he wanted to chase Damian and not have to watch Conner makeout with his brother. “Alright we can talk later, go get them” Dick gave the go-ahead and the three took after their younger brothers who had quite the head start.

“Clone is on our tail, can’t you go faster?” Damian complained. “Good one Rob but if I’ve got this correctly I’m the one carrying you.” Damian rolled his eyes, using his wrist computer to find the quickest hiding spot. “Left here, hard turn” Damian instructed as Jon dove into a field of grains. “Not that hard idiot” Jon laughed and Damian couldn’t contain a giggle. “Well they won’t find us... what should we do?” Jon poked at Damian.

“Sometimes I wonder how I befriended you”

“So you admit we’re best friends!”

“Glad that’s what you got”

“Well now that we’re here wanna talk about our..... feelings?” Jon waggled an eyebrow at Damian.

“Forget it, Jason finding me is better than this” Damian began to get up when Jon grabbed his hand, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Stay with me Dames, just for a little” and though Damian wouldn’t admit it, he was glad Jon asked him to stay, because he was never good at the feelings thing but with Jon he kinda wanted to try. He wanted to find what the feeling of his heart pounding out his chest and his brain being fuzzy was, and just how he could feel it just a little more often.

[miss-choco-chips]

Put a ring on it 2

Gonna drop this here super quick and then go back to cram for my finals. Who allowed me to schedule six finals in one week? I’m gonna die. Pray for me.

Tagging @jedissica ‘cause they asked me to, and @animemangasoul who I think will like this.

---.---

-Batman, here we are. It’s been a while since you last called an emergency meeting. Is everything okay?

-Were you aware that our children eloped together?

-...what.

-As in, my third kid, your first one, Diana’s second, and Barry’s… grandchild. I’m not exactly sure about who married who, but there was more than one wedding and they have a group chat called ‘hubbies and waifu’. Whatever that means.

-...

-...

-That’s my girl. I always told her, go big or go home.

-Diana, no.

----.----

Cassie’s phone went off again with her specific Diana ringtone, and she gave up, turning it off and throwing it on the pile with Kon’s, Bart’s and Tim’s (the last one had four all by himself, so it was quite a big ‘phone tower’; Hah, pun intended).

-You’re gonna freak out so badly over this when you actually wake up -she informed Tim’s fluffy hair. 

Said vigilante only released a cute little snore, face buried on her lap, legs thrown over Kon’s, one hand that had fallen from the couch resting on Bart’s head where he sat on the floor in front of them.

-Well, they were going to find out one way or another. And this was probably among the best scenarios.

-How? I’m sure this one was top five on Tim’s ‘worst case’ nightmare list.

-I was there and saw their faces. I didn’t even know Batman could express any emotion other than ‘cold’ and ‘overflowing with rage’. That image will bring me joy in future distressing times, I’m sure. My patronus memory, if you will.

-I’m soooooooo jealous, dude.

Cassie snorted, carefully not moving an inch, fingers cradling through Tim’s hair. Over her dead body would he ever cut it, now that it was finally long enough to make itty tiny braids all over it, her favorite therapeutic iddle work.

-We’ll make Tim give us footage when he wakes up. He has to provide for us, after all.

Kon let his arm, resting on the backrest of the couch, fall over Cassie’s shoulders- Be sure to include footage from after we left, too. Nightwing’s  ‘As in more than one?!’ part was solid gold.

-No kidding, I want that as my ringtone for you and Tim -chimed in Bart, carefully moving Tim’s hand back to the couch and then running to the kitchen- Ice cream?

-Do you even need to ask?

---.----

By the time Tim woke up, the hero gossip network had done it’s thing, and almost everyone with a costume was aware of the news. Even Cissie, who was officially retired, and Zachary Zatara, away on his shows and usually out of reach, had called, the first one to offer congratulations and ask if the thing was real emotionally-wise, the second to just laugh at them for full six minutes before hanging up. 

He did text them later, asking when the celebration ceremony would be.

-It’s not a bad idea -mused Cassie, showing them her phone screen with the magician’s text- a party, I mean.

Tim, from his place working a case on the Titan’s main computer, tuted- Batman might actually kill me for that. I think we’ve survived this far only because there are no written records making this official, and a part of him must think it’s all some elaborate prank.

-It’s not -insisted Bart, head poking out of the kitchen- we are family now, officially. No take backs.

Their Robin shifted in place just enough for them to see his smile, a gift on itself- I know, guys, and the sentiment is much appreciated. But from a legal standpoint, it’s not that different from what a few kids on a playground could do while playing family. Only place this could stand against judgement would be the future, some ancient Amazonian tribe, or Krypton.

-Doesn’t matter, as long as it’s true for us. And, I mean, we didn’t want to cut your options if you ever wanted to actually get married the classic way.

This time, their bird actually turned around, a warmth on his expression that he usually reserved for his team. It made them feel special like nothing else.

-Yeah, I know. Thank you for that. It was really considerated.

As if they would drag Tim into something like legal marriage without previous consent. The fact that he even felt the need to thank them for showing him basic human decency was making their blood boil with the need to punch a bat on the face.

Kon flew over, the high chair preventing him from draping himself on his best friend’s back, but not from hugging his neck and messing his hair.

-Back at my point -cleared her throat the amazonian-, your former mentor can suck my metaphorical Freudian dick. We could throw a party, and it would only be different from a normal one because marriage celebrations include gifts, which I’m totally for. I haven’t seen Zatara, Cissie, Greta and Anita in a while, and Miguel, Raven and Gar might murder us for not telling them about our plans and not making it up to them with a party. No ‘adults’ out of the ones on team, or mentors, invited, enough alcohol to re-drown Atlantis, fancy food bought with Bat’s credit card…

-You are right, it does sound kinda nice -hummed Kon, floating just out of Tim’s range when former Wonder Boy tried to slap his hands away. Silly bat, always denying affection.

-All in favor?

-I don’t know -giving up, Tim went back to his case files- I have a lot to do this days, and there’s a lead that might take me to Asia…

-Isn’t Cass there? Ask her to take over it for you, as a marriage present or something. C’mon Tim, do it for the gifts. Imagine what Zatara might get for us. So crash.

-If  it’s a magical object, I won't want it anywhere near me. We bats don’t have the best track record with that stuff, and I swear to god if I get deaged I would use my non-prosecutable age to murder someone. Probably Zatara himself.

-Adorable as that might be, it totally won’t happen.

----.----

-....can you repeat it one more time? Slower, though. I think I’m getting hearing problems.

Raven, through the video call connecting the Cave with the Tower, didn’t seem fazed by Nightwing’s slightly threatening tone.

-I said, the team had a party, everyone got drunk, and it was fine for a while. I was watching over them, but then I needed to use the restroom. When I got back, someone had gotten ahold of Zachary’s gift for Tim, Cassie, Kon and Bart, and…

-Why for those four? -asked Hood, standing right by N’s side. He had came in during Raven’s first explanation, and felt like there was something he was missing.

-It was a marriage gift. Moving on…

-A what?! Since when is Lil Red married? The fuck happened while I was in Russia?!

