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menacing-menace-rat · 15 days

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Can I get platonic yandere headcanons for all of the founding members of the Justice League?

I definitely can! Also sorry it took me so long to get to this. I'm still learning about how the inbox stuff works.

I'm going to have to make this in parts because it's alot to look at with all 7 members. This is part 1 of ?

I'm gonna use the founding members from the animated universe. More members and I love Martian Manhunter. If you were looking for the Snyder universe let me know and I'll edit the post and add Cyborg for you. 🤗

Warnings: kidnapping, gaslighting, obsessive behavior, general yandere creep stuff.

Platonic yandere justice league members part 1

Superman

You were a scientist at LexCorp

After some questionable experiments you knew you had to blow the whistle

So you went to the Daily Planet.

That's where it all stared.

So smart with a kind heart, how could he not protect you?

He's deluded himself completely.

He can't see how he can be the villain in anyone's story let alone yours.

He's very aware of his own strength thankfully.

You are more of a risk to yourself than he is. At least physically 👀

You'd be moved to a farmhouse almost right away.

When it comes to kidnapping you, he has no self control, it's near instant.

he knows how fragile humans are and he refuses to take any chances.

No matter how much you pleaded with him it was no use.

He was the only one who could help you and stop Lex.

This man has a scary amount of patience. No amount of hitting or screaming is going to set him off.

He will subconsciously prolong any solution that would make Lex and his people less of a threat to you.

He'd insist on sharing a bed. If he was anyone else you'd be worried he would try something.

If he wanted that kind of thing from you, you knew he could just make you.

So you were pretty sure whatever this was it was at least a platonic infatuation.

At night he'd hold you so tight it was difficult to move.

A physical reminder of what you already felt inside, trapped.

There was no escaping that farm. Anywhere in the city he could hear you.

He'd hear the front door open or your panting as you tried to run for the nearest road.

He wouldn't allow any kind of phones or computers in the house.

Why would he? Need help? He'll be there faster than any cop. You are lonely? That's fine he'd love to have hour long talks about anything you want.

Batman

Your best bet is to play along for years maybe. How ever long it takes for him to maybe let you make a grocery run alone.

He found you on the streets. Maybe it was your sad eyes or your dirty face but he knew he had to take you in.

He'd tell himself he could help you learn to fight. That you'd make a great Robin.

Deep down he knew he'd never let you fight in any way.

He's not like Superman. He knows how much he cares for you is unhealthy. He knows it's wrong to take you in and effectively trap you in a huge manor but what else can he do?

He is a world class manipulator. He also has far less patience then Superman.

Too many escape attempts and he's going to make a plan.

He'd go as far as to allow you to "escape". Only to orchestrate some horrible traumatic event so he can find you and save you all over again.

Depending on how strong willed you were the worst it would be.

It was twisted and horrible but he almost craved reassuring you.

He loved your tears so long as they weren't for a real reason.

Bruce kept a tight lid on his emotions. You'd never see him lose it. He'd never show he was upset with you.

Despite this being a very unconventional child/parent relationship his go to punishment is normally grounding and lost of privileges.

You'd be home schooled of course.

He isn't all that hands on unsurprisingly.

He'd ask one of the other kids to keep en eye on you or even another justice league members.

Asking them for help wouldn't work.

The kids are on board with Bruce. Even if they weren't what could they do?

As for the other JL members he'd tell them you were mentally ill and confused.

He'd get his colleagues/friends admiration for being so selfless by raising a sick child and you'd just look crazy.

Bruce is not known for his affection but he does try.

If you are crying or screaming he might try and comfort you with a hug or by rubbing your back.

He's not the best at comforting words either but his little acts of kindness are where he shines

He'd do his best to make most of your days as structured and predictable as possible.

You'd be kept in the best health imaginable. whether you liked it or not.

Anything you can ask for he'd give you, so long as you don't ask for freedom.

He even makes time to tuck you in every night no matter your age.

If he has time he might even read to you.

You probably are never getting free of him and his kids but your best bet would be utilize the uncontrollable.

Batman is a planner. He likes to be able to predict things.

Try and wait till something goes majorly wrong.

All of Arkhams prisoners being released or an alien invasion are your only chances of slipping out of that place. You'd only get one shot though.

Diana isn't crazy right off the bat.

Wonder Woman

(This one might be the only non gender neutral one.)

You were an anthropologist given the rare opportunity to study the amazonians from the island of Themyscira.

She is cool under pressure and isn't easily impressed.

After so long of staying there she'd start to feel like you were her sister.

But once she's invested in you there is no going back.

She would follow you back to whatever city you called home.

She isn't shy about her sisterly love for you. There would be no mind games with her.

She respects you too much for that.

She is so direct about it she would likely just tell you, you were going to go back to the island with her and be with her forever.

Depending on your reaction towards her directness she may not even make you.

She might be okay with you just visiting. For a while at least.

She's confident and self assured.

If you liked being around her as much as she likes being around you things would be easy.

If not life was going to be hard and potentially painful.

Rejecting her affection and forthcomingness will break her heart.

She would blame herself and work to be better.

Unfortunately being better to her means giving you even less space.

She'd make you come back with her.

An island full of tall strong women all who listen to Diana's will.

You are not escaping.

She is near impossible to trick twice if you have already tried to get away from her.

That being said it wouldn't be all that bad.

She would be painfully gentle with you. So long as you just listen.

You are her little sister after all.

She differs from Kent and Bruce in a big way.

She would train you, she is pragmatic and understands one day she may not be there to protect you.

Long and rigorous training sessions would be the norm for a while.

On Themiscyra you'd have much more freedoms. You would even be able to walk around alone if you showed you can handle it.

Your happiness is her second priority after your safety.

She'd being you anything you wanted from your part of the world.

She would like for you to participate in amazonian traditions and customs but she'd never make you. Even if she wants to sometimes

She'd relish in watching you acclimate to her world.

She would insist her sisters treat you with the love and respect she feels you deserve.

Your only hope of escape would be to somehow get off the island and disappear.

Nothing sort of complete disappearance would work. If she ever caught you again you wouldn't be leaving that island for a second time.

More to come hopefully soon. There will be 2 or 3 parts in total not sure yet. Hope you enjoyed!

#dc comics #headcanon #platonic yandere #superman #batman #wonder woman #justice league

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viking-raider · 3 years

Text

Southern Generation - Part II

Summary: Working for Lily is going well for Sy, but he wants her to meet a special lady in his life, and manages to get her out of the house.

Pairing: Syverson/OFC

Word Count: 5,698

Rating: PG - Language, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Angst

Inspiration: An old fic I wrote and wanting to write a Sy fic.

Author’s Note: Thank you to @wondersofdreaming

“You've been getting here more early than usual.” Lily commented, handing Sy his usual morning coffee as he arrived on the property. “You fly here like Superman or something?”

She teased him as she sat down on the brand new porch swing that Sy had built with the scrap lumber from the porch and siding.

Sy laughed and leaned back against the porch railing. “No, I've been staying at the Sunway Motel in Celina.” He confessed, crossing his ankles. “I've been too tired to drive back to Austin most days, I don't want to fall asleep at the wheel or anything. So, I've been crashing there to keep it safe, and it just makes getting back here a sight easier, than a three-hour drive.” He told her, shaking his head.

“One-way.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lily frowned, offended to hear it.

“Well, I don't want you paying that out of your pocket.” He replied, frowning back at her. “It's not a big deal for me.”

“I do technically pay you to stay there, Sy.” Lily answered, shaking her head at him.

“True.” He nodded, staring at the tips of his boots. “But, I also have a Military paycheck.” He informed her. “Again,” He sighed, pressing his lips together. “I didn't want you paying for something I can pay myself. You buy enough things as is.”

“Well, I would have offered to pay for it.” She started, folding her legs. “But, I also would have offered you one of my guest rooms.”

Sy blinked at her, he hadn't expected that from her, it seemed a bit toward. That thought made him paused, blinking at himself. Did Austin 'Fuck and eat you out til you can't walk' Syverson just have an abstinent thought.

Holy fuck, I did! He thought, staring at her.

And it wasn't because Sy wasn't attracted to her, because he very much was.

