private & selective roleplay blog for 𝖪𝖮𝖭 - 𝖤𝖫 of detective comics . headcanon based \ comic-canon adjacent . minors d.n.i. this blog is 𝗽𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘃𝘆 & created mostly for friends ! but all are welcome .
✶ 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 / 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 : @superel's 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇 .
@thirdson's 𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝗈𝖻𝗂𝗇 .
𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝘆 𝗼𝗻 . . . finding one's identity , nature vs nurture , the horrors of genetic engineering / eugenics , existing in someone's shadow , chosen family , aliens in a human world , clinging to hope , heroism as a burden and a privilege
✶ CONTENT WARNING . . . triggering subjects + discussions of sensitive topics will be mentioned in this portrayal (both i.c. and o.o.c.), including but not limited to : sexual assault, murder/death, violence, lack of bodily autonomy and abusers, extreme mental/physical distress, sexual themes and interactions, racism, homophobia, xenophobia, etc.
✶ ON " CANON " KON-EL . . . i would prefer it if new writing friends approached kon as an OC and did not assume to know things based off other content. in this portrayal, there are many similarities to 90s comic!kon and some inspiration from other sources, but i have made significant changes to "canon". i write, essentially, an a.u. version of kon-el built on extensive plotting between myself and rocky.
✶ SHIPPING . . . i am multiship, but sexually explicit content WILL NOT be written or mentioned in verses where kon is a minor. this is ok in verses where he has grown into adulthood. chemistry is a must.
✶ THREADS, ASKS, INTERACTIONS . . . my inbox is always open ! any meme anywhere ever on tumblr, (even if its not on this blog), is welcome to be sent in + personalized asks. an ask is the easiest way to start an interaction, as i do not post starter calls. inbox is available 24/7 365.
- i tend to write multi - para responses. one - liners are where creativity goes to die. PLOTTING IS PREFERRED. reply to me immediately, or reply to me 3 months later, either way i'm happy to be here writing with you.
- please do not follow me if you write majority in 1st or 2nd person. i write in 3rd person (aside from internal dialogue for my muse), and do not wish to interact with 1st or 2nd prose writers.
✶ D.N.I. . . . negan, homelander & soldier boy, katherine pierce, tate langdon, 13rw, the joker, riverdale, and euphoria, muses who use problematic faceclaims.
“you say that now, but have you had a cucumber sandwich? they're an acquired taste.” when superboy takes off his jacket, bruce takes it as a cue. he edges a finger under the seam where his jaw meets the tight kevlar, peeling back the cowl and setting it on the nearest workbench. his hand lingers there, just long enough to tap a button beneath the intercom, “alfred. we have a guest.” it were already tea time━he would already know what to bring. alfred always knows, and bruce likes it that way. the predictability of it, the steady rhythm of routine, grants him the smallest measure of comfort. he's learned to take whatever comfort he can get.
ironic, then, for him to feel this instinctive pull to make kon━who is anything but routine━feel at home. to envelope him in the same shadow he draped over each of his robin's shoulders, though the implications weren't the same. he is certainly superman's son, that much is clear. “i need you to move the entire machine closer to the back.” with bruce's eyes free from the cowl, he could use them to gesture to the a platform built up and away from the main layout. he meant to put another car there, but they seemed to blow up faster than he could build them. “just be careful when you lift it, a piece or two may fly off, but i'm sure you'll be fine. in the off chance you're not━how well have you been doing with pain?” bruce doesn't mean to pry, but the question slips out anyways. his mind is already primed to catalogue the answer and file it away in a mental note and later, his electronic ones.
kon, with much childlike glee, giggles to himself. a private, little hee hee ! as he floats towards the machine.
❛❛ i’m only three, b-man. everything is an acquired taste for me. ❜❜ three, or seventeen ! either way, young. even on top of that, he does not taste food the same way humans do— his senses on this planet that bore him are a million fold in comparison. food, to some extent, tastes the same as air, or as any other molecule. he experiences life so differently, but he’d never know it. strong flavors are the best. maybe the cucumber sandwiches will step it up !
then, just as he is getting ready to lift, the child’s smile falters. dims, somewhat, like he’s nervous. it gives him pause. kon’s known all along that there’s kryptonite housed in this cave— it’d incapacitate ( and poison ) him the same way it does his father. tim had used it on him, the first time they ever met. lex luthor used some against him not but last year. maybe … he should go.