-...someone had gotten ahold of the gift -Raven kept going, cool as a cucumber. On the background behind her, teen heroes were running back and forth, people were screaming and something was smoking-, which happened to be some sort of magical artifact. Zachary wasn’t really aware of what it did, he just randomly choose it from among his collection of magical tools when he remembered at the last possible time a gift was mandatory for a wedding party. I returned from the bathroom and everything was a mess, the couch was turned upside down, a pipe had burst, the tv was on fire and Tim had been de aged.

There was a battle scream, in a distinctly childish voice, somewhere on the room out of view of the camera, and Raven’s eyes left the screen for a second as if looking at it.

-Was that Red Robin? -Batman, because of course he was listening in, started typing at the console, frantically trying to get a new angle to see what was going on on the Tower.

-He’s unharmed, and everything is under control.

Another scream, this time louder.

-...that didn’t sound under control -mused Dick, apparently still processing the information. Bruce typed faster. Robin gripped his sword tighter, as if readying himself for a war.

Jason still looked utterly lost.

-Marriage? She said marriage? AND YOU ASSHOLES KNEW ‘BOUT THIS?!

-He’s… throwing a tantrum -the woman ignored him, still looking only at her former leader-. Something about using his age to kill Zatara without being convicted. I’ll need to leave now, I only called to ask you to take over Tim’s cases while we solve this issue.

-Wait! Rae, if Timmy’s a kid, he needs to be with us. We are his family, it’s our jurisdiction.

A green bird suddenly landed on her shoulder, halthing whatever response she might give. Gar pecked her on the cheek lightly before turning his beak their direction.

-Husbands and Wives get priority, N, you know that. Cassie, Kon and Bart are looking after him, and keeping him from killing Zachary, while the rest of us research how to turn him back. Zach is actually trying to contact his cousin, maybe the great Zatanna will quicken this process. So, yeah, no Bats allowed on the Tower until then!

-But/!

A loud crash, followed by a wail, made Gar wince and Raven’s head to snap to the side and growl.

-Whelp, gotta go, Tower out! -a ‘Tim!’ could be heard in the background just before the screen went dark.

-...

-...

-...

-...Anyone gonna fill me in?

-Drake eloped thrice over without informing us and has been living in sinful unworthiness with his three partners since last month or so, that we know about. Probably more.

-...Partners?

-You heard her. The speedster, clone and amazonian.

-...

-...

-Dickie, how t’fuck did ya allow’is to happen?!

-IT’S NOT LIKE I WAS ASKED FOR MY BLESSING, JASON!

-B, what the utter hell, ain’t ya supposed to keep track of this kinda shit?!?

-...

-Don’t bother, Father has been broken since learning of Drake’s mistake, and will go unresponsive at the most inconvenient times.

-...

-Fuck, I need a drink. Also, ’m going there.

-You heard Gar, Jay -pointed out Dick- we can’t just walk in there, and the Tower is legally his. We have to be smart about this, plan this through, and/

-Yeah, no, he said ‘no bats’-gesturing at his gun holsters, he started to walk to where his bike was parked-. RIP ya’ll, but I’m different. See ya.

-...

-...

-Tt. Useless. I’ll go back to training. Father, Grayson, should you two, as the plebeians say, ‘snap out of it’ and come with a good plan to get Drake back under our tutelage, I’ll be by the mats waiting.

-...

-...Don’t look at me like that. I raised him for a few months tops, but he’s your kid, not mine. Same with Tim, and Jason’s entirely your fault.

---.---

Meanwhile, back at the Tower, Kon let out a screeching ‘Tim!’ before diving out and catching the baby bird in his arms, halting his fall from the ceiling rafters where he had been climbing. Behind him, Cassie let out a relieved breath.

-God’s above, you almost gave me a heart attack. Okay, new ground rules, this two little feet stay on the ground.

Tim, as proudly as a three year old toddler could, frowned at him.

-Don’t patwonize me, Kon. And lemme go, I havta cacth Zac/ Zat/… Magic-boy.

Bart materialized by their side, arms looping below Tim’s armpints to carry him to the recently put back to its correct place couch. He dropped there, tiny bird in his lap, cooing all the while.

-Aww, you’re precious.

-I could still huwt you -pointed out the toddler, resigning himself at being manhandled.

-I know -replied Bart lovingly, softly stroking his turf of hair.

Somewhere on the side, Cissie clapped her hands, as if getting rid of the dust there.

-Okay, I putted out the fire, so now I’ll be heading home. This magical bullshit is way out of my ‘retired’ comfort zone.

Cassie landed by her side and gave her a quick hug, while Greta walked up to them- I understand, thanks for coming.

-Give us a call when this is solved, we can have a coffee while you complain about your husbands. And… child, now, I guess. God, it was already weird calling Tim your husband, but now he’s a baby and it's doubly weird. Figure this out quickly.

-Will do. See you guys later.

One by one, they all left, some offering their support (appreciated, but not needed, thank you, we’ll manage), some still laughing. In the end, only the Core Four, Gar, Raven and Miguel remained. Zachary probably was there somewhere (if he dared leave without helping them fix this, he was dead meat), but out of the enraged toddler’s sight, which. Wise.

Even if said little human being was pint sized and cow eyed, he was probably still the most dangerous person in the room, unarmed or not (you know what, scratch that; if time with Tim taught them anything, was that no bat was ever unarmed. Even bare handed, their own bodies were weapons).

-...So... What should we do while we wait for Zatara’s solution?

-I vote movie night. It’s not like we can keep on drinking, with a kid in the room/ Auch! Pointy elbows, Tim!

Kon swooped in, picking Tim from Bart’s not invulnerable lap and cuddling to him on the couch by the speedster’s side. Tim knew better than to hit the Boy of Steel without proper equipment, so he let himself fall back against the broad chest. Cassie, talking to the older members of the team on the side, smiled softly at them before returning to her conversation.

As mad as his current situation made him, Tim couldn’t bring himself to pout too much. It had been a fun night, all things considered.

-----.-----

[iphoenixrising]

For 700 Followers!

Hi babe.

That is terribly angsty and now I’m intrigued.

(Just a note for babe not familiar with No Home for Dead Birds or Fracture: I write a scene in which Tim literally has a gun to head. This is not lighthearted angst, please be warned if you read this.)

**

At one time, his colors had been red, gold, and green.

At one time, he’d been part of something bigger, something important. A legacy.

At one time, he’d been able to fly without being afraid of falling.

Being Robin had been the epitome. Even with all the terrible things he’d endured, all the injuries, all the catastrophes, all the insane megalomaniacal baddies breathing down his neck, he wouldn’t have traded the tunic for anything in the world.

(Dick had known it, had known how painful it was for Tim give it up once his Dad found out.)

He would have died with the R on his chest and never had a single regret.

Realistically, he couldn’t have been Robin forever, and he’d known that someday he would have to give it up and either move on with his life as a regular person, or take on another name, another mask, to keep fighting the good fight.

He hadn’t expected Dick would take it without a thank-you or fuck you to mark the end. That hadn’t been in the plan.