She was a beautiful young lady. The way her eyes lit up, every time she smiled, even when she was being shy. She came just to his shoulder. Her hair looks so silk and soft, that it took everything in Sy's power not to reach out and caress his fingers through it to find out just how pillow-y soft it was. She was dainty, but had curves in all the right places, for Sy to hold onto her. He bit the inside corner of his lip, thinking about gripping those hips of hers and kneading them in his big mitts, to rub up against that plump, heart shaped ass, to grab or bury his face in those matching breasts.

Sy cleared his throat and took a deep gulp of his cooling coffee, praying his growing erection wasn't too obvious to her.

What a way to ruin it, Syverson. He berated himself, trying to rein himself back in.

“Anyway,” She said, breaking the silence and getting up off the swing. “The offer stands, if you want it.” She told him, and went back inside.

He stayed there long after she had gone upstairs to her office to start her own workday, even after his coffee cup was empty. He turned around, setting the empty cup on the railing and watched the sun slowly climb higher into the sky, before sighing and getting back to work, siding the back portion of the house; thinking he might start working on the roof next. Since Spring was due soon and the weatherman said it would be a cold and rainy one.

“I'm going to be late tomorrow.” Sy said, that afternoon.

“Okay.” Lily smiled, taking up his empty lunch plate and turned towards the sink. “Everything okay?” She asked, turning the faucet on to do them and the ones from breakfast.

“Everything's great.” Sy smiled, leaning back in his chair and grinning.

“I've never seen you smile so big, since we met.” She teased him, chuckling.

“I made a friend in Baghdad.” He explained, giddy. “She's finally over here in the States, so I need to pick her up at the airport.” He was excited about getting Aika again, even more so for Lily to meet her.

“I want you to meet her.” He added.

Lily's stomach clenched hearing him talk about whoever she was, a bit down to find out he apparently had someone special in his life. “I look forward to it.” She said, focusing on the plate in her hand.

“Great!” He beamed, getting up from the table. “I'm sure the two of you will be two peas in a pod!” He said, heading out the back door to finish his work.

“Totally.” Lily sighed, frowning to herself.

The next day, Lily was a complete wreck about meeting Sy's friend.

She had tossed and turned all night, barely getting any sleep as she kept thinking about the meet. She knew the woman was going to be gorgeous, why wouldn't she be, if Sy had been so excited about her being in the States and she was able to capture the attention of his ocean blues. Eventually, Lily got out of bed, tired of not finding a comfortable position and peace of mind to fall asleep. Besides, knowing her luck, she'd be subjected to dreaming about meeting the lady and all her, super model glory.

So, she padded down to her office and flipped on her computer, deciding to get her day started early and finish the few projects she had going on with a couple of clients. But, not even that helped her forget about the situation, if anything it made it worse, her leg impatiently bouncing to the tune of her agitation and self-pity. Running a hand through her hair for the hundredth time, before putting it back up, yet again, she huffed and stood up, pacing the floor of her office, from the window to the door, and back, biting her fingernails and mumbling to herself.

“Why would you even have the remotest chance with a guy like Austin Syverson?” She berated herself, yet again. “Good lord, look at the man! He's an actual man and you've never even kissed a boy. He's the whole package and you're just full of baggage. This is definition of friend zoned, and you bloody well know it!”

Sy had driven back to Austin after leaving Lily's place the night before. He was so excited to retrieve Aika from quarantine. It felt like an age since they last saw each other, but not as long as it might have felt, if he hadn't had Lily for company and the work on the farm to do, day in and day out.

“Fuck,” He huffed, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel. “I really hope the two of them get along.” He mumbled to himself, fidgeting in his seat. “Maybe, I should have told her about Aika. What if she's allergic to dogs, or doesn't even like them?” He questioned, suddenly doubting himself. “I know she likes horses, but a dog isn't a horse, and the horse isn't on her property.” He glanced at his mobile phone in the passenger seat, questioning if he should just call Lily and tell her he's bringing his dog to the farm, for her to meet.

“No.” Sy shook his head, brushing it off. “It'll be fine. This will be great! They'll get along perfectly and it'll be a happily ever after.” He nodded, pushing himself to be positive as he pulled into the facility to pick Aika up. “Captain Austin Syverson, here for my dog, Aika.” He told the lady at the front desk, then signed the release paperwork, while they brought her out to him.

“Hey, girl!” Sy called, as Aika charged for him. “Oh, I've missed you so much, bug!” He said, rubbing her erect ears and scratched down her back, making her back leg go wild. “I've got someone special I want you to meet.” He said, getting the German Shepherd into his truck. “You're going to love her.” He smiled at Aika, who licked his scruffy cheek.

“And she's probably going to spoil you rotten.” He chuckled, pulling out of the parking space.

“Oh shit.”

Lily gulped seeing the kicked up dust cloud on the driveway, as Sy's truck approached the house and felt her heart stop, knowing at any moment, she would be meeting his special lady in a matter of minutes. She had been trying all morning to put on a brave and supportive face, not wanting to make herself look like a fool in front of them. “I can't do this.” She gulped, running into the bathroom upstairs and vomited into the bowel several times, before quickly brushing and rinsing her mouth out.

“Afternoon, Lily!” Sy yelled, getting out and giving her a wave as she stepped out onto the porch, he was positively beaming. “You ready to meet her?” He asked, gripping the handle of the passenger door.

“Yep!” She called back, forcing a smile. “As I can be.” She mumbled under her breath as Sy opened the door.

A bark filled the humid air and a big German Shepherd jumped out of the truck, jumping on Sy a few times, before noticing Lily and bee-lining for her.

“Oh.” Lily gasped, surprised that Sy's special lady, was a dog. “Hey.” She grinned at Aika, bracing herself has Aika put her paws on her chest. “Aren't you a beauty.” She said, scratching her erect ears and relieved beyond all belief.

“See, I told you the two of you would get along.” Sy said, stepping up on the porch, relieved as well.

“That you did.” Lily agreed. “What's her name?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Aika.” He replied, scratching Aika all over. “I found her as a stray during my last deployment, she was just a pup. So, I took her in and took care of her. She's been stuck in Quarantine since before I got back, and they just released her today.” He explained as Aika bolted off the porch and zoomed around the front yard.

“You don't mind me having her here, do you?” He asked, biting the corner of his lip.

“Are you kidding?” Lily laughed, watching Aika disappear in the tall grass. “She's more than welcomed here.” She assured him, with a sweet smile. “Any time.”

“She's not really used to grass.” Sy laughed, as Aika attempted to pee on every blade she could. “You might get a few holes as well.” He added, knowing the Shepherd's like to dig.

“Please, I doubt anyone will notice.” Lily giggled, looking around the neglected yard.

Sy went to work on his latest project on the property and Aika spent most of the day running around the land, investigating what Sy was up to or lounging on the floor in Lily's office upstairs. Lily sighed and rubbed her face as the phone downstairs in the kitchen rang. She pushed back in her office chair and carefully stepped over Aika, to pad down the small set of stairs that led directly into the kitchen from the upstairs.

“Hello?” She chimed, pressing the receiver to her ear with her shoulder, waving at Sy as he passed the kitchen window and rounded the side of the house, then frowned, when no one answered her greeting. “Hello?” She repeated, a little bit louder. “Are you there?” She asked, checking to make sure the call was connected properly.

“What's wrong?” Sy frowned, stepping into the kitchen as the receiver fell to the floor at their feet.

“Nothing.” She squeaked, quickly bending to pick it up. “Just being clumsy.” She told him, hanging the phone up.

“Well, who was it?” He asked, tilting his head at her strange behavior.

“I don't know.” She replied, shrugging her shoulders and ran a hand through her hair, not turning around to look at him. “They never said anything. Must have been a wrong number or something.” She told him, heart thundering in her chest. “I need to finish my work.” She said, then rushed upstairs, leaving Sy staring up after her.

“I talked to your neighbor, Billie Marlowe.” Sy said, tugging a cloth out of his back pocket and wiped his face and head with it.

“Oh?” Lily replied, stirring a bit of honey into her tea.

“Yeah, he said, his daughter, Skylar, would be competing in a barrel racing competition this Sunday, in Dallas.” He told her, studying her carefully. “I was wondering, if you had thought about, maybe, going with me?” He asked, licking his lips.

