the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be a part of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.
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Oh my dear, sweet children. The Commodore 64 came out in 1982. This was produced on a typewriter and probably mimeographed. And while it may seem funny now, it took more courage to write and distribute this than you will ever know.
Children, in the olden days fanfiction was written on a typewriter, copied and sent by snail mail. Getting one one of those letters from across the world was every bit as exciting as getting a notification that your favorite writer posted a new fic.
It’s been said before, but the fact that this fic begins with the dialogue assertion “We’re by no means setting a precedent” is endlessly amusing to me.
Diane Marchant changed all our lives. May she rest in peace.
The precedent line is especially amusing when you bear in mind that “A Fragment Out of Time” is not only the first Star Trek slashfic to be published in a widely distributed magazine: it’s believed by some to be the first slashfic of any kind to be widely published.
In 1974 it was illegal to send pornography through the USPS. So distributing fic like this via mailed newsletter was literally dangerous. And they knew it.
Imagine a young regency era lady trying to write a polite enough break-up letter to a guy she's actually glad she doesn't have to marry since a better option showed up, but trying to make it sound less mean while still being honest. Showing the latest draft of the letter to a friend like "how do I make this nicer without sounding like I still want him" and the friend is like "no that's fine, sprinkle a few drops of water on it so it looks like you were crying while writing it."
And the other is like "Victoria what the shit that's fucked up, where did you learn that. It's brilliant. I will do it right away."
And the guy receives the letter while he happens to be hanging with a friend, and reads it aloud, voice trailing off as he starts to realise he's getting dumped. And noticing the few dainty droplets smudging the ink here and there, he frowns and licks one, going "Aha! Water! Georgia you venomous vixen, I had not imagined you would resort to such low and base trickery."
And his friend looks at him like dude why the fuck can you tell what genuine tear blots taste like.
When I was in grad school, one of my professors shared how to write a scientific paper (unsolicited, during a discussion on pelicans).
First, he said, you write the methods. You’ve been doing the methods for months, you know what goes there. You know what questions you’re trying to answer and how you went about answering them.
Now that you’ve done that, write the results. Do your analysis. Take some time to bask in having done that and chew it over.
Next: the introduction. What information do you need to set up the conclusion? Do you need to write the six worst sentences known to man as a draft conclusion so you can go back that up in the introduction? Do that.
Write that conclusion. Tie things up, you’ve done amazing. It’s looking good! Unfortunately. The hardest part is yet to come:
The abstract. An unholy melange of introduction, results, and conclusion. The thing that 90% of readers are going to stop after reading. The ultimate test of your ability to communicate your science. Thank goodness you have all this prep work done and aren’t trying to create it out of nothing! Thank goodness you didn’t try to write it first because it was the first thing on the page!
Anyway I’ve taken that approach to a lot of other kinds of writing since. I write the part I know (because of months of development) and then what that will mean, and then I work out what I need to support that, and then I write the part everyone will read.
I struggled immensely with writing until finally, after 30 years of writing for school and work, I understood the following.
These three things are different:
* the order of the words on the page
* the order the reader will read the words
* the order you should write the words.
If you try to write the words in the order of the page or the order they are read first, there will be PAIN.
(You should of course think about the other two as you write, but that’s not the same thing.)
Even more than that, how much writing you have to do that the reader never even sees because it gets cut, but you still had to write to produce what the reader does see.
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”I have this artistic idea but not the skills to achieve it to the standard I want.”
congrats! Now you have a motif! A recurring theme! A focus for your art! Something to haunt you!
Seventeen still lives of dandelions? Three hundred poems about grief? A sketchbook dedicated to your grandmother’s house? Two books trying to unravel the complexities of familial relationships?
Don’t let the fear of it not being perfect on the first try stop you from being Weird About It!
Please view Hokusai's gradual working towards The Great Wave Off Kanagawa, over a period of 39 years.
An early exploration of the themes Hokusai would keep coming back to is Spring in Enoshima, done in 1793 when he was 33. The wave is small and there are no boats, but Mt Fuji is clear in the background, and Enoshima is in Kanagawa, so we are clearly beginning to work towards something here.
A second pass, eleven years later in 1803 when he was 44. The title of this one begins to get more familiar: The View of Honmoku Off Kanazawa. It has a towering wave over a smaller boat, but Mt Fuji is not present, and the boat is considerably larger and has a sail. But the feeling of danger in the wave and the smallness of the boat are here, and of course the general composition is definitely recognizable.