But it’s fine because Dick was the first and Robin had been his anyway, right?

Right.

Wrong.

Staring down the .45 in hand, the gun his father hadn’t had the chance to use to save his own life, Tim Drake wonders how it all came down to this.

(Last one left standing. Of fucking course.)

How it had all come out so badly, how he could barely step foot back in Gotham, how he had to avoid the Manor, the Carriage House, his own family home. How he couldn’t pick up the phone or answer texts coming from his former team. How he could barely keep himself the fuck together now that Bruce was back. How his hands would start to shake when the Manor phone number popped up (Alfred). How his mind’s eye would go back to Dick at the Big Computer in the Batsuit, telling him they were still equals. How he would imagine what would happen if he hadn’t caught himself when that zip line was cut. How he would sit in his safe house, off the Bat radar, and mourn the times when he was actually–

(happy)

–part of a family.

The pictures from an old Vans shoebox, the ones he’d taken back when he’d had the run of Gotham, following Batman and Robin (Jason), are burning in the kitchen sink. He watches Nightwing’s blurry face melt away and pretends there aren’t tears in his eyes.

The old memorabilia from Haley’s Circus is in a storage unit outside the city, along with a box that has his last Robin suit.

The lawyer has strict instructions to deliver the key and a letter to his former adopted father, Bruce Wayne, upon news of his death so anything incriminating can be properly disposed.

(They wouldn’t need any of it anyway. They could just shred all of it and wash their hands of him. The Robin that never should have been.)

A map with all his safe houses would be send to Conner Kent, along with a letter of apology.

His favorite nerd shirts would go to Ives.

The sundries in his Perch would be for Steph, and the penthouse itself would go to Babs in case things in the theatre went sideways.

Bart would get a zip drive with all their old shenanigans on video, the only copies left once his systems uploaded relevant data to Titan’s Tower and his electronic footprint would be–

gone.

The box with the Red Robin costume he wore was already sealed and addressed to Jason Todd. The note on top was short and sweet: You were right. It never should have been me after all.

He’d already arranged for his share in Wayne Enterprises to be returned to Bruce Wayne immediately, handing him his family’s company back without any strings attached.

Months ago, he’d returned The Red Bird to the Cave when he was sure no one would be around to catch him. The implication that Robin would need the car one day right there in the fact he’d brought it back because honestly, it was never really his in the first place.

Alfred would get his pick of antiques from Drake Manor, and the house itself would be given to the city to be used as a halfway home for runaway teens. He’d made sure the funding would be there to run it for a few years. The donation was made in his mother’s name.

The hilt molds to his palm, the barrel glinting bright in the night. To his credit, his hands aren’t shaky when he slides the clip home and pulls the slide back to put one in the chamber.

(The team had been working fine without him for a while now. Even if they did need someone, there was another Robin to join the roster and keep them moving forward.)

An abrupt light in the darkness, his phone screen lighting up with a missed call notification.

Missed call: Dick the OG

Ironic since the last time he’d come this far, it had been him calling out to the last person he thought could pull him back.

(Not this time. He has a new little brother, a new Robin.)

Slowly, without putting down the .45, he presses the ignore when the phone starts buzzing against with another incoming call. He thumbs the button on the side to turn the phone completely off without listening to the voicemail.

The clip makes a difference, but the absurdity of it, of the last time he did this, was when his future self was a murdering, gun-toting Batman, and the only way he could see to stop it was to stop himself.

The press of the barrel is familiar, and not in that soothing kind of way.

He blinks, just blinks, and his face is wet, which is really stupid because no one is going to miss him any damn way.

His chest gets tight when he fingers the trigger guard, giving himself the time he needs to do it right. In the final moments, he inanely thinks about the time he was huddled against Dick, right after he'd almost tried cloning his dead best friends in an insane attempt to bring them back. It's really the last time he remembers being held, being warm, feeling like he still fucking mattered. It was Dick holding him tight with restraining, breathing against the top of his head, fingers buried in his hair.

It's when he could be weak while still in the mask, babbling to Dick about how he can't do this, he can't lose them all. He was crying then, too, when he told Dick about his mom and dad leaving, leaving, always fucking leaving. About how he got used to seeing their backs more than their faces. How he was left standing on his own for too damn long to just let it keep happening. He couldn't keep losing them, couldn't keep seeing people walk away, how it fucking breaks him.

And in the here and now, his chest hitches, eyes fluttering, hand tightening down because he'd said...and Dick had...

"But I'm here, Timmy. I'm always going to be your big brother!"

It had been the last time he'd been surrounded by the famed octopus hold.

(It was the last time for a lot of things.)

He laughed, smothered in Dick shoulder, something further away from a sob. "Then I guess you'll at least never leave me, right?"

"You will never be able to get rid of me. C'mon. We're going the hell home and having a movie day. Screw the Lazarus Pit, Robin. It's time for some R and R."

Dick had half-carried him to the waiting Batplane and talked him down out of trying to use the Pit for his own gain ever again.

The first knuckle rests on the smooth curve, a six-pound trigger.

(In the end, they all leave.)

(Not again.)

Conner's terrible mohawk and leather jacket.

Bart racing Wally at a hotdog eating competition.

Cassie running full tilt to throw herself at him when he'd come to Titan's Tower to ask them for help when Ra's was going to kill everyone Batman ever loved.

Raven nuzzling Gar out of plain sight so no one would think she was totally gone for him.

Jason coming to the Tower, alive good God, and the Robin he used to be super-imposed to be his hero and enemy in the same ghostly figure.

Bruce putting a hand on his shoulder on a ride back to the Cave, chasing the dawn, the Good work, tonight tired but sincere, and his whole body lights up.

His mother looking at peace in her coffin, a lily in her folded hands.

His eyes close on the out-of-the-way safe house, the plain beige walls, stripped and soulless. He keeps the team in his mind, the times he was happy.

Now.

Instead of a resounding boom followed by his grey matter splattering his personality, intelligence, imagination, him all over–

the wall to the safe house caves in under a super punch.

Conner is white as a sheet on the other side, brick and mortar crumbling under his hands. "No! Tim. Tim. Put. The. Gun. Down."

His mouth is dry and his brain pan full of nothing but pain and disappointment.

(But you brought it all on yourself, didn't you? The Robin nobody wanted. The son nobody asked for.)

He isn't numb enough to be calm, cool, and collected. "All...all you have to do–" a hitch in his breathing "–is walk away."

The meta floats in a little closer, hovering over the flooring instead of outside. His hands stretch out, gaze focused and intense.

"Can't do that, buddy. Looks like I should have been more of an asshole after all the League of Assassins shenanigans. Sorry, my bad."

Kon knows he's in trouble when Tim Drake doesn't laugh.

"Tim," he goes to serious in about two point five seconds because the hand holding that shiny automatic tightens enough for him to hear the screws in the hilt strain, "Tim. It's me here, okay? It's just you and me, just like it's always been. We’re besties, whether you're Robin or Red Robin or Tim fucking Drake because that guy is so damn cool." He inches closer, wondering if he's fast enough, wondering if he can really get to Tim in time–

Like the former Robin can read his mind, those violet-blue eye give him a blink.