Lily froze, the container of liquid creamer hovering over her steaming cup as she stared across the table at him, eyes wide. “I-”

“Oh, come on.” Sy pressed, brow creasing. “It's my treat. I'll drive and everything. It'll do you some good to leave the house.” He tried coaxing her. “Just for an hour or two.”

Lily continued to stare at Sy, her hand growing sweaty around the plastic container, before she set it down, her shoulders slumping as she did. “All right. Only for a few hours, then we come back. I have a deadline.”

Sy burst into a grin, his blue eyes bright. “Great.” He said, rubbing his hands together. “It doesn't start until eight and her competition doesn't start until eight-thirty. So, we'll have plenty of time.” He told her, excited to go to the fair with her.

Three days later, Sy got Lily in the car and they drove forty-five minutes from Celina to Dallas. The first few minutes in the car was quiet, until Luna's nerves got the best of her.

“When was the last time you went to a fair?” She asked, looking at him.

“Oh, man.” Sy huffed, frowning out the windshield as he considered it. “I think I was sixteen, it was an end of the year thing for my Junior year at high school. I didn't go to my Senior one, since I was getting ready for basic training.” He told her.

“What about you?” He asked, glancing at her.

“Never.”

“You've never been to one?” Sy snapped, shocked.

“Nope.” She shook her head at him.

“Not even for school?”

“I was home schooled.” She explained. “My dad thought they were a suck and waste of money.”

“That's the point.” Sy laughed, shaking his head. “Wasting money on artery clogging food and probably unsafe rides. It's a rush, but mostly from all the sugar.” He grinned at her, amused.

“You'll love it, I swear.”

“I'll take your word for it, Captain.” Lily smiled back, hoping he didn't see how freaked out she was.

They finally reached the fair grounds and a place to park, Sy got them all access bracelets, so giddy as they entered the fair grounds. Lily took several deep breaths as the crowd around them thickened and stuck close to Sy. She really didn't want to ruin Sy's fun at the fair, he had been jabbering about it since she agreed to go with him, telling her about the all fun rides and food. He was like a little boy, reliving his first fair experience, and she knew it had been over ten years since he had been to one. So, she put on a brave face and tried to smile, every time he glanced at her.

Which was every few seconds.

Sy and Lily got on several rides to kill the half hour until the barrel-racing competition started under one of the big tents set up in the huge field. She rather enjoyed the Ferris wheel, just her and Sy in one seat, spaced out from everyone else on the ride. She did think she was going to throw up on the sudden drop ride, but managed to keep it down, making Sy laugh at her as he saw her face from the corner of his eye as the two of them got off the ride.

“You all right?” He chuckled, resting his hand on the small of her back.

“I think, my stomach is somewhere between my brain and my toes.” She chuckled, despite herself.

“It'll even out again.” Sy laughed with her, rubbing her back.

“Ladies and Gentleman, boys and girls,” the fair announcer came over the intercom system throughout the fair. “The Barrel-Racing Competition is due to start in ten minutes, in tent number six! So, find your seats now!” He informed the herd of fair-goers.

“Oh, we should head out that way.” Sy said, pulling out the little fair map and directed them towards the tent. “Why don't you find us a place to sit and I'll go get us something to munch and sip on.” He told her, at the tent's entrance.

“Sy..”

“It'll take two minutes.” He told her, squeezing her shoulder, then disappearing into the crowd that was trying to funnel into the tent.

“Fuck, Austin.” Lily gulped, starting to tremble as she turned into the tent and looked for somewhere to sit, before finding a place in the second row, near the exit.

Sy weaved around the countless people in the main walkway of the fair, before spotting a food vendor with something he thought Lily would love to try out and headed that direction, to standing in line. He was only in the line for a moment, when he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see who it was, breaking out into a smile.

“Mr. Marlowe.” He greeted the farmer, sticking his hand out to the other man.

“Please, just call me Billie.” Marlowe replied, smiling up at Sy and shook his hand.

“Sy.” Sy answered. “You must be excited to see your little girl compete.” He said, as they stood side by side and progressed through the line.

“That I am.” Billie beamed, like the proud papa he was. “I am surprised at you though.” He added, pulling off his John Deere hat, ran his hand through his short, salt and pepper hair, and rubbed the over-tanned skin of his neck.

“Why's that?” Sy frowned, shaking his head.

“I saw Ms. Lily with you.” Billie replied as they got to the counter. “My farm has been in my family for four generations. I knew the couple that lived at Ms. Lily's place, when I was a lad. They passed away and their kids didn't want to be farmers, so they sold the place and Ms. Lily bought it a few years back. In that time, I have never seen her leave the property. The closest I've ever seen was when she fetches the mail, and she does that in a jiffy.” He laughed, stepping up to one of the two cashiers, while Sy went to the other.

“What do you mean?” Sy frowned, then gave the cashier an order for two elephant ears, a coke for himself and a Dr. Pepper for Lily.

“Oh.” Billie frowned, realizing Sy had no clue.

“'Oh', what?” Sy pressed, annoyed.

“You don't know about Ms. Lily being Agoraphobic?” Billie asked slowly, blinking at Sy with a shocked look. “I thought you knew. Practically everyone in Celina knows about it. My boy, Travis, who works at the Celina supermarket, even gets her groceries for her and delivers them, and everything.”

Sy floundered, his mouth opening and closing for a moment. “I didn't.” He sighed, clearing his throat. “I just thought she was a home-body.” He said, shaking his head. “Well, I suppose she is a home-body, it's just a bit more complicated than that.”

He felt silly, all of the signs were there, right in front of his oblivious face. He had never seen her leave the property in the weeks he was there working. She was always, either, in the house or on the porch, the furthest from the house he had ever seen her was the mailbox. She got clearly anxious about any mention of leaving to go anywhere, and her car hadn't moved since the first time he saw it in the dirt driveway. Everything made so much sense to him now, with the sudden realization he had left her, alone, in a tent full of complete strangers.

“Shit!” He barked, taking the food and drinks and rushing back to the tent. “Are you okay?” He asked, as soon as he found her in the crowded stands.

“Other than starving, I'm all right.” She replied, looking up at him.

“You're sure?” He asked and sat down beside her, he could see the tremble in her shoulders. “You're shaking.” He pointed out, his brow creasing with concern.

Why did I push her into this! He berated himself mentally.

“I'm just cold.” She frowned back, which wasn't a complete lie, it was rather nippy out and she had left her jacket in the truck.

“Oh.” Sy gulped at her, setting their snacks down on the empty bench in front of them and peeled off his Five Finger Death Punch hoodie. “Here.” He said, handing her the toasty warm garment.

“Thanks.” She blushed, pulling it on.

The comforting warmth of the fabric settled around her, wrapping her up in Sy's scent of dark vanilla, the fresh cut pine boards he had been working with, fresh air and patchouli, from his beard oil. The tremor vibrating through her body instantly subsided as she huddled herself up inside Sy's hoodie, suddenly feeling safe, safer than she had ever felt in her life before, the murmur of the crowd vanished and everyone melted away, but Sy.

Sy smiled at her, watching as she stopped shaking. “Are you still hungry?” He asked her, picking up the heavy paper plate with the lumpy and sweet pastry dough on it, covered in butter, cinnamon and brown sugar.

“What in the world is that?” She frowned down at it.

“It's called an Elephant Ear.” He chuckled, letting her take the plate from him and picked up his own. “It's delicious.”

“It's as big as one!” She chuckled, balancing it in her lap and pushed up the oversized sleeves of Sy's hoodie, not wanting to get it messy as she tore a piece of the dough off and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm.” She melted, licking her coated lips. “That is sinful.” She moaned, smiling over at Sy, who simply folded his and took a massive bite out of it.

“I told you!” He mumbled around his mouthful, grinning ear to ear.

“I might have to learn how to make these.” Lily said, tearing off a bigger piece and licked her fingers clean of the cinnamon and sugar combination.

“Oh, don't threaten to spoil a man!” Sy laughed, gently touching his shoulder to hers.

“Hey, here she is!” Lily called out, pointing to the girl entering the center of the tent atop a horse. “They look so good together!” She grinned, beaming with her own dose of pride in Skylar and Juniper.