❛❛ oh, um- my invulnerability has been set in stone since i hatched, mister wayne. you don’t have to worry about that. ❜❜ physical pain, at least, he rarely worries about— but in his few years of life, kon - el has known all manner of mental and emotional agonies. if he lets his mind drift, he’ll dwell on it, so ! back to the task at hand. finish up quick, and get the hell out of dodge.
without so much as a grunt, nor any other type of effort indicated, kon lifts the great machine with all the ease of an earther picking up a pebble. its weight creaks and complains against itself, but he seems unbothered, even as some loose metal clangs to the ground a foot below his float - zone.
puts it where it needs to go. there ! easy enough.
the idea that Kon almost was lost forever feels like something SHATTERS, suddenly the conversation becomes so real . Bart has LOST Kon before . ( something he can’t, just can’t experience again . ) and he’s broken every rule of time and space to fix it . but for a moment he feels HELPLESS to make his best friend feel better, because horrors like these are things even he hasn’t figured out how to cope with yet .
❝ hey . hey … ❞ Bart interjects gently, he can’t bear to listen to Kon talk about himself that way . he’s significantly shorter, but hands still reach up to WIPE at the tears .
❝ that’s not gonna happen . Kon, you and every other hero will protect the world, and I’m always here to look out for YOU . ❞ he jostles Kon just a little, hands on either side of his face, trying to get through .
❝ you’re not the only one who’s BROKEN reality . I’ve done it . but I didn’t do it cause I’m EVIL and neither did you . all that shit doesn’t MATTER anymore . past, future, alternate timelines, hypertime, whatever .❞
Bart tries to give him a small smile . ❝ all that matters is RIGHT NOW . and right now ? the world is okay . the best dude ever and my BEST FRIEND is alive . and we’re keeping it that way, Kon . okay ? ❞
come tumbling out of his mouth even faster than kon himself can make sense of it, he's both relieved and grateful that bart seems to have easily grasped the gist of it. the events are difficult to speak of, and even more harsh to relive in memory. he's not used to being hurt. he's not used to losing so badly and all by himself, either. there's been a team with him since he was born, practically.
the mournful blue of the kryptonian's eyes glitters beneath all the water they hold. he can't stop crying. the voice used to speak again is not full of the bold bravado and energy it usually carries, but a hoarse whisper :
❛❛ i feel like something bad is going to happen because of me. ❜❜ because he wasn't good enough to complete the single job he was sent out to do. heavy head drops even further into bart's palms, gaze falling downward. kon - el can't shake the dread, no matter how high he flies, how fast he runs, how strong he is. there's no lingering, visible marks of trauma on his body, but there the scars remain stubbornly in his psyche. fresh from the mission failure, kon has always taken losses hard. at least he's sensitive enough to know he needs his friends for support ... at least he came to bart.
❛❛ i don't know how you do it. i don't know how you handle hypertime. i feel like i'm drowning because of what i saw. what i ... went through. black zero is destroying them, bart. whole universes. i'm not strong enough to stop him if he finds me, here. ❜❜
a threat in gotham? one that the overzealous man in a batsuit doesn’t know about? bruce has to fight to keep the smile off of his face. “just because you came out in one piece this time doesn’t mean it’ll happen the next.” the low growl in his voice is a matter of habit rather than real malice. any annoyance he had left just as fast as it had came when he first saw kon spiral out of the machine. the boyish antics stir something in him━a wave of nostalgia from somewhere deep. he wonders, briefly, what kind of trouble clark had gotten himself into at this age. probably nothing too different from this. he supposes it’s a rite of passage, especially for someone still trying to make sense of the hand they’ve been dealt.
“i appreciate the effort, superboy. i’m sure you know i run a tight ship, i don’t miss anything.” words of warning if they were for anyone else. but for kon, it’s for reassurance. maybe there’s a touch of teasing if stephanie’s whispers to him were correct. batman isn’t often the first person anyone would go to about their romantic endeavors, not even his children. he tries to be patient, be observant, but staying quiet is harder said than done. “are you sure you’re not here for some of alfred’s cucumber sandwiches?” he pauses, almost like this was his attempt at a joke, “if you stay and help me with the machine, we can leave superman out of this. i could use the hand.”
batman totally knows he’s fibbing : kon’s just grateful he doesn’t ask.
the clone often times seems immensely more alien than his father— only eating socially, food being unnecessary to sustain him. sleeping exclusively when he must recuperate from a massive display of power, instead of nightly like the natives of this planet do. difficulty lies in obscuring his truest nature, but here he knows he does not need to.
to right himself, kon - el floats upward until his feet are beneath him, but he still does not set them back down upon the earth : rather remains suspended without gravity, and smiles as bright as sol.
❛❛ okay, deal. and— i mean— if alfred made some of his famous sandwiches, i won’t say no. ❜❜ he removes his signature leather jacket, imbued with great care all sorts of patches … and most importantly, his s - shield. beneath it are the long, blue sleeves of his shirt and the shoulders of the next generation. he sets that precious item aside carefully, and taps his hands together.
