The Young Justice: Animated Anonymous Fic Meme

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Prompt Post -Part One! [CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS]
yj_anon wrote in yj_anon_meme

Welcome to the Young Justice: Animated anonymous fic meme!

How does it work? Basically, you leave prompts, and people fill them with glorious fic. Pretty simple. Anonymity is allowed for those that feel nervous or awkward requesting or filling, but it isn't actually obligatory. Unlike a lot of memes (like kink memes) this doesn't have a particular focus beyond the fandom. Het, gen, slash, femslash, anything else you can think up? Welcome! Crack, drama, angst? Go nuts!

However, we do have some...

Rules and guidelines.

• Animated canon only, please. Crossovers are fine, so is integrating comics/etc. stuff into animated canon, but no outright Young Justice comic stuff, please.
• Be reasonable. Polite. Etc. You may be anonymous, but that is no excuse for being ridiculous.
• Likewise, be considerate in your prompting. Trigger warnings are appreciated (for content that may seriously upset people with past experience, such as rape/non-con, self harm, suicide, etc.- at the absolute least, please make it clear what the fic contains about before someone stumbles across it halfway through!), and please be careful with your wording. Memes like this often touch on some sensitive material. If you feel somebody has posted an actively offensive prompt, please either PM me or use the mod post here to bring it to my attention.
• One prompt per post, please!
• Repeat after me: Your Kink Is Not My Kink. Don't attack people's prompts because they aren't your cup of tea!
• Look, just don't wank up a storm in general. I'm sure we can all manage, right? :)
ETA: Please do not reprompt things until we reach a second part. In addition, I encourage anyone looking for things to fill to go back through previous pages. A lot of people have old prompts tracked, so your fills will still be seen!

This is the 'flat' view of the page; it shows comments in the order they're posted, rather than as threads. Makes it easier to see new fills on previous pages.

I'll look at getting a Delicious or Diigo or something-or-other archive up for filled prompts if it gets to the point we feel it'd be useful. In the meantime, have fun!

ETA: We now have a discussion post if you need one!

ETA: I need help with archiving! Also, we set up a fill post.

Can you please leave links to any fic you write there. See the post for more details. Thanks!

ETA: GUYS. I am officially making the 'PM me about offensive prompts' thing obligatory. Please, I have difficulty keeping up without your wonderful help!

Incidentally, being polite includes not telling people they're being 'too sensitive' for being bothered by things. Just sayin'. This place is a safe space, in so much as I can make it one, and I don't really like the rhetoric of 'oh, if you're offended you're oversensitive' that I'm seeing in a couple places? Remember: people may have had different experiences than you that influence their view. Don't assume. :)

In-progress Delicious account.

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Superboy has an allowance, let's say. Not really knowing what to spend it on, he heads into Happy Harbor and walks around hoping for inspiration. He finds piano lessons, or something equally artistic and classy. Go with it, anons!

Bonus points if Clark sees/hears it, and double bonus super special awesome points if it's something that Clark is rubbish at.

(*shrug* Because SB is sexy, and so are musicians. Especially piano players.)

Playing Scales (1/4)

(...heh, this was supposed to be a short fill but it got WAY OUT OF HAND. Probably because I'm a music geek -___-)

“Allowances are an important part of teenage life. It’s an integral stepping stone towards understanding money management.” Batman had said. Superboy had more or less forgotten the conversation until a week later Batman had handed Robin and him several paper bills before departing once more.

Superboy knew what money was. He’d seen it before, but he’d never actually held it. Considering the value it held it wasn’t very impressive: they were just paper, thin and slick. These were things that people died and killed for? Even knowing that to everyday citizens money was more than just didn’t make much sense.

“What do I…do with this?” Superboy inquired.

Robin had just laughed, “You spend it of course!”

“…On what?”

“Anything you want.” Robin told him, “For example, I’m saving up for the latest tech, but if I wanted to I could go buy pizza or play in the arcade...anything! The limit is your imagination. And well, how much money you have.”