This is A View Of Express Delivery Boats, done in 1805, merely two years later at age 46. Here we find the wave and the boats almost exactly as we'll find them in The Great Wave Off Kanagawa, though Mt Fuji isn't present, and the location is uncertain. And it's a good picture! The wave is threatening, the boats are small -- but the feeling of "ocean" isn't really there yet, is it? It's unlikely this picture would have become a classic for the ages. But that's okay, there's still time.
And here we have it, a full 26 years later, done by Hokusai in 1831 at the age of 72. The Great Wave Off Kanagawa, one of the most recognizable pieces of art in the world. The boats are there, the mountain is there, the wave is there, and the FEELING is there. He did it! He reached the apex of his ongoing motif and theme!
Or did he? Because the whole point of a motif is not that you're striving to get to the perfect version of it, the one idealized image you carried in your head all along, and when it is done, you are also done. Hokusai is on record at the age of 73 saying he'd only just begun to feel like he was learning how to draw things properly, and that "if I keep up my efforts, I will have even a better understanding when I was 80 and by 90 will have penetrated to the heart of things. At 100, I may reach a level of divine understanding, and if I live decades beyond that, everything I paint — dot and line — will be alive." He had drawn The Great Wave, but he didn't believe he was finished -- he thought that he was still just beginning to get started.
And he wasn't finished with his ocean motif, either. Please check out his Mt Fuji At Sea, done in 1834 at the age of 75.
It's all there; Mt Fuji, the ocean, the wave. The boats are gone, but replaced with birds, flying with the wave instead of fighting against it. It's not as famous as The Great Wave Off Kanagawa, but that's not what motifs are for -- each successive work does not have to surpass the previous in terms of success, especially in terms of external success. They're there for you to keep playing with, keep remixing and re-experiencing, for as long as you think you have something to say.
I also want everybody to know that Google and most of the internet think that all of those paintings bar the last one are called "The Great Wave Off Kanagawa", so I had to do a sort of middling deep dive just to find their actual names. And then I was like "I don't think those translations are very accurate", so I went on a second quest to retranslate them, which was particularly difficult with painting three (A View Of Express Delivery Boats) because for some reason he titled that one entirely in hiragana, and it's all archaic words that were very hard to chase down without their corresponding kanji. Google suggested "the push-off is a transportation route", which wasn't particularly helpful.
All of which is to say that I probably spent a bit too much time on all of that, but it was fun; and at least I know what those paintings are called now.
also do not under any circumstances use Tinyzone.tv it has lots of tv shows and movie options as well as multiple servers in case one has too much traffic
comrades! do-absolutely-not go to divicast.com! do-absolutely-not watch the rings of power, deadverine/wolverpool, interview with a vampire, do-absolutely-not watch every other popular tv show and movie here! totally free!
A Book of Creatures by @a-book-of-creatures doesn't update these days but is another thing along these lines, really huge, fully illustrated all by the author and cites all sources
Nothing more embarrassing than accidentally using a big word wrong because now I'm simultaneously both stupid and pretentious, the worst combination of all time
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“villain attempts to go back in time to kill superman as a small child, gets shot in the face by ma kent, who buries him behind the barn with the others” would probably have niche appeal as a comic but i don’t care, i want it
The first time a man from the future showed up at Martha Kent’s house, Clark Kent was two years old.
According to his birth certificate, anyway. She just kind of accepted that the details were a little fudged. Relativity, and all.
Maybe the stranger would have succeeded in whatever it was he wanted to do, except that he really did just show up. Appeared, like a ghost made flesh, right in the backyard. Clark, thank goodness, was out in the fields with Jonathan. He couldn’t bear to be alone, that boy, and they could never bear to leave him.
Which left Martha free to shoot the ghostly intruder in the face.
Martha had not always considered herself a shoot first, ask questions later sort of a person. But that was before she found a baby in a spaceship where her corn was supposed to be.
They’d switch off, Jonathan and her, who got Clark and who got the shotgun. Martha got the shotgun more often than not. Guns made her husband uncomfortable. She was hardly a fan, but she’d always been a terrible pacifist. Too determined to defend herself.
The sight of all that blood and brain and bone was still nauseating. She compartmentalized, told herself it was no different from slaughtering a cow; didn’t think about riot gear or tear gas or the friends she’d lost or all the things she’d moved away from when her heart couldn’t take it any longer. This was different. This was her son.
