DCU Fic: Un-Dysphoria (Tim Drake, PG)
Title: Un-Dysphoria
Fandom: Teen Titans
Pairing/Characters: Tim Drake
Rating: PG
Warnings: a tiny bit of crack, genderswitching, jokes about head injuries
Word Count: 1273
Summary: This genderswap fic is dedicated to anyone who has ever been punched in the boob.
It takes them nearly three months to notice.
Not Bruce, of course, he would have seen the difference the minute Tim walked into the cave that evening, even if he hadn't read the lengthy report describing Tim's encounter with the magical being known as Omnikron and his subsequent... changes.
It's not that it didn't bother him a little at first. Inhabiting a new body is bound to be traumatizing no matter what type of "new" that body might be but the changes are reasonably minor and Tim adjusts well, if not easily. It helps that he's the same height, that his jaw is only slightly more delicate than before, that he has always lacked the sort of body fat that would lend itself to hips and thighs.
The only real difficulties, as far as Tim can tell, are the differences in his center of gravity (dealt with by an intensive course of re-training with Bruce and five days off the streets) and the breasts.
The breasts could really be much worse, in Tim's estimation. They're what Stephanie would call "B-pluses", easily managed with the creative application of some bandaging and a little extra armor over the chest. If anything it looks as though Tim has been lifting weights more often than usual.
Ideally, Tim thinks, it would be better if he could return to his old body, if only because he knew it better and it would be less nerve wracking to shower in his father's house. Otherwise--
--Well, it's not like he'd been using his penis that much in the first place.
Maintaining the deception requires a few... admissions in Tim's daily life. He spent the first three weeks incrementally raising the pitch of his normal speaking voice until it was something like comfortable. He's still speaking at the lower end of his new register, though not at the straining levels it at been when he began. It's likely that no one other than Bruce (and maybe Dick) would be able to tell the difference. The chest-binding took a little time to get used to, and occasionally surprised him with it's ability to restrict his breathing, but all in all Tim is rather pleased with the result.
Or he would be pleased if he had managed to maintain it for longer than he had.
It begins, as these things do (and have), with a Titans mission in which Tim finds himself fighting the super-powered flavor of the week and things are going well (rife with unnecessary property damage, but well) right up until they are suddenly not going so well and the villain's over-muscled fist is headed right for his head and he's jumping because ducking would put him right in line for that kick he sees coming.
And the fist is landing squarely on his chest and he feel the sickening popping sensation which means something is cracked if not broken. Normally he would roll with it and be just fine but now...
Now the blow is landing on painfully tight bandaging over his breast which just got punched and there's an even more sickening sensation in what is most likely his mammary glands...
Tim screams.
His scream is not the lower voice he's been imitating for the past few month but in the high range of his new body and it's loud and his teammates are turning to look at him in shock.
And another fist is coming down hard on the back of his head and the world is going black...
...and he's waking up on the same rooftop with the team gathered around him, looking down with worried frowns and strained voices.
"We should get him to a hospital..."
"...hear that sound he made?!"
"He can't go to a hospital, Cassie!"
"...Not going to call Batman!"
"Robin?"
"I'm fine." He says even though he must have some sort of head trauma because he's forgotten to drop his voice again and...
"There is was again! Did you hear?" Bart is speaking unreasonably loud.
"Are you ok?" There's Kon, Tim reminds himself, Kon is the upside down one.
"I may have a concussion."
He's pushing himself up onto his elbows and trying to stand and none of his teammates is sure whether or not to help. The villain (Monstro? Behemoth? Was he just making these names up?) was long gone. Pulling himself up all the way, Tim feels something slide, and a sort of click, and his entire chest is radiating pain in a way that makes it clear that something is making it worse.
He gasps and, his hand flying to his chest, gasps more. The binding.
"Get it off he croaks."
"What?"
And he scrabbling at his uniform, disabling the automatic defenses and cracking open the armored chest peace as his friends watch with confusion. Down below the armor and the undershirt is the binder pressing in just the wrong way against his ribs.
He grabs a birdarang and cuts through the material and he's definitely got a concussion because now he's shirtless in front of his team and he's got breasts.
Well, he thinks, at least I can breathe.