Superboy had nodded solemnly in response and considered the matter before shoving the bills into his dresser to be forgotten. Several weeks later he had quite the stash.

“DUDE. You’re rich!” Wally had marveled, “Are you saving up for something like Robin or what?”

“No. I just don’t know what to do with it.”

“Aw man, let me take you into town and I’ll show you plenty of things you can spend that cash on!”

In the end, Wally ends up blowing half of Superboy’s savings on silly things like collectible dolls (“They’re action figures!”), sweets, arcade games, and other useless knick-knacks Superboy is sure Wally will never use. He’s also pretty sure that the way Wally uses money is the “wasteful spending” Batman warned him against. It’s almost a relief when the speedy young hero announced he needed to head home, leaving Superboy to wander Happy Harbor alone.

There were so many things that could be bought, just as Robin had said. Everywhere Superboy turned there was another colorful display to look at and more useless merchandise pressed up against the store’s window. Superboy feels the money burning in his pocket. He cannot forget that people kill for money and finds he wants to be rid of the awful green bills as soon as possible. But at the same time, money meant something. Having this to spend was meant to be a lesson, and ever since Black Canary’s had begun teaching—and ever since he’d actually taken heed of those teachings—Superboy had come to the conclusion that even if he didn’t agree with them or understand what they were about, it was always best to listen when someone older and more experienced tried to teach you something.

So, he’d find something worth spending money on and buy it. He’d learn something about money management(hopefully) and get rid of the allowance money once and for all. Except that only brought him back to the original problem, which was that there was nothing Superboy wanted...

“Look, I’ll give you the rent next week okay? I’m just waiting on some money from a student to come through—”

“Angie, I really don’t want to do this, you know that, but I need you get me that rent money. I don’t want to close your studio, but I can’t just let you use the space for free. You’re already a month behind—”

“I told you, I can get the money soon, my students—”

Angie. You don’t have paying students. I’m not a fool, I know you’re giving that little old man down the street lessons for free, and that the only other person who ever comes in here is your nephew and of course you wouldn’t make family pay...”

Re: Playing Scales (2/4)

Superboy turned the corner to find a man in a mousy brown coat standing by middle aged woman with her hair done up in a bun and with glasses perched on her nose. The woman looked heartbroken and desperate: it was a look Superboy had come to associate with people who were in danger.

“This is my life!” the woman—Angie—cried, gesturing to the small little hole-in-the-wall studio behind her, “If I can’t teach piano, I...” her voice cracked.

Superboy eyed the glass and the aged peeling letters reading “The Piano Place: Piano Lessons with Angie Alcott” before looking back at the women. Decision made, Superboy stepped out of the shadows hesitantly, startling both the man and woman who looked up at him sharply. He cast one more glance at the window before enquiring “Excuse me, are you Angie Alcott?”

“...Yes?” The woman replied, blinking up at him in confusion, “How can I help you?”

“You...give piano lessons, yes?” a nod. “I’d like to take piano lessons.”

Both Angie and the man let out a sound of shock. “ would?”

“I um...yes. I have money. How much would it be?”

“Never you mind at the moment dear. We can discuss the details inside.” She cast a significant look at the man, who sighed in response.

Fine. I’ll give you one more week to pay rent, but not a day more!” he declared before marching off down the street.

“Well now that that’s settled, come in, come in, make yourself at home.” Angie urged, ushering him into the small studio. Superboy winced at the room. There was sheet music scattered everywhere along with magazines, newspapers, and empty ramen cups. At the center of it all, was a grand piano that had obviously seen better days the same time there was something homey about the space as messy as it was.

All the money in his pocket ended up paying for four lessons, which Superboy could only guess was a good deal. He wasn't quite sure what he'd gotten himself into though, as he sat down at the tiny rickety piano bench and 'Angie'—as she insisted he call her—arranged his hands on the ivory keys.