"I’ve always wondered if you really are faster than a speeding bullet."

“No!”

(...as it turns out, he isn’t.)

[whetstonefires]

fictober prompt #5: “Take what you need.”

“Take what you need,” Tim said, waving toward the tiny armory, and he probably shouldn’t have been surprised that the little tribe of assassins immediately started pushing and shoving to get at the best gear. It made sense to have his armory in an easily concealed recess when it was just for him; he hadn’t anticipated it being utilized as a weapons buffet for a small army.

He decided to let them sort that out amongst themselves. “No murder,” he directed, sinking into his chair, his hands already going a mile a minute over the keys as he checked all his systems for updates and alerts.

“We wouldn’t,” said one of them.

“Not each other,” said another, which Tim could tell by rhythm, but not by any difference in the sound.

A lot of people wouldn’t be treating them like people. Tim knew that. The impulse had been there for him, too, especially when the suspicious little face staring up at him in septuplicate had been that of someone he had never gotten along with, who had in fact consistently used his every moment of generosity or compassion against him.

But he couldn’t call himself Connor’s friend and not respect the rights of a bunch of clones who’d run away from their maker seeking independence.

If they turned out to be evil then he’d regret arming them, but he had a lot of sympathy for how naked they obviously felt without any means of self-defense, and under the circumstances that was a pretty decisive reason to arm them.

No major local Gotham issues developing he had to somehow balance this with, a relief. No signs of movement from the League as a whole, outside Talia’s personal staff who were definitely moving. No word from the family, either. Had the kids actually made it all the way here without raising any alerts?

He started digging.

“We’re ready,” said one of them, directly to Tim enough that it broke through his screening-out of their ongoing bickering. He looked over.

“None of you need high explosives,” he announced. “I don’t even carry those unless they’re specifically called for in a mission plan. None of you need any bombs, actually. Put all of those back.”

There was a lot of grumbling, but astonishingly they appeared willing to listen. He hadn’t even needed to invoke the specter of Bruce’s disapproval. New bickering started up as previous trades were declared invalid by those who’d received explosives they weren’t allowed to keep.

Tim was probably very poorly adjusted, six year olds squabbling over grenades shouldn’t be adorable. It was increasingly obvious that either Talia had been educating these telepathically, or letting them out of the tubes for training of some kind. He was used to people whose ages didn’t match their bodies, and these didn’t quite give that vibe, but they weren’t normal, either.

The little boy who’d told him they were done kept staring at Tim; he didn’t seem to be carrying any bombs. He had one of Tim’s bandoliers draped across his chest; it was cinched as tight as it would go and the bottom edge still hung against his upper thigh.

“Yeah?” Tim asked, after the silent staring had gone on long enough.

“You’re helping.”

“Yeah?” Tim said, because that wasn’t an answer or a question. “You asked.”

Well, one of them had. They’d all been dressed alike before they started putting on his stuff, he didn’t know which one had called out wait, when he’d pretended he was going to leave them to fight off eight adult ninjas on their own, without weapons.

He’d half-expected someone to call his bluff, or else give up theirs, but the tone of that wait hadn’t been that at all. It had just been.

Well. He’d turned around.

“You brought us to your home.” Did the League disincentivize asking questions? Yes, they did, come to think of it. Damian had avoided asking them too, though it was less obvious when papered over with that much bluster and arrogance and homicide.

“My place was closest,” said Tim. It had been literally a block away.

“You haven’t called anyone else.”

There wasn’t a nice way to say that if they were a trap, he’d prefer it only caught him.

“Do you want me to?” he asked instead.

The little spokesman slowly shook his head. “He’d come. Wouldn’t he.”

Bruce? No. Damian. “Robin?” Tim asked.

He still wasn’t happy that the name belonged to the demon brat now, but the little horde had responded to ‘Damians’ when he rallied them after they put the League hunters down, and he didn’t know how uncomfortable it would make them to have it applied to just the original. Assuming he was the original, who even knew. He could be version twelve.

The spokesman nodded.

“You want to avoid him?” Then why come to Gotham?

The little spokesman shrugged.

“We don’t want to see him yet,” said another boy over his shoulder, one of the ones who’d strung half a dozen grenades on one of Tim’s belts and had now replaced them with smoke bombs.

“Yes,” said the spokesman, whose nickname was already starting to seem ironic.

Tim addressed that. “Okay, and by the way what do I call you? I can’t just keep saying ‘Damians.’”

The Damians, all of them now fully armed and without visible bombs, clumped up briefly for a silent conference. Were they psychic? He hoped they weren’t psychic.

The names they gave when they were done hopefully whispering were just ordinal numbers in Farsi. More horribly, they weren’t contiguous.

“Will more of you be joining us later?” Tim asked, and got ‘no’ from the spokesman in the bandolier, whose number was Sizdahum, thirteenth.

This was not the time and Tim was not the person to compromise their stoicism on that, so he moved on without comment. If they needed to leave Gotham again to avoid meeting Damian before they were ready, that was acceptable to the collective. Yes, they would welcome his help making a satisfactory entrance. Yes, they realized making a good impression on Batman was at least as important as making one on Robin.

“And now?” asked smoke bomb kid, numbered Haftum, seventh. He was the one who moved the most, was hardly ever still, in contrast to Sizdahum who didn’t seem to move at all without a specific reason. It was going to be a struggle learning to identify them all by cues like this before they used or rearranged some of the equipment he was using to tell them apart for now; Tim suspected they’d forgive some errors.

He shut down most of the processes on his computer, though he left it on in case of any important updates, and turned his back to it. Folded his hands, his elbows propped on his swivel-chair’s arms. He was slightly taller than they were even sitting down.

“Now we plan. Our options are limited, especially if we want to avoid Robin. My defenses here are good against intruders, but if they don’t want you alive they can just destroy the building.”

He looked expectantly at the attentive row of pint-size Damians. Tactical information please, first graders.

“We’re just spares,” scoffed Haftum.

“They won’t hold back,” said Chihaarum, fourth. He was the lowest number in the room, unless you counted Tim, whose number was of course three.

“Ra’s would prefer me alive, but not enough to make it easy for me, and these are Talia’s people. I have a much better-secured bunker some way out of town. If we can shake off pursuit I can access a van that can get us all there. If necessary, I have contacts that can help with extraction to a secure location.” Kon and Bart would be 100% willing to be called in on this. Tim would rather not risk them, but they couldn’t possibly be the intended targets if this was a trick, so it was better than calling the family, and he wasn’t going to let these kids get killed for his paranoia.

“Objections, concerns?” None were volunteered. Tim could enjoy working with such a professional team if it weren’t so creepy. He initiated system lockdown. “We’d better move out.”

They nodded, and Shishum took point out the roof exit once its location was indicated. Tim let him, because they’d apparently made it halfway around the world without his supervision and he remembered how annoying it had been trying to get adults to take him seriously and having his competence utterly dismissed on the basis of his age.

Tim did insist on being the first one to step out of cover once they were all on the roof. No one seemed to be holding any of the sniper posts that could target his roof, so he motioned the kids after him. Counted them off, 4-6-7-9-11-13-14.