"Dude." Kon says, staring at his chest with wide eyes, "Dude"
"Can we deal with this when there's only one of you?" He asks because it's an honest question and because he's sliding from triple to double vision.
"Guys!" Cassie shouts, "We can deal with this after we get him... uh... her...
"I can tell you about the correct usage of gender pronouns once my brain isn't swelling." Tim pats her on the shoulder consolingly.
"...Once we get Robin to the infirmary." She finishes. She looks a little freaked out. Tim understands.
The world is going a little fuzzy as Kon picks him up, bridal style and still saying "Dude" like it will somehow explain things, and begins carrying him back to the tower. Tim blinks (it hurts) and leans his head heavily against Kon's shoulder.
"I'm going to be unconscious in a moment." He informs his best friend.
And he is.
********************************************************************
A day later Tim sits on a couch in the Tower lounge and explains to his teammates (his family, he reminds himself) how exactly he wound up with a new set of sexual organs. It's just as awkward as he had imagined.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Kon cries finally and Tim feels like possibly the worst friend on the face of the earth.
"I forgot?"
"What?!" And there's the confusion and anger he has been expecting from Cassie and Gar.
The only one who doesn't seem to be shocked (if not by the sex-change than by the secrecy) is Bart, who has definitely read a book about this at one point and who thinks the whole thing was pretty much awesome anyway.
"I was only wearing the binding so I would fit into my uniform." Tim explains, "and it doesn't effect The Mission much, and by the time I was back with the Titans I'd gotten used to it. I forgot."
"You-- You forgot you were a chick?!" Kon, it seems is having a hard time with this.
Tim shrugs, "I feel the same."
"You've got tits!"
"They're nice." Bart says, as if that's an argument.
"Bart!"
"What?"
The conversation is deteriorating and Tim can feel a headache building behind his eyes.
"Look." He says, "This doesn't change anything. I'm still me. I don't even look different most of the time. Can we deal?"
"Sure!" Bart says.
Everyone else nods, albeit a little tentatively, and Tim decides to leave it at that. He stands and leaves with a swirl of his cape.
"...Dude." Kon whispers.
Read the (much less funny) sequel HERE
Fandom: Teen Titans
Pairing/Characters: Tim Drake
Rating: PG
Warnings: a tiny bit of crack, genderswitching, jokes about head injuries
Word Count: 1273
Summary: This genderswap fic is dedicated to anyone who has ever been punched in the boob.
It takes them nearly three months to notice.
Not Bruce, of course, he would have seen the difference the minute Tim walked into the cave that evening, even if he hadn't read the lengthy report describing Tim's encounter with the magical being known as Omnikron and his subsequent... changes.
It's not that it didn't bother him a little at first. Inhabiting a new body is bound to be traumatizing no matter what type of "new" that body might be but the changes are reasonably minor and Tim adjusts well, if not easily. It helps that he's the same height, that his jaw is only slightly more delicate than before, that he has always lacked the sort of body fat that would lend itself to hips and thighs.
The only real difficulties, as far as Tim can tell, are the differences in his center of gravity (dealt with by an intensive course of re-training with Bruce and five days off the streets) and the breasts.
The breasts could really be much worse, in Tim's estimation. They're what Stephanie would call "B-pluses", easily managed with the creative application of some bandaging and a little extra armor over the chest. If anything it looks as though Tim has been lifting weights more often than usual.
Ideally, Tim thinks, it would be better if he could return to his old body, if only because he knew it better and it would be less nerve wracking to shower in his father's house. Otherwise--
--Well, it's not like he'd been using his penis that much in the first place.
Maintaining the deception requires a few... admissions in Tim's daily life. He spent the first three weeks incrementally raising the pitch of his normal speaking voice until it was something like comfortable. He's still speaking at the lower end of his new register, though not at the straining levels it at been when he began. It's likely that no one other than Bruce (and maybe Dick) would be able to tell the difference. The chest-binding took a little time to get used to, and occasionally surprised him with it's ability to restrict his breathing, but all in all Tim is rather pleased with the result.
Or he would be pleased if he had managed to maintain it for longer than he had.