"This is middle 'C." she told him softly indicating to his thumb, "The next finger is 'D', then 'E', 'F', and 'G'. Can you try pressing 'C' Conner?"

He did as she told and a sound came resounding out of the piano that was loud and hard, and had Superboy wincing.

"Don't worry about how it sounds right now, just concentrate on getting the notes under your fingers. Try pressing all of the keys I showed you okay, one after another..."

Superboy knew what pianos were supposed to sound like. The Genomes had glossed over the idea of what 'music' was pretty quickly, but what piano music he'd heard from them had been so much different from this. That music had been soft and sweet and so many things he hadn't had the words for yet. But this? This was awful. The sound coming out of the piano was biting and angry. Angie however, didn't react to his horrible playing and merely smiled. "Do you remember the names of the notes you just played?"


"C, D, E, F, G. Say it as you play."

"C..." too hard again. It was coming out all horrible sounding again, "I-It doesn't sound good."

"Darling," Angie soothed, hand coming to cover his, "You're just starting out; it doesn't have to sound like anything yet. Learning skills like playing the piano takes time. Everything in life that's worth having takes patience and devotion."

So Superboy had grit his teeth and continued pounding the keys under Angie's tutelage. To say he was feeling frustrated when he returned to Mount Justice would be an understatement. Angie told him his problem was that he pressed too hard, that he wasn't gentle enough. In the training room he obliterated the hanging punching bag with a WHAM, his mind on his last attempt to work with Superman—how he’d nearly destabilized the bridge he’d been trying to save because of his stupid landing. When Superman flew, he was regal; all Superboy could do was as Wally had put it ‘leap over buildings in a single bound’. He could soar for a moment, but in the end he was a crater in the cement waiting to happen.

Re: Playing Scales (3/4)

Superboy almost didn’t go to the second lesson, but he’d already paid, and it would be wasteful not to go. He was locked into four lessons, but after that he never had to think of pianos or scales again: wouldn’t have to think of the horrible sound of a note pressed too abruptly and too hard nor how fragile and breakable the ivory keys had looked before his calloused hands that knew more about punching than holding.

The second piano lessons was a complete aster—not quite a disaster, but still nothing had changed. He remembered the names of the keys, and could (albeit not very well) play the scales Angie instructed him to but there was nothing beautiful about the way Superboy played. It was an imitation: leaping buildings in single bounds in the face of unrestrained flight. Superboy was willing to bet Superman could play the piano like a pro because that just would have been the icing on the cake wouldn’t it?

The third lesson doesn’t go much better, but Angie insists that he was doing ‘very well’. Superboy tries to imagine that each of the keys on the piano was one of his friends, hoping he can conjure some gentleness from the image of their smiling faces. If he pressed to hard, he—on the first try he squashed Kid Flash beneath his thumb followed by Aqualad, Robin, and Miss Martian. He ends up smashing the key he’d designated as Superman’s, but totally by accident (no, really!). On the day of Superboy’s final lesson, he heads down the street to Angie’s studio intent that it be his last…

And then he hears it. A soft tinkering piano melody so soft it was almost a whisper. He swallowed hard, knowing he’d never be able to produce anything of the like, and pushed open the door. Angie looked up from the piano startled. “Oh Conner, there you are!”

“...what was that?” Superboy found himself asking.

“Für Elise by Beethoven.” She told him.

“It’s very...soft.”

“Ah, yes, I suppose so...hey, don’t look so glum. Is this abrasive your playing is at the moment?”

Superboy looked away, but then looked up sharply as Angie began to play, loud chords materializing out of thin air, striking at his ear drums with sudden shrillness. The young superhero watched his teacher’s fingers fly over the keys, pounding with abandon in a piece that was neither soft or quiet but...loud and abrasive and...embracing it.

“That was the opening to Beethoven’s Symphony no. 5. It’s something that wakes audiences up if you know what I mean. Conner, there are all sorts of music in this world, and there’s going to be music for you: music that’s hard and uncompromising loud. That stuff with probably come easy to you. The other stuff like Für Elise is going to be harder but I’ll come. It just takes time. Now no more moping, let’s get down to playing.”