She prodded the corpse with her foot. It remained a corpse. A real nasty looking corpse, all big and burly and holding a gun much too large. She didn’t like making assumptions based on appearances, but she didn’t imagine he’d been coming for anything nice. She bent down to search his pockets, found a metal wallet and flipped it open.
Born 2018.
Well, hell. Wasn’t that just a kick in the pants?
Probably she ought to have been a bit more unsettled than she was. But she’d been waiting two years for someone to show up on her doorstep, men in black or UFOs or something. Hell, she’d half expected her sweet little boy to hatch into something worse.
Just because she brought home space babies didn’t mean she was a damn fool.
Jonathan had rejoined her in long strides, was holding Clark in such a way that he couldn’t see the corpse on the ground. “Well, shit,” he said.
“Eyup,” Martha agreed.
“Don’t look government.”
“Nope.”
“We burying him?”
“I’ll bury him,” Martha said, standing up. “You get Clark inside and read him a book or something. I don’t want him seeing any of this, getting him messed up in the head.”
“You sure? Looks heavy.”
“That’s why we have a wheelbarrow. I’ll stick him out behind the barn, might as well keep all our secrets in one place.”
Martha had a long time to think as she dug a time traveler’s grave. There were a lot of reasons someone might travel back in time trying to kill her kid. The first was her instinct as a mother, which was: he was a fucking asshole. Who killed a kid? Fucking assholes, that was who.
Now, it was also possible that her sweet little boy grew up to be some kind of space Hitler. She didn’t think she’d raise that kind of a kid, but she didn’t suppose there was any parent who set out to raise a Hitler.
Still didn’t sit right with her. She didn’t much like the idea of killing baby Hitler, either.
It all started when Talia came to Gotham with a gift.
The gift in question was a twelve year old boy.
Bruce stared at the boy who was almost the exact replica of Damian if not for the blue eyes and longer hair. He looked utterly perplexed at the sight of Bruce, tilting his head before frowning at his mother with a visibly displeased look.
"Beloved, may I introduce you to Danyal, our Damian's twin brother. He was... Away... On a mission until recently." Talia hummed, a hand on Danyal's back.
"You... You didn't think to tell me about him when you told me about Damian?" Shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked down at the boy who looked a little more like him than Talia and felt himself softening. "Hello Danyal."
"Hello."
Talia smiled, before her expression fell. "A little warning, beloved. The twins do not get along. Damian is quite the competitive child and Danyal... Well, he's the nicer one if I must say." She shrugged, running her fingers through her son's hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Go on now, Najmi As-Sagheer (my little star)."
"Ummi... Must I join them? I am perfectly fine with remaining in the league." Danyal muttered, eye twitching but his expression was quickly schooled into neutrality.
"Yes, Danyal." She sighed, "I have no intention of letting father keep you."
Bruce raised a brow at her words.
"That is a conversation for another time, habibi." Talia lazily insisted, gently pushing Danyal towards Bruce.
Bruce, for all he's lived, immediately recognized a feral cat in the form a child. Yep. Another Damian. That was seemingly the nicer one.
But he was scruffy little thing who was being called little star by his mother. Bruce blinked, offering his hand to Danyal (like how a person would do by letting a cat sniff his hand to see if they were safe).
Danyal, more twitchy and annoyed than his brother, looked at the hand like it had personally offended him.
And that is how Batman brought home another child while holding him by the scruff.
(Danny hated everyone except for Alfred—both cat and butler)
Danyal was a much quieter person compared to Damian. Unlike his brother who had practically came into their lives guns blazing and declaring that he was the rightful heir to the bat, Danyal mainly ignored them. He would glare, snarl, and scowl, but not in the way Damian did. The kid was obviously threatened by them, but more for his own safety rather than inheritance.
He avoided them like the plague, only welcoming the company of Alfred and occasionally Cass.
He didn't join in on the vigilante business, opting to stay back with Oracle and just quietly direct them on their missions. It was strange in all honesty.
They didn't know much about Danyal, aside from the fact that his mother called him little star for his natural love of space. That he liked to tinker with gadgets and make his own weapons. That he really liked fudge.
Aside from that, the kid was quiet and was usually hiding out in his room.