“Chahardahum,” he whispered, identifying the boy by the oversized Kevlar vest he’d thrown on. “Stay lower, we’re trying for stealth. And can I call you Chadah?” He wanted to respect their individuality even if it was numbers, but four syllables, three of them fairly long, wasn’t ideal for this sort of situation, especially when it sounded so similar to Chiharum that no mumbling could be allowed.

The boy named Fourteenth rolled his shoulders in a shrug, then nodded. He didn’t like the idea, clearly, but he accepted it.

“Great. Thanks. Let’s go.” Red Robin took off over the roofs, leading his trail of ducklings and keeping an eye on what their comfortable jumping range was as he tried to plan a sneaky route that was physically possible.

The order they fell into was unexpected, with Shishum at the front instead of a flank and Sizdahum bringing up the rear, and he resisted the urge to give directions about who should be where. They knew their own skillsets better than he did, micromanaging was not going to help here.

Of course, with the size of his current forces, any managing he did would be micro.

[g-on-ef]

I'm having a bad day, can you write a DamiJon and TimKon fic where the supers are having an arm wrestling match and their Robin's are laughing and cheering them on from the sidelines? Pleasssseeeeeeee????? 😄

I hope you enjoy this sweetie and that the rest of your week is better and more enjoyable ^*^

Alfred was famous for making sweets; no matter what itwas his deserts where always the best so it was no surprise that there werehardly any leftovers since the batboys tend to finish them. Today however, wasan exception Alfred made his famous cinnamon crumb cake and there were only twoslices left.

Tim, Kon, Jon, and Damian looked at one another silentlychallenging the others for the slices of cake.

“We deserved the last two slices, we’ve solved a case andarrested four drug lords!” Tim said glaring at Damian.

“Arresting a criminal and solving a case is child’s playDrake both Jon and I were able to take down Luthor and his operations!”

“You had help from both Bruce and Clark and we didn’t!”

“You also had outside help, Grayson and Todd had a handin taking down the drug lord,”

“That’s different!”

“How?!”

Before either two could continue their argument, Jon and Connorstood between them and separated the two.

“Come on guys the slices are big enough for all four ofus to share,” Jon said trying to keep the peace, Connor looked at his littlebrother like he grew two heads.

“What?” the younger Kent asked.

“Are you serious? You really want a small slice of Alfred’scake, when you can have your own big piece?”

“Well yeah but,”

“But nothing Kent, it’s clear that neither Drake, the clone,nor I are going to let this matter go until we get what we want,”

“And how are we gonna settle this?” Jon had to ask,Connor smirk as he sat down at the table and stuck out his hand.

“Arm wrestling, you and me Jon winner takes both slicesof cake and the mantle of the second strongest member in the Kent family.”

Both Damian and Tim looked at each other before a slysmile spread across their faces.

“An arm wrestle contest would not only give us a victor,but it’ll finally determine which of our aliens is the far soupier one,” Damiansaid already liking this idea.

“I hate to agree with the brat but he’s right Kon, youbetter win this and not make me look someone who teams up with pansies,”

“Gee thanks Tim, your faith in me means a lot,”

Damian just rolled his eyes as he looked at Jon.

“I don’t need to give you no words of encouragement becauseyou can easily kick his ass, you are not only my partner but also my boyfriendyou could easily defeat him without even breaking a sweat,”

“Umm…thanks?” the young superhero said, a bit worriedthat he’ll let his Robin down.

Jon looked at his brother in fear, the two were alwaysrough housing and testing each other’s strength, sadly Connor always came outon top between their little games. Still beating Connor would be great for hisego also if he could slide in another deal maybe Jon can win both the cake andsomething else.

“Okay, but let’s add something else to the deal,”

“And that is?”

“If you win you’ll get both the slices of cake and Ma’s last slices of pie, also youand Tim have to do whatever me and Damian say for the rest of the weekend,”

Both Tim and Kon looked at one another before looking attheir younger brothers, Jon with a mischievous glint in his eyes and Damianwith a proud smile that was directed to Jon.

“Okay, but if I win we get both deserts and you andDamian have to do our chores for the rest of the weekend,” he said looking atTim who nodded his head in approval.

“Deal,” Jon said sitting down and grabbing his brother’sarm.

Both Connor and Jon smirked at one another before Damianstood on one side of the table and Tim stood on the opposite end.

“Okay you two, on the count of three,” Tim said lookingat both Superboys,

“One,”

“Two,” Damian said,

“THREE,” both Wayne brothers said simultaneously.

Jon and Connor tried to bring the other down as they usedall their strength to bring the other down.

“Come on Kon, show this little twerp who’s boss,” Timcheered,

“Twerp?” Jon asked, for a second he was distracted for awhile, enough time for Connor to bring his hand down a little.

“Jon focus!” Damian cried afraid of Jon losing, he didnot want to do Drake’s chores for the rest of the weekend but more importantlyhe wanted that cake! {And the pie}

Jon regain his focus as he pulled his arm back upbringing it back to the center, he glared at Kon who couldn’t help but smirk atalmost winning,

“That’s it Jon kick this wanna be Super-man reject’s ass!”

“What did you say?” Kon asked all traces of humor gone,like Kon who took advantage of his distraction Jon used his slip ofconcentration to his advantage and tried to bring down his arm he was halfwaythere before Kon regain focus more like Tim hit him in the back of the head andyell,

“Focus!”

Kon regain his focus as he brought his arm back to thetop, this time it was Jon who had a smirk on his face and a look of worried wason Connor’s.

The two kept trying to bring the other down, Tim and Damianlooked at the two with both excitement and anticipation as their supers triedto beat the other,

“Come on Connor don’t let this little boy beat you,”

“If Jon wins its not because Connor was defeated by a boyit was because he lost to a far supior being,” Damian said as he watched hisboyfriend winning this match.

“Come on Kent, don’t let this clone beat you you’re waybetter than him,”

“Of course, I’m gonna win Dami, after all I’m cuter andsince I am younger that means I’m a lot stronger I mean you’re getting old Kon,that means you’re losing your edge,”

Both Tim and Connor looked at him in shock while Damianlaughed at Jon’s trash talking. He was to cute when he tried to be tough.

Connor smirk as he tried to push his arm down,

“You maybe cute little brother but I’m hotter and I maybeold but I have more experience than you, and plus I at least don’t cry duringthe Lion King or the ending to Pokémon,”

“Ooohhh,” Tim said, he found three pairs of eyes lookingat him weirdly.

“What? Isn’t that what people do after they are donetrash talking them?”

No answered him before Damian said,

“Remember clone, you are marrying that,”

“Don’t remind me,”

“Hey!”

Jon just laughed as he kept trying to bring his brother’shand down.

“Come on Jon kick his ass!”

“Damian language,” Jon said acting scandalous.

“Yeah Dami, gosh darn it you are only six years old!” Timsaid unable to resist a jab at Damian’s age.

Damian just rolled his eyes as all three boys laughed atthe joke making Damian blush a bright red.