It begins, as these things do (and have), with a Titans mission in which Tim finds himself fighting the super-powered flavor of the week and things are going well (rife with unnecessary property damage, but well) right up until they are suddenly not going so well and the villain's over-muscled fist is headed right for his head and he's jumping because ducking would put him right in line for that kick he sees coming.
And the fist is landing squarely on his chest and he feel the sickening popping sensation which means something is cracked if not broken. Normally he would roll with it and be just fine but now...
Now the blow is landing on painfully tight bandaging over his breast which just got punched and there's an even more sickening sensation in what is most likely his mammary glands...
Tim screams.
His scream is not the lower voice he's been imitating for the past few month but in the high range of his new body and it's loud and his teammates are turning to look at him in shock.
And another fist is coming down hard on the back of his head and the world is going black...
...and he's waking up on the same rooftop with the team gathered around him, looking down with worried frowns and strained voices.
"We should get him to a hospital..."
"...hear that sound he made?!"
"He can't go to a hospital, Cassie!"
"...Not going to call Batman!"
"Robin?"
"I'm fine." He says even though he must have some sort of head trauma because he's forgotten to drop his voice again and...
"There is was again! Did you hear?" Bart is speaking unreasonably loud.
"Are you ok?" There's Kon, Tim reminds himself, Kon is the upside down one.
"I may have a concussion."
He's pushing himself up onto his elbows and trying to stand and none of his teammates is sure whether or not to help. The villain (Monstro? Behemoth? Was he just making these names up?) was long gone. Pulling himself up all the way, Tim feels something slide, and a sort of click, and his entire chest is radiating pain in a way that makes it clear that something is making it worse.
He gasps and, his hand flying to his chest, gasps more. The binding.
"Get it off he croaks."
"What?"
And he scrabbling at his uniform, disabling the automatic defenses and cracking open the armored chest peace as his friends watch with confusion. Down below the armor and the undershirt is the binder pressing in just the wrong way against his ribs.
He grabs a birdarang and cuts through the material and he's definitely got a concussion because now he's shirtless in front of his team and he's got breasts.
Well, he thinks, at least I can breathe.
"Dude." Kon says, staring at his chest with wide eyes, "Dude"
"Can we deal with this when there's only one of you?" He asks because it's an honest question and because he's sliding from triple to double vision.
"Guys!" Cassie shouts, "We can deal with this after we get him... uh... her...
"I can tell you about the correct usage of gender pronouns once my brain isn't swelling." Tim pats her on the shoulder consolingly.
"...Once we get Robin to the infirmary." She finishes. She looks a little freaked out. Tim understands.
The world is going a little fuzzy as Kon picks him up, bridal style and still saying "Dude" like it will somehow explain things, and begins carrying him back to the tower. Tim blinks (it hurts) and leans his head heavily against Kon's shoulder.
"I'm going to be unconscious in a moment." He informs his best friend.
And he is.
********************************************************************
A day later Tim sits on a couch in the Tower lounge and explains to his teammates (his family, he reminds himself) how exactly he wound up with a new set of sexual organs. It's just as awkward as he had imagined.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Kon cries finally and Tim feels like possibly the worst friend on the face of the earth.
"I forgot?"
"What?!" And there's the confusion and anger he has been expecting from Cassie and Gar.
The only one who doesn't seem to be shocked (if not by the sex-change than by the secrecy) is Bart, who has definitely read a book about this at one point and who thinks the whole thing was pretty much awesome anyway.
"I was only wearing the binding so I would fit into my uniform." Tim explains, "and it doesn't effect The Mission much, and by the time I was back with the Titans I'd gotten used to it. I forgot."
"You-- You forgot you were a chick?!" Kon, it seems is having a hard time with this.
Tim shrugs, "I feel the same."
"You've got tits!"
"They're nice." Bart says, as if that's an argument.
"Bart!"
"What?"
The conversation is deteriorating and Tim can feel a headache building behind his eyes.
"Look." He says, "This doesn't change anything. I'm still me. I don't even look different most of the time. Can we deal?"
"Sure!" Bart says.
Everyone else nods, albeit a little tentatively, and Tim decides to leave it at that. He stands and leaves with a swirl of his cape.
"...Dude." Kon whispers.
Read the (much less funny) sequel HERE