Tim wasn't particularly thrilled to have another demon brat in the family. He avoided Danyal as much as possible expecting for the boy to be just like his brother and attack him.
But apparently not.
It's one of those unfortunate times that Tim's sleep deprivation and overload on energy drinks gets him benched by Alfred and not Bruce. No one particularly wanted to argue with their beloved butler/grandpa so Tim was stuck in place. It was a much quieter night than usual, almost peaceful (as much as Gotham can get).
Babs was relieved of her duties to have a night off, rest and relax and such, while Tim manned the bat computer in Oracle's place. He almost didn't notice the mop of black hair that suddenly appeared beside him.
Tim didn't want to admit it, but he flinched at Danyal's presence and how he was quietly standing there with a tray of coffee and cookies. Blue eyes blinked at him, silently pushing the tray forward to offer Tim the lone cup (most likely for him) and the plate of cookies.
Suspicious, Tim narrowed his eyes. "Alfred wouldn't make me coffee after benching me for this kind of thing."
Danyal shrugged, "Made it myself. Thought you'd need it since the others will be gone for a while."
"That's poisoned."
"It's not." Danyal frowned, immediately taking the cup and taking a couple sips himself before once again offering it to Tim.
Now, Tim wasn't stupid enough to ignore the possibility of Danyal having some tolerance to poison. But Tim was also tolerant to a lot of poisons so might as well.
When taking one sip, he was already feeling weird. One, there was no poison. Two, it was actually pretty good.
Danyal just sat there and stared at the screen, munching on cookies and pointing at the screen whenever Robin started to stray from the patrol route. Tim had a lot of fun reportingtattling to Bruce about it.
Eventually, it became a routine.
Danyal always sat beside Tim. Quiet and just offering random stuff, either food, some little gadget he made, or just the most bizarre stuff he found while at school.
Tim learned many things about his weird little brother. How cameras go crazy around him. How he had his reasons for not being touched. How Danyal was more silent than Cass. How Danyal vanished and reappeared at times.
(The glowing green eyes were the most concerning.)
He never really took notice of how Danyal started to gravitate to him. Always with him, barely without.
(Tim refused to admit that he was just the same.)
"Can I go on patrol with you?" Danyal asked, tugging at his Red Robin suit with a curious look. "I wanna meet Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn."
And Tim didn't really see much of a problem with that. Danyal was a highly trained assassin that Ra's apparently trusted to go on a solo mission while Damian had to be whisked away from the league. It wasn't too absurd for Tim to just shrug and let his kid brother tag along.
He was also very sure that his baby brother was an eldritch being with how the shadows seemed to rise around him. Yeah, the baby was a cryptid amongst a family of supposed cryptids. Very fitting.
It's a nice night. With Danny running amok with Tim, clearly having fun. But that one looks of sadness didn't escape Tim when Danny paused and looked to the sky with longing.
Tim remembers how Danny rambled about the stars in their shared moments, where it's just them.
Tim remembers how Danny would describe the sky in Nanda Parbar and how he often snuck out just to see it.
Tim remembers how much his little brother likes space and turns to the cloudy sky of Gotham that hides the stars.
Tim remembers how he was often depraved of the brotherly love he wanted. How he didn't get the full experience of having an older brother.
"You okay, little star?"
Danyal snapped his head towards Tim, eyes blown wide and flashing green (he knows that wasn't normal but he ignores that in favor to the way Danyal visibly softens at the nickname).
"'m okay, akhi." Danyal muttered, following after Tim after adjusting his own hood.
And it's like his heart stops.
Yep.
Tim has had Danyal for barely a year and he was willing to throw hands with Ra's, Talia, and Bruce for him.
"C'mon, qalbi(my heart). Batburger's still open."
He barely noticed the shift after that. But others think it's a glaring change that often made them stop and stare.
Danyal went to Tim whenever he needed anything.
If Danyal wasn't in bed, you'd find him snuggled up to Tim.
Danyal hated it when people touched him... Except for Tim.
Danyal liked Tim the most.
The day Dick thought it was a good idea to call Danyal 'Danny' (a nickname that was only used by Tim and Alfred), he almost got stabbed. Well, that's where all the stabbiness went to.
Safe to say, Tim was Danny's favorite.
And Danny was Tim's.
"Drake! What have you done to my brother?!" Damian pointed a katana at Tim, who lazily glanced his way before turning back to Danny who was comfortably snuggled up to him and watching Blue while Tim scrolled on Tiktok.