❛❛ what can i do b-man? i’m not a great tinkerer, but i can help you move heavy parts ! or— string up really high wires. ❜❜
[ from supercopy ] : “let’s hope the locals are friendly.” (father-son space adventures?)
not the father and son's first journey into space. these memories within the stars sit fondly in the old el's mind. the first time he took his not even a fledgling child into this dark expanse kon was too terrified to even let go of his father's hand for even a second - afraid he would be lost in this final horizon. it made clark chuckle reminiscing on it. even now, kon didn't like losing sight of his pa ... some things don't change quickly, do they ?
with kon's hand in hand they both touch down on a planet. this place was more of a rest stop sort of planet. there was locals but there also was all walks of life that landed here to fill up their ships and have a good meal. with all walks of life came uncertainty. clark knew this. simple cargo drivers, bounty hunters, to killers. the father intended on keeping kon close ... he wouldn't have brought kon on this investigation mission if he didn't think he was ready.
❝ they'll be friendly enough. lets just stay on our toes ... and don't stray too far from me, alright ? ❞ clark looks at kon with a reassuring smile holding both of his shoulders before they set off.
here on this planet clark was to meet with an informant to find maxima's fleet. shes the princess of a warring people. as a ambassador of space clark couldnt let her do what she wanted ... ( it would not be his first time seeing her neither ... kon didn't need to hear any of that. thought clark’s strange past with that woman was sure to resurface. ) ❝ we need to wait for my informant... do you want to try a cool space non alcoholic drink in the mean time ? ❞ clark motioned to the bar stools.
constantly kept about the young alien is an attitude of both playfulness and mischief. he is young ! and so wide - eyed for this big, giant universe. stars reflect in the impossible blue of his gaze so much like his father’s— and even more, an innate love for the unknown things they’ll encounter and the life forms not native to earth and, and, and ! opportunity aplenty to prove himself worthy of the symbol they bear on their chests. he hasn’t even met anyone and he already loves them. everything about this place, actually.
❛❛ boo, ❜❜ he jeers in good humor to his dad, and floats himself merrily onto a bar stool. kon has no shyness to ask : ❛❛ hi ! can i have a drink? not one that makes you feel funny. alcohol free. ❜❜ matter - of - factly, parroting his parent. the barkeep deadpans towards him. kon seems not to notice, and swings his legs in high spirits. he’s excited, after all, to be on an op like this with his parent and his greatest hero. a … less than appetizing beverage is set in front of him, and kon grasps it with both hands. he stares, sourly, but decides, eh ! might as well try what the locals give him. his first sip isn’t too bad. he drinks more. kinda— chalky ! but he’s had worse things in his mouth.
❛❛ so, when are they gonna be here? they know we’re coming, right? i’m assuming that’s how the whole ‘ informant ’ thing works. do i get to talk or do i stay quiet? ❜❜
kon being 50% clark and 50% lex would make him offspring, not a clone.
my kon (specifically) is 93% kryptonian and as good of a kryptonian clone as humans might ever be able to create. lex luthor’s team of scientists had a partially-corrupt sample of superman specimen, in which case the 7% gap was filled in with lex’s dna.
let me emphasize : 7% is not enough to make any significant difference in anything. it would likely be considered a “mutation of a normal variant of kryptonian dna” and thus, essentially, the “mutation” of the human dna in his genetics enabled kon to develop a new ability that his cloned counterpart does not have. tactile telekinesis !
kon-el is as invulnerable, as powerful, and as alien as kal-el.
Bart has no reason to HESITATE in his arrival, appearing without so much as a second’s thought . his friend needed him - Kon needed him, and that’s all Bart needed . though his friend’s obvious DISTRESS makes him pause, delays his reaction as he feels strong arms engulf his smaller frame .
❝ it’s good to see you too, man . always . ❞ he blinks back to reality and hugs Kon back warmly, smiling softly in fondness .
that grip tightens, however, at the mention of HYPERTIME . Bart pulls back to look his best friend in the face with wide gold eyes, smile fallen and concerned recognition across his expression .
most people didn’t even KNOW what that concept was, nonetheless had any experience with it . less often, an experience they could remember . Bart was one of the few outliers, in fact, one of the people with the MOST firsthand knowledge he could actually recall . … and hypertime rarely left somebody feeling CHEERY, so yeah, he was worried .
voice soft, he keeps his hands on the sides of Kon’s arms . ❝ what happened, Kon ? ❞
fear chews the insides of his cheeks, gnawing them visibly in the few seconds of silence that follows bart’s pressing of the issue. it’s written all over his face anyway, of course the speedster immediately recognizes that something is wrong. for a split second, kon forgets he was ready to talk about anything ! the panic of memory grips him and tries to push his head back under the dark waters of anxiety.
