The news that Timothy Drake, Gotham’s cryptid millionaire, has shot the Joker dead during a public live-stream hits the world like a freight train—and that is just the opening salvo of his bugfuck plan. Maybe there exists, in the multiverse, a configuration of Jason Todd who will weather this with decorum, dignity and self-respect. This version of Jason Todd decides that the life of an academic is not, really, all that rewarding. In contrast, the life of Timothy Drake’s live-in house-husband is looking more appealing by the second.

"So, uh . . ." Kon says, skeptically eyeing the softly glowing rock in his hand. Metallo, like, threw it at his head. He has no idea why. "Is this supposed to do something or . . . ?" "It's pink," Kara says leerily, staying very firmly back.

“That one doesn’t have a home,” this time the doctor who had disconnected the alien’s IVs was the one who spoke. “From the pod she crash landed in, it looks like she came from a world on the verge of destruction.” The baby started crying again and both Tim and Kon shot a glare at him. Kon shushed the baby again, “It’s okay, you can stay with us until we find you a new home. I’m Kon, do you have a name?” Tim glared at him for exposing his name in front of Lexcorp employees, but Kon ignored him. The kid snuffled and nodded, “Adeen’a.” - OR the accidental baby acquisition fic literally no one asked for.

And, well. He gets impatient when he’s already in pain. He’s still got fifteen minutes until the meeting is set to begin, and the chances of him slapping Mr. Smith-Harguson so hard that the man’s toupee flies off are rising exponentially by the second. Yeah, that settles it. He needs an excuse to get out of here, and he needs it fast. - for the prompt 'jason todd, lover of fake kidnappings, meets tim drake, lover of chaos', but it... got out of hand. happy pride

"There's no point in killing Superboy," Match says reasonably. "It's not like you'd care if he died." "The Agenda thinks I wouldn't care if Superboy died?" Superman asks incredulously, just staring at him. "Why, because he's a clone?" "Because I reported back my interactions with you when I was pretending to be him," Match corrects, puzzled by the vehemence of the response. "And also the lack thereof." "What?" Superman says, still just staring.