Lily lifted her hand and waved as Skylar looked out over the crowd, she spotted Lily and waved back at her, smiling. Skylar got herself and Juniper into position, taking deep breaths to try and settle her jittery nerves and focus on her task ahead. Skylar was given the signal and she was off, speeding as fast as she and Juniper could go towards the first barrel in front of them. Lily scooted towards the edge of her seat, her half eaten elephant ear forgotten in her excitement. Skylar seemingly sailed through the cloverleaf pattern she had to make around the barrels and back to her mark.

The crowd clapped as she went out, letting the next rider and their horse take their turn at the competition. Lily finished off her elephant ear and sipped at her Dr. Pepper, eyes glued to the beautiful horses and focused riders as they went around and around the barrels, kicking up dirt as they went.

“I really hope she wins.” Lily said, looking at Sy, only to realize he had been watching her the whole time, and not the racers. “What?” She squeaked, eyes wide. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No.” He smiled back, then chuckled. “Well..” He picked up the paper napkin he was given with the elephant ears and gently brushed off a line of brown sugar and cinnamon that Lily had on her cheek. “Just a little sugar.” He told her, softly.

“But, other than that, you're...” He paused for a moment. “Perfect.” He whispered, breathlessly.

Lily gulped and her cheeks warmed, biting the inside of her lip and fidgeted inside Sy's hoodie. “Thank you.” She mumbled back. “For the..” She motioned to her cheek, shyly.

“Of course.” Sy nodded, a tender smile on his lips. “But, I hope she wins too.” He added, turning back to the event.

“All right everybody, it's time to announce the winners for first, second and third place!” The announcer said, standing in the middle of the racing area, a microphone in his hand and a big cowboy hat on his head, as his boots shined with their spurs.

Lily crossed her fingers, making Sy chuckle at her.

“In third place is,” the announcer said, lifting a clipboard he was holding. “Paige Whitley with thirty-four seconds!”

The crowd clapped and whistled as the girl came up and took her ribbon for third place, then stood to one side of the announcer.

“In second place is, Ainsley Ortega with twenty-eight seconds!”

Another round of claps, whistling and yells from the crowd as she took her place beside Paige. There was a moment of pause and the suspense was starting to drive Lily stir crazy as they waited for him to announce the first place winner.

“and the first place winner of the Dallas Heritage Fair is,” He paused for a dramatic affect. “Skylar Marlowe with twenty-one seconds!”

“Yes!” Lily shouted, her arms flying up as she bounced in her seat, overjoyed. “She did it, Sy.” She grinned at him, throwing her arms around his neck, in her moment of overzealous excitement, forgetting herself.

“She did.” Sy grinned, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her back.

He unconsciously turned his face into her hair and took a deep breath, smelling her Lavender and Rosemary shampoo in it. They stayed like that, in a timeless bubble, before they recalled themselves and pulled apart again.

“I'm sorry, I was excited.” Lily blushed, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Same.” Sy replied, clearing his throat. “I should get you back home now, it's been two hours.” He said, picking up their empty plates, napkins and soda cans, standing.

“I-” Lily froze, watching him dump them into a trash bin nearby. “I don't—mind—staying another hour, if you're not.” She told him, a hard lump in her throat. “I mean, there's so much of the fair I haven't seen, since it's my first time, and you spent a pretty penny on our access bracelets.” She said, lifting her arm, the sleeve of his hoodie slipped down her arm, revealing her red bracelet.

“Be rude and a shame to waste it, don't you think?” She asked, staring at him, shyly.

Sy studied her for a moment, weighing what he knew of her now, but she looked and seemed all right, for the most part, just her usual shy and withdrawn self. “If you want too, Lily. Then, I'm more than all right with staying and showing you the rest of the booths.” He said, his voice soft and—protective.

“I would like that.”

Sy smiled at her, gently, then offered her his arm, which she took. He escorted them out of the tent, with the rest of the fair-goers. Sy took her around the fair ground, stopping at booths that Lily showed interest in. He paused at one booth, seeing all the stuffed animals that were hanging around it and pressed his lips together, before glancing at her and deciding to give it a shot, wanting to win something for her, so when she saw it, she'd remember the fun she had at the fair; and think of him.

It was a shooting game booth, giving the player a minute to hit as many targets as they could, each target was worth a certain amount of points and moved quickly. But, Sy wasn't at all worried, this was his element, his military career made something like this easy. So, he took up the bee-bee rifle that the booth runner gave him, slotted it against his shoulder and held it through pure muscle memory. He patiently waited for the signal for him to start, watching the painted metal targets move on their tracks.

“Ready!” the booth runner called, standing to the side. “Set! Go!”

Sy's body instantly tensed and he started firing, his movement was sharp, quick and calculated, hips and shoulders pivoting as he hit each of the targets, only missing two in the full minute he had. Lily stood beside him, fully impressed by his skill.

“Seven hundred and forty-nine points.” the booth runner read off the scoreboard at the back of the booth. “That's the highest score yet!” He said, impressed himself. “You have a pick of whatever you want, sir.” He told Sy, motioning around to the stuffed animals, some were super teeny, while others were nearly Lily's size.

Sy surveyed the selection of stuffed animals, before a certain one caught his attention and smiled at it, it was perfect for why he wanted it. “That's the one.” He said, pointing out the medium sized, curly furred and light tan, teddy bear.

“A perfect choice, sir.” the booth runner praised him, taking it down and handing it over to Sy.

“Here.” Sy smiled, turning and holding it out to Lily. “He's for you.” He told her, gently, as his heart thundered in his chest.

Lily slowly took the bear from him, it was silk soft and plush, it felt nice under her hands, making her instantly smile as she stared down at it. She was touched that Sy had gone through the trouble of winning the game to get her a prize, no one had ever done something so kind, sweet and thoughtful for her before, it made her a bit emotional.

“Thank you.” She whispered, hugging it to her chest and looked up at Sy. “I love it.” She assured him, seeing the concern in his blue eyes that she wouldn't.

“Good.” He beamed, his heart still thundering, but it felt light and hopeful. “I'm glad.”

It was nearly dark by the time Lily and Sy finished their tour of the fair grounds and headed back to the house. Lily convinced Sy to stay for dinner before he headed back home, wanting to thank him in someway for taking her to the fair and showing her such a good time, something she hadn't had in as long as she could remember.

“Your cooking never fails to amaze me.” Sy chuckled, popping the last bit of his biscuit into his mouth. “It's the definition of a great home cooked meal.” He praised her, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his lean tummy through the fabric of his shirt.

“Well, you have the appetite of a Viking.” She giggled back, blushing at her plate.

Sy laughed again, his own bearded cheeks coloring. “True enough.” He agreed, smiling brightly at her.

“Thank you for taking me today.” Lily said, speaking softly. “I really did have a lot of fun.” She confessed, shyly twisting her napkin in her hands, and thinking of the teddy bear that now took up a prized spot on her bed, upstairs.

“I did too, I'm glad you agreed to go with me.” Sy nodded, tilting his head at her. “Did us both a great deal of good to get out and do something fun.”

“I should let you take off, before it gets too late.” She answered, after a brief moment of silence. “I know it's a long drive.”

Sy cleared his throat, biting the inside of his lip, he didn’t want to bring up staying at the motel down in Celina, so the drive was easier to make and gave him more hours in the day to work on the seemingly endless list of projects that needed to be done, to get the farm back into running order, again. He didn’t want them to argue after such an amazing day.

But, he knew she was right.

“Thanks for dinner.” He said, taking his plate to the sink, wanting a reason to linger a second longer. “Good night, Ms. Lily.” He smiled at her, as they stepped out onto the porch. “I'll see you in the morning.”

“I'll be here, with coffee and breakfast waiting, as always.” She replied, standing barefoot on the smooth and solid board of the porch.

He chuckled, bidding her good night again and got into his truck. As he drove to the motel, he recalled all the smiles she had given him throughout the day and the sound of her victorious laugh, when she beat him at the ring toss game, but sweetly gave him the bracelet she won, making him glance at the macrame, blue and gold turquoise beads weaved with black thread and tied with a slip knot, that hugged his thick wrist. His skin tingled as it remembered the gentle touch of her dainty fingers as she slipped it over his hand to his wrist and tugged it secure.

Sy wasn't a jewelry person, other than his watch and his dog-tags, but for as long as he lived, he vowed to never take that bracelet off.