❛❛ well—.. the justice league sent me on a mission, and— i— almost didn’t make it back, bart. ❜❜ that’s the simplest, least painful version of things. not enough detail, aggravatingly vague. the threat of tears chokes kon and stings unearthly, blue eyes.
❛❛ i s-saw— a lot happened. where do i start? so many mes. one of them was hurting so many people. he hurt me really bad. i didn’t even stop him, bart ! i couldn’t- and he trapped me, and i … i saw everything slipping by, all of time and space, like i was stuck outside of it in a prison. ❜❜ a lot of word - vomit from the young kryptonian, and not wholly coherent, either. like his psyche is as fractured as how he shattered reality ( for a second, anyway. long enough to escape ). those tears, finally, begin to make their way down his freckled cheeks.
❛❛ i don’t think i was supposed to come home. i, um.. broke some stuff on the way out. and that— me. the bad me. i’m scared he’s going to try to find his way here. he’ll kill everyone. i’m— i’m scared. he was destroying realities, one by one, and now i’ve made it personal. if he can find me, he’ll come here, next. i fucked up, bart. i didn’t finish the mission and now i’ve put everyone at risk. ❜❜
it started out as a phone call : can i talk to you, bart? it’s— i need a friend. and as soon as the OK came through the other end, kon had already honed in on the speedster’s location in a flurry of wind before they’d even hung up.
the kryptonian, tall as he is, looks … troubled. shrunken in on himself. hurt at heart. only his dad, batman, and wonder woman are supposed to know details about the mission he’d been sent on, but now tim knows, too ! and one more person, kon thinks, that he knows he can trust with his emotions and his wellbeing won’t hurt.
❛❛ hey, bart. it’s so good to see you, ❜❜ kon says so like a breath of relief. like he genuinely means it, as though he’d been worried he’d never see his friend again. the big, alien clone stoops down for a tight hug, in which his arms envelop the entirety of impulse’s upper back. one would think he’d get to the point a little quicker, knowing who he’s talking to.
❛❛ … um. i’d like to talk about hypertime. something happened with me. ❜❜
[ from supercopy ] : “how did i get here? that's not a rhetorical question! i'm actually asking.”
“keep still.” the cowl betrays none of the concern etched into his furrowed brow and into the downturn of his mouth, but the cool irritation in his voice certainly does. in the safety of the batcave, the batman hovers over @supercopy, his eyes scanning him for any splotches of red or a missing limb. the machine he had tumbled out of hums a high-pitched tune next to them and from the corner of his eye, he spots a spark bounce from one exposed wire to the next. that's the very least of his worries though. while he continues his quick search (he even picks up kon's hands, counting each digit), the soft chitter of bats is all that sits between them.
finally, bruce rests his hands on his lap and meets kon's bewildered gaze. he does look like clark, doesn't he? “that was a teleportation device you just used, son. you were the first living being to use it. congratulations.” the relief that kon is in one piece dilutes what should be a sarcastic comment. another silent moment passes while batman seems to observe him all over again. then suddenly, he rises from the cold metal floor, his gloved hand extended towards the boy. “do you want to call your father or should i?”
❛❛ cool, ❜❜ he whispers, neck twisting while the clone is being examined to inspect what he can see of the machine that’d brought him here : to the batcave ?! of all places. he hopes they’ll both pretend for right now that he hasn’t been poking around more often because of his boyfriend.
then his hands are splayed out, and the same blue of his father’s eyes snaps back to the batman— mouth presses into a thin line as he listens to it all : the human’s heartbeat, the creatures that reside in here, the hum of electricity and circuitry. even the settling of the earth as it groans deep in its crust. batman gets up, offers an arm, kon takes it and rises as well. unceremoniously dusting himself off, as if being a little dirty really matters to him at all ( more of a display of bruised dignity ).
❛❛ huh ?! ohhhhh, we don’t have to get my dad involved. i can just, uhh— go back through the machine? yeah ! ❜❜ ( he was definitely supposed to be patrolling metropolis and not nosing around the outskirts of gotham ). ❛❛ mister w- um, batman, sir. ❜❜ the young el fidgets with his gloved hands, picking at the frayed edges where he’s clipped the fingers down to his knuckles. ❛❛ i’m sorry about tumbling in, it was an honest mistake ! i just heard the energy— i wasn’t trying to mess with your stuff, i promise. i was just— ❜❜ trying to see tim? nope ! avoid that topic.
❛❛ —… making sure there wasn’t a threat that needed ... neutralization. ❜❜
not of comfort. not of condolences. there is a heart and there is a fissure, a fracture, something that starts to splinter and break open. you're the patron saint of the way a heart is rent open. the way it tears itself apart. patron saint of the rift. patron saint of the gash. when they say to "open your heart" to somebody, you are the patron saint of bleeding out.
tagged by : @sandmark tagging: @thirdson / @diedrobin @1mpulsee