"I haven't done anything to Danny, demon brat. Now shoo!" Tim's irritation could be heard from a mile away, shamelessly shooing Damian away with a flick of his wrist. Then the next second, he was combing his fingers through Danny's hair and listening to his younger brother make a purring noise.
(Another point of investigation because that is not fucking normal, Tim. Cute though!)
"I refuse to believe that Danyal would prefer you over me!"
"You're just salty that he stabs you like you stab me." Tim waved him off again, watching as Danny yawned and continued to ignore everyone else.
The click of a camera immediately alerts him and he's tugging Danny down before the much younger boy lunges at Dick.
"Woah! What's up with him?" Dick nervously asked, instinctively raising his phone above his head.
"Delete that!" Tim snarled, pulling Danny closer and guiding his brothers face to his shoulder. "You know he hates it when people take pictures without consent!"
(Tim doesn't tell them that something goes every wrong with the footage if Danny was ever in the picture.)
"Dick." Tim warned, effortlessly picking up Danny, because yes, his seemingly cryptid baby brother could become weightless, and snatched Dick's phone. Yep. Instead of Danny, there was a very strange figure, a glitching silhouette of black and green. He deletes it immediately.
Dick was pouring, "I don't have any pics of Danny—"
"Don't call me that, Richard." Danny scowled, clinging to Tim like a koala. He was strangely more child-like than Damian, muttering about annoying people who interrupted bonding time. (Dick was just forced to pout.)
"Danyal." Damian crossed his arms, scowling at Danny who was still comfortably cuddled up to Tim. "It is not appropriate to cling to Drake in such a way! You will embarrass our mother and father if you are seen acting like a petulant child!"
Tim wanted to argue that no, he wouldn't embarrass Talia and Bruce by being a kid, but Danny just grabbed a cookie from nowhere (note to self, add possible teleportation powers to cryptid baby) and shoved it into his mouth.
Danny just yawned, fixing Damian with a lazy glare.
"Tuhali, can you shut up?"
Damian stood stock still, while Jason and Bruce choked on their own spit. Jason slapping a hand over his mouth and Bruce just staring at his twins like the apocalypse was about to return.
"What did you just call me?"
Danny yawne again, "My spleen."
Tim knew what Tuhali meant. Of course he fucking knew Arabic! But to think that his cryptid baby brother was straight up calling Damian his spleen?
The spleen that Tim doesn't have.
The spleen that's important to the immune system but you can survive without it?
Tim grinned, grabbing his cryptid baby and made a run for it.
Yep.
Danny was definitely his favorite.
Credits to: @strangergraphics for the dividers used.
masterpost shhhh migraine, hell week, worked like 14 hours yesterday. no editing please <3
Kon leaned against the open door frame between the hall and kitchen. He watched Lois peel an apple with practiced ease; Jon hated apple skin. Kon had no idea where Jon got that from, considering Clark would eat most things and Lois was snacking on the peel as she worked.
“Need anything, honey?” Lois asked without taking her eyes off the apple and the sharp knife in her hand.
The nickname always made Kon feel equally warmed and uncomfortable. Honey—someone Lois cared about. She had cared since about fifteen minutes after she’d met him. The first fifteen she’d spent chewing Clark out.
Kon cleared his throat. “Yeah. I actually wanted to ask you for some advice, if you’ve got a moment.”
“Welcome to my parlor, pull up a chair,” Lois said with a grin. “Want an apple slice?”
“Sure.” Kon took the offered slice and went to lean against an open spot of counter. He took the excuse of eating the snack to try and gather his thoughts. “So, um, what sort of activity is good for a first date with someone you already know?”
Lois almost fumbled both the apple and the knife with how quickly she spun to look at him. “No! Really? Who made the move first, you or Danny?”
Kon crossed his arms. “That obvious?”
“Honey, you forget I fell for a Midwestern dork myself, I know what that looks like,” Lois said as she motioned with the knife. “Besides, you were cuddling with him. You only let your group cuddle with you and even then you shove them off half the time.”
Kon opened is mouth to protest, but couldn’t actually find any words to defend himself with so he just frowned.
“Well?” Lois asked with a teasing smile. “Who made the move?”
“Me,” Kon grumbled. “A little one, but then Danny made me talk about it, and I maybe kissed him.”
“Look at you go! Proud of you, kid,” Lois said.