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

The Farm

Damian Wayne x Jon Kent

Summary: just 2 boys in love but won’t admit it. I have the attention span of a butterfly so this is as close as I get to a slow burn lmao. I just think they are adorable and I headcanon Damian as demisexual. I did actually age them above 18 but this is sfw. Only a little kissing. There’s a bigot but he gets punched.

“I heard about the farm,” Damian said as they sat on a rooftop in New York. “Sorry.” They were drinking milkshakes after saving the city. Well Jon was as Damian had a vegan smoothie instead.

“Yeah, they foreclosed,” Jon said, his bright blue eyes uncharacteristically stony. “Thanks. Just wasn’t expecting it is all.”

“You know I could help you.. financially. If you need,” Damian offered carefully. Jon shifted in his seat and took a drink of his shake.

“It’s not your job. I’ll figure out how to keep it. Don’t worry,” Jon said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Congrats on vet school. Not that it’s a surprise. You were top of your class.”

“Oh thanks. But seriously, I have no problem writing a check right now, Jon,” Damian emphasized. Jon stared at him silently. It was so tempting to let Damian solve his problems but that wasn’t the Kent way.

“I don’t know,” Jon said shifting uncomfortably. Damian noted that it wasn’t a no.

“I will be going to school in Metropolis in the fall. The farm in Smallville is a lot closer to the university than my place in Gotham,” Damian said hoping to come off as casual. Apparently not as Jon almost fell off the roof in shock.

“Live- with me,” he asked, his eyebrows rose quickly.

“Oh, I suppose. Yes, that is what I would be proposing,” Damian answered. Jon looked at him with wide eyes before clearing his throat and softening the look on his face to more neutral. Damian definitely wasn’t meaning ‘moving in’ moving in. He was just being practical. He wasn’t in love with Jon the same way Jon was head over heels for Damian since he was like 13.

“It would be practical for us both,” he said and Jon relaxed. Yep, normal Damian not thinking of the social meaning of his words.

“I don’t have a butler,” Jon warned. “And I sometimes forget to do laundry or dishes.”

“Then I will make a chore chart,” Damian answered and Jon’s heart soared a little at the domestics of it all. Jon nodded with a grin.

“So when do I get my roommate?” Jon asked lightly. Or what he hoped was lightly. His farm was saved and Damian was moving in. He was surprised he wasn’t levitating yet.

“I need to sell my apartment first. And pack,” Damian contemplated. “Also I need to buy the farm. I’ll need 4 days.”

“4?!? I mean- that’s fine,” Jon answered. He began immediately imagining all the work he needed to do before Damian could move in. “You work fast.”

“Yes, money talks,” Damian answered as if it was normal for a 20 year old to say. Jon nodded and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

True to his words, a moving truck showed up 4 days later. Jon had cleaned and organized everything, even scrubbing the walls and sweeping the barn. The workers quickly set up everything in the spare room just as Damian arrived.

Damian arriving was a sight Jon would never forget. Damian wore a black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up and a tan pair of dress pants over shiny black leather shoes as he carried in a large paper bag of produce. Damian had grown so much from the tiny 13 year old Jon had first known. He was now a full inch taller than Jon and probably 10 lbs heavier. It was funny since Jon was the one currently running around as Superman.

Damian sat his bag on the kitchen counter and wiped sweat from his brow. Jon was much more casually dressed in old blue jeans and a white t shirt with a rolled up and open red plaid button down over it. An old blue baseball cap was thrown over backwards on his head and little curls stuck out.

“You brought food. You know this is a farm, right?” Jon said with a smile. “We’re kinda known for having food.”

“I brought food to cook tonight,” Damian said trying to be casual. He had actually taken far too long deciding on the perfect food for him and Jon to eat their first night as roommates.

“Are you cooking for me?” Jon said with a pleased smile. The moving company was leaving and it was just the two of them.

“Yes, I thought it would be a good start,” Damian said formally. “No need to be so happy. It’s just dinner.”

“Of course,” Jon said trying to straighten his face. But how could he when Damian was living with him and cooking for him? Impossible task.

Damian busied himself in the small kitchen, looking in every drawer and cabinet. He noted that in the dying evening light, it perfectly captured the sunset. That was something that people paid huge amounts to even glimpse from their place in Gotham and Jon got a 360 view everyday.

“Well I have to feed the animals but I’ll be back soon. Do you need anything before I go?” Jon said in the doorway to the kitchen. He had thrown on a pair of rubber boots.

“Tt, you dare care for animals without me?” Damian said with a frown.

“Well I just thought- I mean you can- but you’re cooking,” Jon sputtered and Damian smiled.

“I’m playing with you. I’ll see them tomorrow. Otherwise the meal will be ruined,” Damian said. Jon laughed and shook his head as he left.

Damian looked at the photos that lined the hallway, smiling as he saw pictures of Jon as a child. Jon holding a fish he caught. Jon swinging a baseball bat. Jon holding up one end of a tractor. Right above it was a young Clark Kent doing the same. Damian shook his head with a little smile. He would never admit it but he was head over heels for Jon. Had been for a few years now.

“That’s the first time I lifted a tractor,” Jon said beside him. “Dad was so proud.”

“I imagine,” Damian answered. Clark was such a sore subject for Jon. His father had only been presumed dead the year before. Jon took it hard. He didn’t speak but watched Jon from the corner of his eyes.

“He never wanted to force me to be Superboy. I practically begged him. He was scared it was too dangerous,” Jon said with a sad smile. They both walked in the kitchen and Damian finished the food. Damian brought it to the table just as Jon shyly brought out a bottle of wine.

“Mr Kent, where did you get that?” Damian said with a little smile.

“Actually there’s an entire wine cellar full of the good stuff. Your father is quite fond of giving wine as a gift and Dad never liked to drink. So he stored it here,” Jon said pulling out a wine opener. “I thought we could drink it for him.”

“That’s very illegal,” Damian said expertly opening the bottle. “We’re both technically underage.”

“Anything is legal with enough money,” Jon said with a little grin and Damian laughed.

I’m an awful influence,” Damian replied. They spend the rest of the night eating and drinking wine before both crashing in their separate rooms in the early morning.

Jon crawled out of bed only a few hours later to feed the animals and get started on his day. He thanked his Kryptonian DNA for the lack of hang over he worried Damian would have. He crept quietly past his roommate’s door on his way out.

Jon returned a few hours later, still rather early, and was surprised by the smell of coffee. Damian was cooking breakfast for him. For them, Jon reminded himself. Damian was just his roommate. Damian nodded and poured Jon a cup of coffee.

“I thought you would still be asleep,” Jon admitted.

“I don’t require much sleep. Plus I want a tour of the property,” he said. Practical Damian as always, Jon thought.

“Sure, I’ll take you around. The farm and then town,” Jon added taking a huge plate of scrambled tofu and fried tomatoes. Damian had anticipated that.

“That’s a good plan. I don’t want to stand out in town. Should I wear a plaid shirt,” Damian asked.

“Uh, yeah. If you want. T shirts and jeans are fine too,” Jon said.

“May i borough these clothing from you? Mine are not appropriate for a farm,” Damian said casually and Jon willed himself to not have any emotion that Damian was going to wear his clothing.

Damian was extremely handsome in Jon’s plaid shirt and a pair of jeans. His bright green eyes and tan skin popped in the shirt and he had brushed his black hair neatly back as it had gotten long enough to fall in his eyes. Jon couldn’t help but stare at his Damian in his clothing. Logic be damned.

“What?” Damian asked looking at himself. “Does it look bad? I don’t want to appear foolish,” he said about to pull off the plaid shirt.

“No! No you look good. Nice,” Jon said and Damian’s lip twitched towards a smile.

“Thank you. Would you like to show me town first? Before we get muddy,” Damian said.

“Sure, that sounds good. I need to pick up feed anyways,” Jon said. They loaded into Jon’s old pickup. Krypto hopped into Damian’s lap as if he always had done it and they set off to town a few miles away.

“Here’s the library and the best Waffle House in Kansas. Second only to Ma Kent’s,” Jon said as they drove around. He showed Damian all the important sights in town. Damian had a hard time believing that everything was so compact and so small. Even the diner that Jon said they would eat lunch because they had the best pie short of Ma Kent.