Jon and Connor smirk at one another as their boyfriendskept cheering them on.

“Connor you’re the strongest, bravest, sexiest, and bestman out there! Don’t let this little boy win!”

“Kent, I don’t need to boost your ego because you have meas your boyfriend and that’s enough to know you’re better than the clone so youbetter not lose,”

“Of course, I’m everything you said Tim, can’t let thelittle brats get the best of us and think they are better than us, now can I?”

For some reason this made everyone laugh as theirfriendly competition kept getting a little more heated with their trashtalking.

“Dude I know I’m better than you, and I got a hotterRobin who can kick your old ass without even trying,”

This made both Damian and Tim go,

“Ooooooohhhhhhh,”

“Tim, he just dissed you,”

“Yeah, but it was a great dissed I couldn’t resistcheering him,”

Connor turned to his little brother and couldn’t help butsmile as he said,

“You just said a bad word that means I’m telling mom,”

“Tattle tale,” both Damian and Jon said making both Timand Connor laugh.

“Then I’ll tell Tim about the time you dressed as aballerina and danced to swan lake!”

Both Tim and Damian started laughing as Connor turned abright red before he said,

“Say what you want but I look good in a tutu,”

This made all the boys laugh including Connor who couldn’tresist laughing along his friends.

“Ready to give up?”

“Nope, you?”

“Tch, you wish,”

“My superboy is gonna win Dami,”

“Not a chance Drake,”

“My money is on the clone,”

“No way man Jon is totally gonna win,”

“Wait what?” Connor asked distracted by the new voices, thedistraction was enough for Jon to bring down Connor’s hand making him thevictor.

“I did it! I won! I beat my…brother…” Jon watched in horrorat the scene before him,

Damian, Tim, and Connor turned to where Jon’s face wasstaring as their faces mirror Jon’s expression.

Sitting on the counter was Dick and Jason…eating…Alfred’scake.

“See told you little wing that Damian’s superboy wasgonna win,”

“Ah shit man, I owe you fifty bucks,” Jason said as heput his empty plate down next to him.

“Yeah you do,” Dick said as he took a final bite of thecake and placed his own plate down smiling at his brothers and theirboyfriends. He saw that all four of them were giving them a scandalous look.

“What?” Dick said.

All four continue to stare at them before Jon was thefirst to snap out of it and shouted,

“GET THEM!”

A few minutes later Alfred came in the Manor with a newtray of cinnamon crumble cake and two pies from Ms. Kent, he knew his grandsonsloved his sweets which is why he decided to make another batch as well as askMs. Kent for some of her pies which she kindly gave him.

As he passed the living room and headed for the kitchenhe had to stop and walk back to the living room to make sure that what he sawwas true and not some trick from his eyes.

Upon looking at the living room he saw Master Grayson andMaster Todd tied up hanging from the ceiling while the young Masters, MasterDrake, and Master Kent were sitting in a circle watching some show.

Master Connor was sitting on the couch while Master Drakewas resting his head on Master Connor’s lap who was running his fingers throughhis hair.

Jon and Damian were resting on the other couch in thesame position as their older brothers however, Master Damian was reading a bookto Master Kent and young Master Kent was smiling as he listen to Damian’s softvoice.

Master Todd and Master Grayson were shouting-or tryingwith the gags on their mouth-to be released. All in all it was a typical Fridaynight.

He wanted to ask but at the same time was afraid to,after all if he had to guess it involved his sweets and the boys not being ableto get some. Taking a deep breath, he shakes his head as he headed for thekitchen. He’ll wait until the boys are done watching TV and released MasterGrayson and Master Todd before announcing his surprise.

[mamawasatesttube]

theres just something soooo tasty to me about how their grief for kon drove tim and cassie both a little bit insane. they both were trying to kiss him through each other. how they both understand each other through grief, how they bonded irrevocably as the two left behind. the two who had to keep going. the cult. the clone basement. they see each other more than either of them necessarily wants to be seen. they're both the cheetahs with anxiety and kon is the dog that has to be there to calm them down.

and then you get into kon and cassie and the way they quietly mirror each other - the way they were each other's safety and shelter even though they weren't actually into each other, because kon was dealing with being groomed and abused and exploited every which way, and cassie was dealing with everyone and their brother comparing her to donna and finding her wanting, and calling her ugly and unfeminine and driving her to stifle herself, and the two of them found refuge in each other. and even after they break up, the love is still so present. they're so important to each other. cassie might be a lesbian and kon might be a gay guy but that doesn't take away any of the love. it's just a different flavor, one that they were too young to recognize for what it was at the time. they had to grow into it.

and then there's tim and kon. what is there to even say. they're bonkers about each other. best friends since before owaw and best friends until kon's death tore tim's heart out of his chest. and then best friends again, once he came back. the way they know each other and can read each other. the comfort and ease in each other's presence.

also there is something delightful about how cassie told kon about kissing tim while kon was dead, but not about joining a resurrection cult to try to bring him back, and meanwhile tim did tell kon about the clone basement. (and tried to bring up the short-lived stint of timcassie romance, but kon already knew.) like... was this because the writers (johns and co) were not interested in fleshing out cassie and kon's relationship beyond just love interests? sure. does it make for a fascinating dynamic between kon and cassie (and tim, who knows) all the same? YES.

tim kon cassie trio on the mind today. not a love triangle, not a polycule, but a secret third thing (when a gay man, a lesbian, and their pet bisexual freak love each other very much...)

[river-bottom-nightmare]

I am incapable of writing ANYTHING BUT ANGST. but really this is all elle’s fault, she asked for the fic, I provided. it’s under the cut, have fun with it. it’s on ao3 here.

tag list: @anothertimdrakestan @comicsandhoney @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg @astroherogirl @birdy-bat-writes @thebatsandbirdsofgotham​ @subtleappreciation​

Tim had never been afraid of his mind. His ruthlessness was sharper than blade and his detective skills were keener than a bullet. He wasn’t some sort of super-genius, but he didn’t have to be. He was enough.

Sure, sometimes the wide, disbelieving eyes of his teammates made him a bit uncomfortable. But at the end of the day, he was keeping them safe, wasn’t he? Their comfort was a small price for their lives.

And now? Now he was damn grateful.  

“Cloning attempt forty-five unsuccessful. Samples discarded.” The cool voice cut through the greenish-gloom, cold and mechanical. At times, Tim wished the voice held at least an ounce of warmth. He’d take any bit he could get, and wrap it around himself like a tattered blanket, just willing it to do its job and keep him safe. Other times, Tim was glad the robotic voice was frigid, impersonal. He couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t break down at the first sign of kindness.

“Diagnostic,” Tim said, bent over a computer.

“Protein link breakdown at twenty-three hours and thirty-seven minutes. Full destruction at twenty-four hours and twenty-eight minutes.”

“Solutions?”

“Suggested stabilizer: trehalose.”

“Run it, next trial.”

“Cloning attempt forty-six initiated.”

                                                      _________

“Tim, come on! Cut me some slack!” Kon was trying to pout, but one look at Tim’s raised eyebrows caused him to double over laughing. “It’s not fair!”