Which was a surprise.
“…yeah?”
“Yeah. Like I said, it was clear that you were sweet on him. It’s too easy to do nothing about a crush. I’m proud that you did something about it,” Lois said. It sounded true.
“I… thanks,” Kon said. He rubbed at his cheek. “But I don’t know what to do for a date. Dates weren’t exactly something that Lex had downloaded into my brain like math.”
“I wouldn’t trust anything that Lex thought about dates anyways,” Lois said dryly.
Kon thought abut that for a moment. “Yeah, okay, true. But that still doesn’t help.”
“We’re getting there!” Lois said and tossed another piece of apple at him.
He caught it and munched on it as a way to stay quiet.
“A movie date is still a classic,” she said. “But if Danny is feeling better, there’s always bowling or roller skating. There’s this grate place—I did a story on the women there once—that’s a roller derby rink but when there aren’t matches, it’s just a place to skate. They use the funds to help pay for the team, but it’s also set up to be a safe place for queer teens and young adults to hang out at. That might be something fun.”
Kon thought about it. “…that could be fun, yeah. Do you remember the name of it?”
Lois shook her head as she piled all the apple splices onto a plate with some cheese slices. “Not off the top of my head, but I can pull it up at work tomorrow and text you to it, okay?”
“Yeah, that’s great,” Kon said and stole a slice of cheese. “We wouldn’t do anything before Friday anyways, bit chem test coming up.”
“Ugh, chem, please tell me you don’t need any help with that one.”
“Nope, that I did get downloaded into my brain,” Kon said with a grin.
“Well, about time Lex did something useful,” Lois joked as she headed off to find Jon with the snack plate. “Other than making you I mean, honey!”
Kon ducked his head an rubbed at his cheek. Under his breath he mumbled, “…thanks, Mom.”
Pt3 of the Danny is the 99th attempted clone Tim made of Kon. Kon learns about Danny.
Relevant info: Kon was dead closer to a year and a half in this au, and this happens a few months after his revival.
[Pt2: here] [Pt4: here]
So Tim has admittedly been putting off meeting up with the Titans. Everyone has settled back into the new normal. Too much has happened for it to look anything like before, but the other 3 Titans have been hanging out semi-regularly, and Tim turns down their invites 3 of 4 times. He knows it's starting to hurt their feelings, and he hates that.
But... he's scared to admit he's a father now. A father to a clone of one of them. He's not sure how to bring it up. Cassie never asked if he was successful, probably just assumed he failed because there isn't a third Superboy flying around. Jokes on her. Danny isn't going to be a Superboy. He's not allowed to even think about being a hero or vigilante until he's 14 at the earliest, and Tim is going to help him find his own name if he chooses that path. He won't be a Robin or Superboy. He won't live in the shadow of those legacies if Tim can help it.
None of that is relevant for the here and now, though. Tim got Jason to babysit Danny and finally agreed to a hang out with the Titans. He asked Danny for his opinion first before making his decision and got the go ahead. So, Tim is finally going to come clean.
Tim barely makes it into the tower when he's tackled by his friends.
"Tim! You're here!" Bart cheers.
"Yeah, it's good to see you guys too. Sorry I haven't been very present." Tim fidgets. "I've been busy... I also haven't been honest..."
"Tim?" Cassie sounds concerned. And Tim just can't. He extracts himself from the puppy pile. He can't make himself give eye contact. He's sure his guilt and shame are written all over his body language.
"Tim, you can tell us anything." Kon sounds super genuine. Tim takes a deep grounding breath.
"Okay, let's do this like a bandaid." Tim finally looks at them, focusing mostly on Kon. "I have a son. He's technically Kon's, too."
He gets the dubious pleasure of watching his three idiots look at his abdomen, as if he gave birth.
"Why-? Kon, we never fucked!? What the fuck guys??" He sputters, waving his hands in front of him.
"Then how-" Cassie realizes. "Oh!"
"Oh?? What do you mean??" Bart is looking between them and vibrating in confusion. Kon is just looking like a confused and concerned puppy.
"Okay, so, I may have had a breakdown with everyone dying or going missing." Tim grimaces. "And while I was fully aware that even if I succeeded, it wouldn't be Kon, I still tried to clone him. And, um, I did manage to succeed in the end."
"Fuck, Tim.." Kon starts.