They both, and Krypto, got out at the feed store and they treated Jon like old friends. He grabbed a basket and pushed it to the back as he chatted about all the interesting animals people owned to Damian. The Ferguson’s owned a pair of alpacas and old Skipper Smith had a parrot and monkey as pets.

Jon didn’t pay any attention as he easily lifted 4 50 lb bags of feed and casually put 200 lbs of feed in the basket. Damian looked around to see no one near. Jon did it again.

“Should get us through the week,” he said with a grin.

“You do know that most people don’t pick up 4 at once?” Damian told him quietly as they moved to the register. Jon stopped before nodded and laughing.

“You know I’ve never thought about it. Let’s get going before the diner gets a lunch rush,” he said. Jon tried to act more normal putting up the feed bags but tossing them one handed like bags of bread into the bed of a pick up truck was far from normal. Damian couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

The diner had about 12 booths and a row across the counter like old times. It probably was an older restaurant with the light blue tile and actual jukebox. Damian didn’t know what rush hour could possibly look like with all 7 people he’d seen since entering town but Jon seemed pleased to be earlier than them.

An older lady laid down a menu between them both and offered them coffee with a big grin. Jon ordered a chicken fried steak and Damian ended up getting the waffles. It was the only thing probably vegetarian on the menu.

“Oh shoot, I forgot you don’t eat meat. Sorry. Should I change my order,” Jon said raising his hand.

“No,” Damian said grasping Jon’s hand and pulling it down to the table. Jon’s heart just about beat out of his chest. “It’s fine. You don’t have to change what you eat for me.”

“Okay,” Jon said and the waitress came back to the table with drinks and eyed Damian’s hand on Jon’s.

“This your new partner, Kent,” she asked and Jon noted the judge tone to her voice as she sat down their glasses. Homophobia was still alive in the country. Damian didn’t notice.

“Yes, I just moved in last night,” Damian answered and Jon was frozen in time. Damian doesn’t understand what he means, Jon thought. He can’t.

“Oh, is that right? Took off to the city and brought back a city slicker. Well, each to their own,” she said with a passive aggressive smile. Jon sighed as she walked away. He didn’t know how to explain that to Damian. Was Damian even gay? Too late now. The whole town thought he was.

After eating their meal, Jon asked the waitress for pie to go. The diner had filled up and far too many people were glancing at the pair. Damian assumed it was because he was new in town or possibly they recognized him as a Wayne. Jon knew it was that he had brought home a man. Damian also didn’t quite pass as white with his tan skin and Arabic features so probably a dash of racism too.

Jon drive down to the park at the edge of town and parked by the pond. He put on a nice face but worried that Damian wouldn’t have as easy time in Smallville as Jon hoped.

“Something on your mind, Kent,” Damian said, sitting on the back hatch of the truck watching, the ducks swim.

“Nothing. Maybe I’m a little tired. Should have gone to bed earlier last night,” he said with a laugh. Damian looked at him out the corner of his eye but said nothing and continued eating his pie.

“This pie is made with quality,” Damian said and Jon smiled.

“Better than Alfred’s?”

“Different. Alfred makes amazing meat pies but he never quite understood American pies,” Damian answered. Jon nodded.

“I have to work the rest of the week,” he warned Damian.

“I have plenty of paperwork to keep me busy,” Damian answered. Jon knew he never had to worry about Damian that way. He always kept busy. This was probably his longest break.

The next 3 weeks consisted of getting up early to care for the animals before Jon left to work at the local paper. Damian would jog 3 miles down the dirt road that the Kent farm sat at the end of. By the end of the first week, a few of the neighbors would even wave at him. Jon counted himself as having the will of a Green Lantern to leave before Damian returned every morning. Damian was a sight to behold in his post workout glow pre-shower. He would come home and most of the time Damian was cooking dinner for him. Jon was really falling for the domestics of it all.

“Don’t get used to it, Kent,” Damian warned after Jon complimented an amazing dish Damian made. “Once school starts I can not act as a housewife to you.”

“You aren’t- Dami, you’re far from a housewife,” Jon sputtered. “I know that Flamebird has been seen in metropolis a few times this week alone.”

“Well, I needed to keep busy,” Damian said with a shrug. “Eat your eggplant.”

“I’ve probably eaten more vegetables this week than I have since I would summer with Ma,” Jon said. “But this is pretty good.”

“You’re welcome,” Damian said with a pleased smile. After dinner they sat on the swing on the porch and swung as they watched the sunset like an old married couple. Damian looked at Jon more often than he needed to as they talked about nothing. Jon was so pretty in the golden light. His bright blue eye and freckles looked adorable to Damian.

“And then in August we harvest-“ Jon had been saying before Damian cupped his face and pushed his lips against Jon’s. It was rough and their teeth clanged together and Jon pulled back with an “ow.”

“Shit,” Damian said, moving to get up. “I shouldn’t have- forget I-“

“Wait,” Jon said and Damian froze. He looked so uncertain and Jon had never seen that before. “Can we- can we try again?”

“You don’t have to pity me,” Damian said curtly, getting up. “Forget I did that. I apologize,” he said going inside.

Jon sat for a minute in shock. He had been in love with Damian forever and Damian finally kissed him and he couldn’t even enjoy it. Jon went inside and stood in front of Damian’s door. His hand tentatively considered knocking but Jon couldn’t do it. Just as he turned to walk away, Damian opened his door.

“I have to go to Gotham,” he said suddenly.

“What? If it’s me, you don’t have to leave,” Jon said quickly.

“No. My brothers need me,” Damian said and Jon noticed he had his suit on under his clothing.

“Do I need to come?”

“No. It’s okay. I’ll be back later this week hopefully,” Damian said dashing outside. The screen door swung and slapped the doorframe loudly. Jon ran on the porch.

“Week?” He called as Damian’s car pulled out the drive.

Jon fretted and obsessively watched the news everyday. Krypto was getting anxious without his 3 mile jog every morning. Late on the fourth day after Damian left, Jon heard the front door open. He raced to the door. Damian looked weary and had a slight limp.

“Hi,” Jon said looking Damian over and Damian offered a tired smile. Nothing broken. “Do you need help?”

“No. I need to sleep and I will be fine,” Damian said stubbornly. Jon rolled his eyes and helped him to his bed.

“Do you need anything?”

“No thank you. I will probably sleep late tomorrow,” Damian warned.

“Sure. Of course,” Jon said slowly closing the door as Damian fell asleep. Jon barely slept that night and got up early and called out of work for the day. Damian got up uncharacteristically late around 10 am.

“How are you?” Jon asked, offering him coffee. Damian took the drink before sitting next to Jon. He had a black eye and that limp was still around. The sun shone in bright in the kitchen and Damian was once again reminded the vast difference between smallville and Gotham.

“I’m fine. Thanks,” he said quietly. Jon didn’t want to pounce Damian the first second he got home but it was very hard to not want to talk about the kiss.

“You got mail,” Jon said, handing Damian a big Manila envelope that had come in the day before. Damian wordlessly opened it as he sipped coffee.

“Oh it’s yours,” he handed it over to Jon. Jon opened it with a confused look.

It was a deed. The Kent farm deed. The Kent farm deed in Jon’s name. He looked up at Damian who had a tired half smile.

“It’s in my name. You put it in my name,” he said. “W-why?”

“It’s the Kent farm. There’s too many things with the Wayne name on it,” he shrugged. “Plus I’m far from a farmer. It should be yours.”

“God Damian,” Jon said with tears in his eyes. He pulled Damian into a hug who squawked a protest that Jon ignored. “Thank you. I can’t- thank you,” he said wetly. Damian ignored how Jon was quietly crying on him. His grandma and dad passing had affected him hard and Damian knew he was crying over more than a house and land.

“You’re welcome,” Damian finally whispered and Jon cried even harder. Damian softly pat his back awkwardly. Jon leaned back but didn’t let Damian go. He gazed at Damian with the softest look.

“God Damian,” Jon repeated. “Do you even know how much I love you?”

Damian froze and just blinked at Jon who had pulled back but not out of the hug. “What?” He simply said and Jon’s face started to contort in pain. “Hold on,” Damian said and Jon warily looked at him. Damian knew he had to lean in or Jon would take it back and Damian would be too scared to do anything until Jon did this again. And he wasn’t sure how long Jon would wait.