“It’s totally fair. You just suck at this.” Tim was straightened up from Street Fighter II, arching his back like a pleased cat.

“You’re not supposed to use your superhero name on this,” Kon said, looking at the blinking line of text that said Robin at the top of all the scores.

Tim scoffed. “Why don’t you say that a little louder, Superboy? ” Kon’s own name was fourth, blinking a little less vibrantly.

“Whatever. I’m hungry,” Kon announced.

“Oh, so now you’re hungry? After losing for the billionth time, you finally want to get some food- hey! ” Tim let out a choked gasp as Kon grabbed him under his elbow, ruffling his head roughly.

“Perfect timing, huh?”

Tim could hear the laughter in Kon’s voice, so he elbowed Kon in the gut, roughly. “Mhmm, it really is.”

“I’m dying, Tim. Dying. You killed me.” Kon was still bent over, arm over his stomach.

Tim grabbed Kon’s other hand and laced their fingers together, thinking nothing of it, tugging to get Kon walking to the food court. “Yeah yeah, complain about it to Cassie. C’mon, I want nacho fries.”

Instead of responding with a laugh and a jibe about Tim’s taste, Kon just started coughing. And coughing and coughing and coughing before he was on the ground.

Suddenly, they weren’t in the arcade anymore. It was a field, calm and peaceful and quiet and Tim was about to throw up because he knew this field.

Kon was lying ahead, staring listlessly to the side with dead eyes.

“No, no no no no, ” Tim rushed over to him, too late, always too late. But the field kept stretching out longer and longer, and Tim couldn’t reach Kon. He made one desperate leap for him, and hit the ground hard.

There was blood all over his hands, Kon’s blood. Seeping into his skin until his fingers had turned dark crimson, spreading down to his palms, his wrists, his arms. He scrubbed at the colour desperately, trying to get it off. Itching and scratching and God why won’t the blood just go away.

Tim let out a desperate, wordless shriek, and the world tilted, turning on its axis and throwing Tim into the air. He woke up gasping, fresh tear tracks on his face.

                                                     _________

Tim was sitting in a rolling chair in front of his computer, cross-legged. His eyes were drooping, but he forced them open. He’d caught a lead in his search for Bruce, somewhere in north Chile. He’d take a week, poke around, then come back here.

Sighing, he turned his chair, back still bent in an awful crouch. There was a glass case right next to him, a black and red T-shirt displayed proudly. He had a couple, but they were all back in his room at the manor. This specific one was the softest, and his favourite. But he couldn’t bring himself to take it out of the case, bundle it up in his arms, and bring it close to himself like he so desperately wanted to. Taking it out of the case made it real.

“Cloning attempt sixty-two unsuccessful.”

Tim let out a near-uncontrollable cry, swinging his arms out wildly in a rare fit of anger. His fist flew towards the computer, and he managed to direct the hit to the wall next to it. The sting of pain brought him back to his senses, and he stared down at his hand, shocked.

Taking in a deep breath, he shook his hand out and shoved his hands through his hair, ignoring the flashing Trial Failed sign on the screen.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. He always knew that he’d lose Kon eventually. Everyone he knew, everyone he loved always left him, voluntarily or not. He didn’t know why he played a losing game.

You know why, his brain told him. You’re selfish. So, so selfish. You just a part of him for as long as he could give it. But it was never going to be enough.

“No,” Tim said aloud to the empty room. “He’s not gone, he’s not .”

“Unknown command,” the automated voice system responded.

Tim held back another fit of rage, then bit out, “Diagnostic.”

“DNA synthesis failure at forty-eight minutes. DNA structural collapse at fifty-nine minutes.”

“Solutions?”

“Retry experiment. New strand of DNA recommended.”

“Run it.”

“Cloning attempt sixty-three initiated.”

                                                     _________

“Tim, come on! Cut me some slack!” Kon was trying to pout, but one look at Tim’s raised eyebrows caused him to double over laughing. “It’s not fair!”

“It’s totally fair. You just suck at this.” Tim was straightened up from Street Fighter II, arching his back like a pleased cat.

“You’re not supposed to use your superhero name on this,” Kon said, looking at the blinking line of text that said Robin at the top of all the scores.

Tim scoffed. “Why don’t you say that a little louder, Superboy? ” Kon’s own name was fourth, blinking a little less vibrantly.

“Whatever. I’m hungry,” Kon announced.

“Oh, so now you’re hungry? After losing for the billionth time, you finally want to get some food- hey! ” Tim let out a choked gasp as Kon grabbed him under his elbow, ruffling his head roughly.

“Perfect timing, huh?”

Tim could hear the laughter in Kon’s voice, so he elbowed Kon in the gut, roughly. “Mhmm, it really is.”

“I’m dying, Tim. Dying. You killed me.” Kon was still bent over, arm over his stomach.

Tim grabbed Kon’s other hand and laced their fingers together, thinking nothing of it, tugging Kon to get him walking to the food court. “Yeah yeah, complain about it to Cassie. C’mon, I want nacho fries.”

“No,” Kon was straightening up now, shoving Tim away.

“Kon?” Tim asked, a little confused and a little hurt.

“You killed me. You killed me.” There was a venom in his voice that Tim had rarely ever heard, and never directed at him.

“I, I didn’t mean to,” Tim was stumbling back now, wide eyed, as Kon advanced on him.

“Yes you did. You know what happens to people you loved, and you loved me anyway.”

Tim shook his head desperately. “I never said I loved you.”

Kon’s laugh was humorless. “You never had to. I knew. You really thought you could hide this from me?”

Kon was backing him against a wall now, arms on either side, effectively trapping him. Tim could get out, of course he could. But he couldn’t make his feet move, no matter how hard he tried.

“Don’t, please don’t,” Tim begged when Kon leaned closer. “Kon wouldn’t, not if I didn’t want to.”

This Conner, one with a cruel, angry glint in his eyes, tipped Tim’s chin up with his finger. “Well it’s a good thing I’m not your Kon then, isn’t it?” His lips were brushing Tim’s now. “Besides, you always had a penchant for torturing yourself.”

Then Kon was devouring Tim’s mouth, and it was everything Tim had ever wanted, and everything Tim hated. Kon was possessive, passionate, biting his lips with a hunger that took Tim by surprise before licking into his mouth hungrily. His fingers were gripping Tim’s jaw, rough and firm, tilting his head to get a better angle. Tim had melted into it, letting Kon take and take and take.

It was wrong. It was all wrong.

Because Kon would have been gentle. He would have cradled Tim’s face in his fingers like he was something precious. His first kiss would have been tentative but sure, letting Tim know much he meant to him. He would have pulled back and smiled at the wonder in Tim’s eyes before ducking down to give him another soft kiss, chaste and oh-so-loving.

Kon had just drawn back to sink his teeth into Tim’s collarbone when Tim woke up with a sob, out of breath and heaving.

He fell out of bed and ran towards the main room, ignoring the flashing light that noted the progress of the latest cloning attempt. He kept running and running until he reached the glass case, where he brought his fist back and slammed it into the glass as hard as he could.