"Look, I was in a really fucking dark place and needed even just a piece of good I lost." Tim hugs himself, self loathing burning him from the inside out. "Everyone was turning their back on me, I just needed something, anything, to keep going."
"Fuck, I should have helped..." Cassie bites her lip, chewing on her guilty conscious.
"It's fine. No one was listening. Don't beat yourself up over it. You were in a bad spot, too." Tim gives a humorless laugh. "Danny was my 99th attempt. And my last attempt, if I'm honest. I could feel myself breaking more with each failure. On a fucking whim, I decided to make the 99th attempt a baby instead of trying for a teenager, and it worked. I fucked up a bit, I forgot to adjust the knowledge download to that of a 1 year old, but he was alive. He's the best thing to ever happen to me. I was scared to tell you. I'm sorry-"
"Tim.." Kon cuts him off, and Tim snaps his mouth shut. "I.. I'm honestly not sure how to feel about you cloning me, but I'd like to meet him. What's his name?"
Tim rapidly blinks back tears. "Aedan Drake, he prefers being called Danny. I.. I didn't add Kent because I don't trust Clark with him or give him an El name, I wanted him to understand kryptonian language and culture first. I... I also wanted Danny to be old enough to make the decision over his name himself. I don't want him to be treated like you were. The house of El were so awful to you."
"I understand, Tim." Kon steps towards Tim, "Can.. Can I hug you?"
Tim nods and is swept into a tight hug. He feels something give emotionally, and he sobs into his shoulder. "I fucking love him so much."
"Tell me about him." Kon says softly. He can feel Bart and Cassie hoving, unsure what to do, but unwilling to leave.
"He's physically around 3 now. He loves ghosts and space and named the wolf plushy I bought him on his first day alive Wulf." There's some chuckles over that. "He's sassy and petty, but insanely sweet and tries to help out with any and all tasks. I see so much of both of us in him. Nature vs Nurture is a messy bitch. You remember what I said my start as Robin was like?"
"How you had to babysit a grown ass man and force him into better habits?" Cassie snarks.
"Karma's a funny bitch. Danny started doing the same shit to me as soon as he figured out how to walk." Tim giggles. "Anytime we weren't in danger, he'd force me to take care of injuries and to eat and sleep. And I'd do it because what kind of monster denies a baby trying to be helpful... plus he gets really stressed and depressed if he can't help."
Tim grips the back of Kon's shirt. "I don't understand how he developed my people pleaser tendencies so early on. We were stuck on LoA bases when he first started doing everything in his power to help me. I was purposely being a little shit to our "hosts" at the time. So it wasn't a surprise that he developed a Robin's need to troll, but he only saw me be nice to him."
"The LoA??" Kon asks in alarm.
"It was a rough year..." Tim scowls. "And if I see Ra's again, I'm gutting him. B's rules be damned."
"What happened?" Cassie asks, suddenly a lot closer.
"He's a creep, a pedo, and a child abuser." Kon rubs Tim's suddenly very stiff back and shoulders. "I could handle him being creepy towards me. While gross and awful to have a disgusting 300 or something year old man trying to wife me-"
"Excuse me???"
"He WHAT?"
"-I'm more pissed I couldn't protect Danny. I don't know what that piece of shit did when I couldn't take Danny with me, but Danny is linked to the pit now. He luckily doesn't have pit rage like Jason, but he can calm Jason's pit and apparently glows according to Duke." Tim sobs. "I should have killed the man when I had a chance. I don't know what he did to Danny!"
"It's not your fault, Tim." Kon hugs Tim tightly, it's almost painful. "You were in a tough spot and doing your best to keep you both alive."
"Just focus on healing and moving on." Bart says while running a hand through Tim's hair. Cassie rubs both Tim and Kon's backs as Tim gets himself under control.
"Can.. can I meet him?" Kon whispers.
"I'd love for you to meet him." Tim sniffles. "He was nervous you'd hate him for existing. I apparently passed on my stupid anxiety. I couldn't quite get him to believe me when I told him he wouldn't be who you'd be mad at if you got mad. He wants to meet you, but I accidentally made the most jaded baby in the world."
"A Super raised by a Bat is going to be terrifying." Bart giggles. "We'll have to make sure he doesn't become a supervillain."
"Meh. He's too cute. If he goes evil, all he has to do is pout and he'll instantly win." Tim jokes, wiggling out of the hug. "Want to see pictures?"