Damian gently cupped Jon’s face in his hands and Jon breathed in quickly. Damian was clearly nervous. Damian noted how his face was soft and his skin warm. This time he gently bent over and softly pressed his lips against Jon’s. Jon quickly reacted by leaning in toward Damian. Jon could feel the rough pads of Damian’s fingers and taste the coffee Damian had been drinking. After a short while, Damian pulled back but not away.

“I truly care for you too,” he said softly and Jon grinned. “I’ve cared for you for a long time.”

“Same,” Jon said before leaning in to kiss Damian again. Damian kissed for another few seconds before pulling back again. This time Jon tried to follow his lips before stopping. Jon’s breath was erratic and fast. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“No. It’s okay. I’ve just never- I’ve never“ Damian started a bit lost for words. Jon understood what he meant.

“You’ve never been with a man,” Jon said gently.

“I’ve never taken the time for relationships with anyone. I’ve always been too busy,” Damian admitted. He played with the edge of a napkin nervously. He would never openly admit to being worried that his lack of experience was a flaw.

“We can go slow. Whatever you want,” Jon said and he finally looked at Damian the way he had never let himself before: like he was in love with him. Damian nodded.

“I’ve just never found anyone that interesting. I mean, beside you. After a while. I wanted to throw you off a bridge at first,” Damian said and Jon smiled.

“I know. You told me,” Jon said. “We should go out to eat. There’s a place downtown that has vegan options.”

“I didn’t even know there was a downtown here,” Damian admitted and Jon laughed.

“It’s a small town. Not a hut in the woods.”

The place wasn’t ‘rush hour’ packed but had plenty of tables with patrons. Damian and Jon sat at a booth and Damian almost couldn’t handle the lovey way Jon was looking at him. Jon was staring at Damian like he was the moon, even though Damian stood out like a sore thumb in the rural town in his turtleneck and dress slacks. But that was his comfort clothing and he had given up on fitting in long ago.

“I’m going to the restroom. Order for me?” Damian asked and Jon nodded. As Damian walked towards the back of the restaurant, a man in a brown jacket and rubber boots purposefully shoved Damian with his shoulder as he walked by. Damian turned to glare at him.

“Sorry, didn’t see any fruitcakes around here,” the guy said and Damian bristled. Before he could make a scene, Jon moved over to them.

“Hi Tyler. Do we have a problem here?” Jon said uncharacteristically cold. That guy didn’t realize that he picked the worst pair to insult. Tyler looked between Damian and Jon before deciding the fight wasn’t worth it.

“Nothing worth it,” Tyler said turning around. “Bad enough to bring a fruitcake to town, it had to a brown one too,” he muttered and Damian stiffened. He knew that he got looks when he went into town. He was probably the only person that spoke more than English or Spanish in town and certainly the only one to speak Arabic.

But before Damian could do anything else but feel disgust, Jon had punched the guy in the face. Well it was more of a flick with his fist but the guy went down like a rock. Damian hid his smile as him and Jon were hurried out of the restaurant with their food to go by a worried waitress who apologized to the pair.

As they walked back to the pickup truck, Damian reached out and grabbed Jon’s hand who lit up almost instantly. Damian ignored the butterflies in his stomach as he walked. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Jon either.

“You know, it’s not everyday that a guy gets Superman to defend his honor,” Damian said quietly but playfully and Jon laughed.

“Can’t handle bigots. I’ll let you punch the next one,” Jon said with a shrug.

“I would have punched that one,” Damian answered. He turned and pulled Jon to face him before taking his free hand that wasn’t carrying a bag. Damian gently cupped Jon’s face to place a kiss on Jon’s lips before going back to walking. Jon had a stupid smile all the way back home.

#Damian Wayne x Jon kent #Damian Wayne #damijon #mlm dc fanfic #Jon kent #robin x Superboy #Damian is flamebird and Jon is Superman #Jon kent x Damian Wayne #fns pride edition

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jmoriarty-221b · 3 years

Text

So I saw somewhere a post that talked about how some fictional characters just have a divorce vibe going on, like, at no point in time were they ever married but they just give off that feeling that they got divorced

And now I can only think of Clark Kent and Lex Luthor having that vibe

And I spent close to an hour talking about this to my sibling and how it would be a good idea for a new DC show like, you can make so much money off of just the main Batfam alone and there are literally so many people in there that it’s just an amazing idea to have them all in a show together but kind of like a Good Luck Charlie kinda thing because there’s more than enough angst in the world

But in the case of not having enough of a budget for so many characters in one show I turned to the Superfam (Batfam is Huge like, I don’t even know half of the extended family version and that’s like at least ten characters so I could see why it wouldn’t be entirely feasible to have a show that included everyone while still being good with nice character development without having a billion dollars for the budget)

The Superfam, in my personal experience, is composed of Ma & Pa Kent (farm vibes plus I refuse to have either of them die in my AU), Clark Kent (main Superman), Lois Lane (Lana? was Smallville Lois i guess??? But idk enough about her so she’s not here), Jon Kent (Superboi II), Kara Danvers (Supergirl) & Conner Kent (Superboi I)

Now I’ve stopped watching CW shows like, forever ago??? But my brother kinda keeps up with them and basically the gist is that the ratings of every other show suck Except for the Superman & Lois show (because it’s 💫new💫) and I saw the cover of the poster like “Ah, the werewolf dude. . . mmmhhmmm that’s Lois yes, yes that’s Johnny boi, and um is that???? Nooooo, they wouldn’t do that to Conner right???? Please tell me they didn’t make Conner blonde” and I was informed that the blonde teen is Chris???? Like

Whoms’t do ye speak of

I’m not even joking but the only way I even know of Chris is from a random fanfic I read where Dick Grayson gets his own super from an alternate reality named Chris, that’s my only point of reference for this character

But let’s talk about how Conner Kent (OG Superboi) was excluded

Now I haven’t seen any episodes of this and I probably never will (no hate I’m just really unmotivated to start new shows at all) so idk if they might mention Conner or even allude to him in one scene or something

But this was my main motivator as to my new Superfam TV Show Idea

Have Lex Luthor not be a Superman villain, he’s mainly a successful businessman, a little shady but who isn’t, and he doesn’t want to Kill Superman, he just wants to be able to have some sort of viable protection against a Kryptonian in case of an invasion (see Man of Steel + CW’s Supergirl) or suddenly having a mind controlled Superman on their hands (see Justice League series or just look up what Red Krytonite does) so he makes it like his side thing to figure out ways to neutralize or hold back a Kryptonian, Clark totally thinks that Lex is obsessed with finding a way to kill Superman because they had a bad end to their friendship in high school so he’s always suspicious of Lex, Lex hasn’t really ever tried to kill him though because 1. It’s not that deep Clark ok? And 2. He’s a busy busy man with a very important job position and a company to run so does he look like he has time to harbor an obsession over someone who rejected him back in high school??? You’re more of a constant side quest Clark, so stop trying to put him on the JL watchlist ( btw ik about Lena Luthor, haven’t forgotten her but she doesn’t really play a part in this AU so let’s just have her and Kara off to the side doing their own thing ok? Ok)

Lex, Bruce & Oliver all knew each other when they were kids and went to the same school, this is just an extra detail I wanted to happen because Lex and Ollie definitely know Bruce is Batman and absolutely HATE having to deal with Brucie Wayne because “I know you’re just doing this to irritate me Bruce, you just want to see if you can make a vein throb in my forehead but I will valiantly ignore your dumbassery because I know you hate being Brucie just as much as we hate having to put up with Brucie so suck on that you petty bitch” because they bonded in ye olden days, childhood friends so to speak

Anyway so Cadmus tries to get Lex to make an investment in their company, seeing as Cadmus is shadier than Gotham when it rains Lex is basically like ‘no ❤️’ and doesn’t make a deal with them, Cadmus gets mad at not having Lexcorp financially backing them so Lex has an ‘accident’ and they steal his DNA, then they steal Superman’s DNA somehow and *boom* a Superboi is formed