It didn’t even crack. Of course it didn’t, it was reinforced. Tim threw another couple of punches, before spotting a spare piece of piping lying on the ground. He grabbed it and swung, with every mite of strength left in his body, and crashed it into the case.

The glass splintered. He hit it again and again, until shards rained down around Tim, leaving small cuts in his wake. He grabbed the T-shirt, yanking it out of its stand and bringing it close to him, hugging it the way he’d wanted to for so long.

Tim bent over the ground, letting his tears seep into the fabric.

He wanted everyone back. His parents, Steph, Bart, Bruce, Kon. He wanted them all back.

“I’m close,” he mumbled, voice muffled by the T-shirt. “I swear it, I’m close.” He didn’t know if he was talking about finding Bruce or cloning something close enough to Kon. One of them would happen, and it would be enough. He’d stop losing at this rigged puzzle that was his life, he’d stop trying to play this losing game, and it would be enough.

                                                     _________

“Cloning attempt eighty-nine unsuccessful.”

Tim was wearing the Superboy T-shirt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten out of it. His fingers played along the hem, twitching. His attention darted around from one screen to the next, taking in a map of Norway one second, and reading over the cloning file in the next.

“Diagnosis?” He prided himself on how steady his voice sounded.

“Proteins from Subject: Lex Luthor failed to fully integrate into Subject: Clark Kent, Kal-el. Possible problem: invulnerability of kryptonian genes.”

“Solution?”

“Kryptonite injections suggested.”

“Do it. Run it.”

Tim’s own voice had become as robotic as the computers. It was hoarse, raspy. He’d forgotten the last time he’d truly spoken, barring instructions to the computer and the cries torn from his throat in the middle of a night. Concerned messages from Dick sat unread on his phone.

“Just, run it again. Run it again, try again.”

“Cloning attempt ninety initiated.”

                                                     _________

“Tim, come on! Cut me some slack!” Kon was trying to pout, but one look at Tim’s raised eyebrows caused him to double over laughing. “It’s not fair!”

“It’s totally fair. You just suck at this.” Tim was straightened up from Street Fighter II, arching his back like a pleased cat.

“You’re not supposed to use your superhero name on this,” Kon said, looking at the blinking line of text that said Robin at the top of all the scores.

Tim scoffed. “Why don’t you say that a little louder, Superboy? ” Kon’s own name was fourth, blinking a little less vibrantly.

“Whatever. I’m hungry,” Kon announced.

“Oh, so now you’re hungry? After losing for the billionth time, you finally want to get some food- hey! ” Tim let out a choked gasp as Kon grabbed him under his elbow, ruffling his head roughly.

“Perfect timing, huh?”

Tim could hear the laughter in Kon’s voice, so he elbowed Kon in the gut, roughly. “Mhmm, it really is.”

“I’m dying, Tim. Dying. You killed me.” Kon was still bent over, arm over his stomach.

Tim grabbed Kon’s other hand and laced their fingers together, thinking nothing of it, tugging to get Kon walking to the food court. “Yeah yeah, complain about it to Cassie. C’mon, I want nacho fries.”

“Wait,” Kon’s fingers tightened around his own.

“What?”

“You don’t need food right now, do you?” Kon tugged him towards a corner, partially hidden by a column and an arcade game.

“I sure would like some,” Tim raised his eyebrows.

In response, Kon let out a chuckle, small but warm, the edges of his eyes crinkling in the way that made people fawn over Superman but made Tim fall even further and further in love with Kon.

“Well yes I know that, but I was just wondering...”

“Wondering what?”

Kon bit his lips before catching Tim’s eyes. “Maybe you’d like to taste something else?”

Tim stared at him for a second, stunned silence between them, before collapsing into laughter. “ Kon, oh my god!”

Tim looked up to see lips turned out in an adorable little pout. “What! I’m being serious, and it was a good line.”

“It most certainly was not a good line.”

“Cut me some slack here, Tim.”

“You mean like at Street Fighter? The way I cut you slack then?”

“Oh shut up. You cheat. I don’t know how you do, but you cheat .”

And suddenly Tim found himself in Kon’s arms, leaning into the taller boy. Kon tightened his grip around Tim, fingers finding Tim’s waist, and cradling him gently.

“It may have been a terrible line,” Tim smiled up at Kon, “but it worked.”

He leaned forward, placing a kiss to Kon’s lips, delicate but not at all fragile. Kon looked awestruck for a minute, before swooping back down and capturing Tim’s lips again. Passive at first, Tim soon pressed back, letting the push-pull rhythm come naturally. They slowed down, came to a stop while resting their foreheads against each other, Kon bent over and Tim on his tip-toes and arched back, but not uncomfortable at all.

“Okay but did my line actually work?” Kon asked against Tim’s lips, biting his own nervously. “Can I do this again? Because I’d really like to do this again.”

Laughter bubbled out of Tim, easy as breathing, and he pulled back to catch the other boy’s eyes. “Yes. We can do this again. But nacho fries first. Food, then kisses.”

Kon nodded. “Food, then kisses.”

Tim blinked awake, still curled up under the thin covers and swallowed by the pillows. This time, he could feel the tears pricking at his eyes, and he let them fall. “Take me back,” he wasn't sure if he said that aloud, but then again, there was no one there to hear it. “I want to go back.”

He squeezed his eyes shut in vain, trying to will himself back to sleep. Then, he remembered the little bottle sitting in the bathroom, sleeping pills Dick had given him once that he refused to use. He threw the covers back and found the thing resting on the sink. He tore it open and shook one, two, three, four pills into his hands. Tipping his head back, he swallowed them dry, then stumbled back into bed.

“The arcade,” he said to himself, burying his limbs under that T-shirt that still somehow smelled like Kon. “We were at the arcade.”

                                                     _________

“Cloning attempt ninety-seven unsuccessful.”

“Diagnostic.”

“Protein failure in link-”

“You know what? No. Forget it. I don’t want to know. Just run it again.”

“Suggested solution-”

“I don’t care! I don’t care, just try. Again.”

“Cloning attempt ninety-eight initiated.”

[angstandhappiness]

LMAO CORRECT

Kon and tim will never be allowed to be together because tim is a certified grade A freak wrapped in the strongest autistic rizz I've ever seen and kon is way too much of a "standing by my pookie" type of guy to safely handle all that. Like, beyond a shadow of a doubt, kon can handle tim's freak without breaking a sweat—the issue is what they would become if allowed to dedicate that energy to each other. Like kon does not care to reel that in at all. The safety in question here is the safety of other ppl

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

I mean I think the danger to society is part of the appeal.

So a couple galaxy's, planets, and people get murdered so what.

They are active in the community they get a pass.

Kon and tim will never be allowed to be together because tim is a certified grade A freak wrapped in the strongest autistic rizz I've ever seen and kon is way too much of a "standing by my pookie" type of guy to safely handle all that. Like, beyond a shadow of a doubt, kon can handle tim's freak without breaking a sweat—the issue is what they would become if allowed to dedicate that energy to each other. Like kon does not care to reel that in at all. The safety in question here is the safety of other ppl