In the end, it wasn’t his last lesson. Every week he saved up his allowance and used it to pay for lessons. Slowly but surely, he gained control, and not just in piano...

“Good job this week Superboy.” Black Canary commented as he exited the training room, “You’ve really been improving. Your stance is much tighter, and you’re showing a lot more focus. Keep it up.” Everyone seemed to notice the improvements. Everyone except probably Superman who steered clear as much as possible. When Superman was around he avoided Superboy’s eyes and tried very hard to pretend his clone wasn’t there. On those days Superboy pounded his anger out into the piano, playing Ode to Joy with such a gusto of the like that had never been seen before.

“Aside from you, I have five other students now and I was thinking…” Angie brought up one day, “I’d like to have a recital.”


“Yeah. A performance. I’ve already rented the space, and you can invite whoever you want: your friends or parents or whoever. I was hoping to do it this weekend, will you be available?”

“Uh, yeah, sure but—”

“Great! It’s settled then. Wear something classy okay? And for your piece we’ll just do the one we’ve been working on recently, okay?”

Re: Playing Scales (4/5)

(>_< Miscounted. One more part after this.)

Superboy finds he’s actually pretty excited for the recital—mostly because of the hope that maybe this would be something that would impress Superman. He tires writing an invitation to the man of steel five times before he gives up and focuses on the problem of dress.

“...You need what for what?”

“I need something ‘classy’ for my recital this weekend.” Superboy repeated, glaring at Robin, “Was I not clear the first time?”

“No, you were plenty clear but...recital...?”

“I’ve been taking piano lessons. I have a recital this weekend. My instructor has asked that I wear ‘something classy’ to it. I am asking you for your help in regards to getting something appropriate. All I own are t-shirts and jeans.”

“...You’ve been spending the money Bats has been giving you on piano lessons?” Robin asked, flabbergasting, “Piano lessons?!”

Robin calls Batman in to help in the end. When the man arrived he looked at Superboy for a long time quietly before sighing and abruptly leaving again. The next day when Superboy came home there were dress pants, a white dress top, and shiny black shoes sitting on his bed all crisp, new and elegant in all the ways Superboy thinks he perhaps could someday be. He looked a little awkward in the nice clothes—something that Kid Flash is all too quick to point out, but Superboy tells himself that it’s because he still has some growing to do. Someday he’ll grow into them and maybe...maybe that day wasn’t so distant after all.

Superboy didn’t invite anyone to the recital, but the entire team plus Black Canary followed him anyway, all dressed to the nines. They sat at the very back, and spoiled the other performers (all younger than Superboy save for a little old man with a cane) with their loud cheering and exuberance. When it was time for Superboy to play Kid Flash and Robin led the group in obnoxious clapping and far-too contagious smiles. Superboy almost wasn’t nervous...that was until Batman in his Bruce Wayne persona came in through the back door dragging Clark Kent a.k.a. Superman behind him. He wasn’t playing anything too complicated—he’s still a beginner after all—but suddenly everything Angie had ever taught him was gone, and his mind was an empty void in his skull. Superman and Batman sat down a row behind the Young Justice team, and Superboy could feel Superman’s eyes boring into his head. And despite how intimidating it was...for the first time Superman was looking at him. All his attention is on Superboy, and just like that the nerves were gone and he’s playing, playing, playing, trying to pour all his feelings into a piano piece for beginners that didn’t really have all the notes he needed to express what he wanted to say but...none of that stopped him from trying.

Re: Playing Scales (5/5)

When he’d finished the entire room bursts into frantic applause with the young justice team’s cheers roaring over everyone else’s. But what Superboy noticed the most was that...Superman was clapping too. Quietly, almost politely, but still clapping. He had still acknowledged him, no matter how small of a nod it was. Angie takes him by surprise by hugging him out of nowhere before flitting off to greet the families of her students. The team crowds around him, faces all grinning up at Superboy before Miss Martian launches herself into his arms.