There's a very strong positive response. The next 3 hours finds Tim showing off pictures and explaining the stories behind them, his team melting at how cute his son is. Tim feels the lightest he's felt in a while. He does have to promise Bart and Cassie to bring Danny over once Kon and Danny meet one on one first.
What Tim doesn't know is Kon is absolutely obsessed with and slightly horny over this parental side of Tim. He's fully daydreaming of the 3 of them living together and being disgustingly domestic the whole time Tim is showing off Danny. Cassie can tell what Kon is thinking about and is amused.
Once Tim leaves, the Titans go to the training room and fuck up some bots because of the rage they feel on Tim and Danny's behalf. They all agree to be as petty as possible to any LoA members they come across and to murder Ra's the moment there's an opportunity to do so without the JL knowing. Tim isn't the only unhinged one on this team. That's why they work so well together.
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masterpost shhhh migraine, hell week, worked like 14 hours yesterday. no editing please <3
Kon leaned against the open door frame between the hall and kitchen. He watched Lois peel an apple with practiced ease; Jon hated apple skin. Kon had no idea where Jon got that from, considering Clark would eat most things and Lois was snacking on the peel as she worked.
“Need anything, honey?” Lois asked without taking her eyes off the apple and the sharp knife in her hand.
The nickname always made Kon feel equally warmed and uncomfortable. Honey—someone Lois cared about. She had cared since about fifteen minutes after she’d met him. The first fifteen she’d spent chewing Clark out.
Kon cleared his throat. “Yeah. I actually wanted to ask you for some advice, if you’ve got a moment.”
“Welcome to my parlor, pull up a chair,” Lois said with a grin. “Want an apple slice?”
“Sure.” Kon took the offered slice and went to lean against an open spot of counter. He took the excuse of eating the snack to try and gather his thoughts. “So, um, what sort of activity is good for a first date with someone you already know?”
Lois almost fumbled both the apple and the knife with how quickly she spun to look at him. “No! Really? Who made the move first, you or Danny?”
Kon crossed his arms. “That obvious?”
“Honey, you forget I fell for a Midwestern dork myself, I know what that looks like,” Lois said as she motioned with the knife. “Besides, you were cuddling with him. You only let your group cuddle with you and even then you shove them off half the time.”
Kon opened is mouth to protest, but couldn’t actually find any words to defend himself with so he just frowned.
“Well?” Lois asked with a teasing smile. “Who made the move?”
“Me,” Kon grumbled. “A little one, but then Danny made me talk about it, and I maybe kissed him.”
“Look at you go! Proud of you, kid,” Lois said.
Which was a surprise.
“…yeah?”
“Yeah. Like I said, it was clear that you were sweet on him. It’s too easy to do nothing about a crush. I’m proud that you did something about it,” Lois said. It sounded true.
“I… thanks,” Kon said. He rubbed at his cheek. “But I don’t know what to do for a date. Dates weren’t exactly something that Lex had downloaded into my brain like math.”
“I wouldn’t trust anything that Lex thought about dates anyways,” Lois said dryly.
Kon thought abut that for a moment. “Yeah, okay, true. But that still doesn’t help.”
“We’re getting there!” Lois said and tossed another piece of apple at him.
He caught it and munched on it as a way to stay quiet.
“A movie date is still a classic,” she said. “But if Danny is feeling better, there’s always bowling or roller skating. There’s this grate place—I did a story on the women there once—that’s a roller derby rink but when there aren’t matches, it’s just a place to skate. They use the funds to help pay for the team, but it’s also set up to be a safe place for queer teens and young adults to hang out at. That might be something fun.”
Kon thought about it. “…that could be fun, yeah. Do you remember the name of it?”
Lois shook her head as she piled all the apple splices onto a plate with some cheese slices. “Not off the top of my head, but I can pull it up at work tomorrow and text you to it, okay?”
“Yeah, that’s great,” Kon said and stole a slice of cheese. “We wouldn’t do anything before Friday anyways, bit chem test coming up.”
“Ugh, chem, please tell me you don’t need any help with that one.”
“Nope, that I did get downloaded into my brain,” Kon said with a grin.
“Well, about time Lex did something useful,” Lois joked as she headed off to find Jon with the snack plate. “Other than making you I mean, honey!”
Kon ducked his head an rubbed at his cheek. Under his breath he mumbled, “…thanks, Mom.”