“That was amazing!” she enthused, “So much passion!”

“Yeah, that was pretty good, man.” Robin complimented.

“Congratulations on your first public performance.” Aqualad told him with a smile.

Kid Flash just clapped him on the back and Black Canary offered him an approving grin. The crowd suddenly scattered to ‘mingle’ with the other guests, leaving Superboy suddenly alone with the man he’d been cloned from.

“That was...a good performance.” Superman murmured, glancing awkwardly back at Batman who only glared in return, causing the man of steel’s eyes to snap back to Superboy.

“...Yeah?” Superboy asked, something like hope swelling in his chest.

“Yeah. Music it’ is really something...It’s something I always wished I got into while I was still young. I tried playing trumpet when I was in high school, but I always ended up blowing so hard I kind of...ah...shattered the bell. Every time.”

Superboy blinked. “You...cannot play the piano? Or...any other instrument?”

“No. But I always wished I...hey, you me about uh...?”

A smile broke out on Superboy’s face. “Uh yeah, um...I could show you a little.” he pointed towards the piano, “T-this is C. Middle C.” he said, “a-and next to it is D, and then E, F, G...It’s...a scale. A group of...progressions. Steps...”

It wasn’t a perfect reconciliation, but it was a start, and for the moment it was all Superboy had ever hoped it would be.

Re: Playing Scales (5/5)

Wow. Just wow. This is so understated yet powerful. I love how you've captured everything about Superboy: his aggression, his self-doubt, and his slow progression to improve himself!

Very well done! Especially love the scene at the end between Superman and Superboy! Love it!

Re: Playing Scales (5/5) - OP

Oh. Oh wow. This is- so perfectly, perfectly what I was hoping to get. This is exactly what I imagined, and just couldn't get into words because it was too delicate and nervous and sweet in my mind, and I'm no good as a writer, but you nailed it all, so so so perfectly. Oh my god.

"It was an imitation: leaping buildings in single bounds in the face of unrestrained flight." and how he's too rough, and how it ties in to his training, and oh, oh I have tears in my eyes, this was so amazing!

Is this de-anon-ed anywhere? Because it deserves to be added to everyone's memories. It's so amazing, anon, omigod.

Re: Playing Scales (5/5)

Bwaaaahhhh aw this is so sweet. You have such an amazing grasp of the emotion, the character in the music there.

Re: Playing Scales (5/5) That was so amazing. I loved the way you handled just about everything. Superboy's dealings with his team were perfect and the part with Superman at the end was just sooooo good *flails*

Re: Playing Scales (5/5)

That was beautiful.

Re: Playing Scales (5/5)

*melts with cute and aww* Oh Superboy. ;^; n'awwwww.

Re: Playing Scales (5/5)

Absolutely fantastic.

Re: Playing Scales (5/5)

Oh my gosh, my face hurts from the large grin I am sporting right now. I love how Clark is still so awkward with Superboy (BRUCE DRAGGED HIM TO THE RECITAL! XD For some reason that part made me laugh so hard... and the glaring Bruce gives Clark in order to make him stay talking to Superboy... XD Bruce you are awesome).

I also liked the add that Clark CAN'T play instruments, although he tried and had the same problem Superboy did. Superboy had more patience than Clark, so he is able to do something Superman can't now! I'm happy for him. :)

Re: Playing Scales (5/5)

Really, really wonderful. Oh, Superboy! I'm so glad Bruce dragged Clark to the recital, because he deserved to have Superman giving him his undivided attention.

Re: Playing Scales (5/5)

I absolutely LOVED your story!

Re: Playing Scales (5/5)

This is the one that got me. I am genuinely touched by this.

The metaphor was wonderful and you handled it with seamless grace. I keep on re-reading the line "A group of...progressions. Steps..." and just feel overwhelmed with emotion.

You are wonderful. I hope this reaches you.

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