Because I don’t know much about how the Core Four became friends in the first place (Robin Tim Drake, Impulse Bart Allen, Wonder Girl Cassie Sandsmark & Superboy Conner Kent) I’m just gonna go with what happens in the show Young Justice except it’s the Core Four becoming the Core Four when they liberated Conner (who at this point believes himself to be a clone of Superman and has only been given Superboy as a name) from Cadmus, same shit goes down meaning that Clark is just straight up NOT vibing with Conner, Conner just wants a mentor please, and the Bats kinda give Clark a passive aggressive treatment for not taking Superboy under his wing or at least agreeing to teach him how to control his powers, especially Tim because that’s his Bestie so yes

Anyway, YJ saves ppl and is on the news or whatever and Lex finds out about Superboy’s existence that way, so he researches this new super on his free time, finds out that he came from Cadmus and claims to be a clone of Superman, yet doesn’t have the whole power set Superman has??? Wait, didn’t Lex reject Cadmus’ proposal and the got into a mysterious accident??? Long story short Lex goes connecting the dots, hacks into Cadmus’ files, finds out he technically has a son with Superman and decides to take Superboy under his wing (I’ll go more in depth as to why Lex would want to do this in this AU later but the abridged version would be that he wants a kid but doesn’t have the time nor interest in finding a wife??? Also the radiation that made him bald as a kid also affected his reproductive system so while it’s not impossible for him to conceive kids he would have a very hard time actually getting to father a kid)

Him and Conner, who still goes by Superboy at this point in time, meet up and Conner finds out that here is a parent figure that is both available and actively wants to be a part of his life, so he agrees to get to know Lex and the series would focus on them becoming a family, with a special episode when Conner asks Lex for help in choosing a name for himself and it ends up with him agreeing to become Conner Luthor, it would be heartwarming and Mercy would make sure it happens within a day (Mercy is Lex’s bodyguard/PA but they’re also besties and she becomes the Responsible yet Chaotic Aunt as Lex and Conner’s father-son relationship progresses)

Obviously Clark becomes super suspicious of Lex getting close to his ‘clone’ and when Conner decides to go public as Lex’s son he’s like *GASP* and calls up Bruce because we need to get on this Bruce, Lex is a villain and blah blah blah but Bruce would be over Clark’s shit and hit him with that “actually, Lex was also an unwilling genetic donor to Superboy, who actually is not your clone either, and has agreed to take him in, I’ve been on this shit since they first met and the kid is doing just fine so if you keep poking your nose in their business then that’s your problem but you better be ready to pay child support bitch . . . have a good day ❤️”

The series would just focus on Conner getting to have a good parent figure in Lex and go more into their civilian lives rather than focusing on the superhero thing, Conner, Bart, Tim & Cassie have a sleepover at Lex’s house at one point, Lex totally Knows what’s up but it’s all good because these are his baby’s friends and they’re good people who are more than willing to prank Superman for rejecting his kid and giving his baby self worth issues (Mercy supports them)

Anyway, that’s basically the idea for a new Superhero Show

#humor #superfamily #that’s new #focusing on Conner (the OG Superboy)#because they are always excluding him #so now Lex Luthor is a caring father to him #because yes #give this boy some love #conner kent #lex luthor #clark kent #bruce wayne #tim drake #superman #superboy #cassie sandsmark #bart allen #the Core Four is here too #Lex isn’t really a villain #he’s not evil either #finding ways to neutralize Superman is just like a side quest #because yes Superman is a paragon of good and Justice #but mind control exists #so pardon Lex for wanting to be able to protect himself from an out of control Superman #Clark totally thinks that Lex is obsessed with stopping him #because they had a bad friendship ending back in high school #but Lex isn’t aware of this ‘rivalry’ he’s supposed to be a part of #so it’s just Clark being suspicious of Lex and Lex not having a clue about this #or just not giving a shit because he’s a busy businessman trying to run a huge company #just a new idea for a new DC show focusing on the Supers

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fridayfirefly · 3 years

Text

Retirement

Read Retirement on AO3

Masterlist

For Maribat March Day 21 - Domestic Bliss

The first time Marinette and Garfield ever discussed retirement was before they even started dating. For superheroes, retirement was just a fact of life. One day, if you make it long enough, you'll put down the suit and you'll never pick it up again. Maybe someone will take your place. Hopefully, no one will need to. But no matter how strong you are, not even if you're Superman in his prime, the simple fact was that someday you would retire.

"What do you think you'll do after you retire?" Marinette mused to Garfield. Out of all the Titans, Marinette spent the most time around Gar, simply because the two of them spent a lot of time in the living room. Marinette liked the ambient noise that his video games provided when she worked on her projects, and Gar liked to have someone to talk to while he played. Most of Marinette's current focus was on the embroidery in her hands, as she stitched vines running down the sleeves of her shirt, but she still took the time to start a conversation with Gar.

"I dunno..." Gar glanced up from the game he was playing. "What'll you do once you give up being Ladybug."

"That's a tough question. I used to think that I wanted to run a big fashion company, like Agreste Fashion, but now I think I want something a little more low-key. In my ideal future, I own a little boutique where I make custom clothing. There would be a fabric store and a café on the same block as me, and I would never have to leave the neighborhood."

"That sounds nice. I think I might try going to college and see where that takes me. I applied to Jump City University right before Christmas, and they accepted me. If I went, I would start classes in the fall.”

Marinette’s head jerked up as she gave Gar her full, undivided attention. “I’m going to JCU next fall!” she exclaimed excitedly. “We might have classes together. What are you planning on majoring in?”

Gar shrugged, “JCU has a veterinary program that I'm interested in. I'd be taking animal behavior, biology, chemistry, and a whole bunch of other science classes.”

“That’s so cool!”

“It’s nothing much. I didn’t expect them to accept me, anyway.”

Gar seemed oddly subdued about the idea of going to college. He was a naturally enthusiastic person, which made it very out of character for him to be so dismissive. It worried Marinette. “No, you deserve praise for your accomplishment. Jump City University is a very selective school.”

“I’m not a genius. I’m just me.”

“You’re smart, Gar, I know you are. Getting accepted to JCU is just one of the many reasons why you are brilliant.”

“Are you gonna name them all for me?” joked Gar.

His question was rhetorical, just a joke, but Marinette wasn't finished convincing Gar that he deserved all the praise in the world. “For starters, you can finish any video game in less than a day. Even the ones where you need logic and strategy, you fly right through them. Secondly, you’re a genius when it comes to animals. And it’s not just because of your superpower. You taught yourself animal behavior so that you could blend in with the animals you’re imitating. Thirdly, you pretend not to be invested in politics, but I’ve seen how you keep yourself informed about environmental policies and activism. You really care about the planet. Fourthly-“

"Alright, Buginette,” laughed Gar, a slight blush on his cheeks. “You’ve proven your point.”

Marinette set her embroidery down on the coffee table and moved to Gar's couch. "Is this game multiplayer?"

"Yep. Do you want to play a few rounds?"

"Hmm... I think I could spare a few minutes to kick your butt."

"Please. I'm going to squash you like the little bug you are."

"You wish!"

----------

The next time Marinette and Gar discussed retirement was well after they started dating. They got together in their Junior year at JCU after spending two years in relationship limbo, with both too nervous to make the first move. They finally confessed their feelings for each other after Dick and Starfire locked them in a closet together until they admitted that they liked each other. They graduated college as a couple, with Gar planning on attending veterinary school and Marinette planning on starting up her fashion business. That summer they spent a lot of time talking about the future.

"I've been thinking of recruiting someone to take over as Ladybug," remarked Marinette as she cuddled up next to Gar on the couch.

"Really? Who do you have your eye on?" asked Gar.

"Wonder Woman recently took on a new protege, Cassie Sandsmark. The Ladybug Miraculous already has some connections to Wonder Woman and her home of Themyscira. Her mother, Queen Hippolyta, was a wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous for quite some time."

"If you gave up the Miraculous would you still fight crime?"

Marinette shook her head. "I think it might be time to give up crimefighting. It's been ten years since I took up the Ladybug Miraculous to fight Hawkmoth, and six years since Hawkmoth was defeated. I wasn't ready to give up that responsibility then, but I think I'm ready now."

"When would you give up the Miraculous?"

"Soon. I talked to Wonder Woman about it last week and she's enthusiastic about the idea. I would need to spend some time getting to know Cassie, just to make sure she's a good fit, and Tikki would need to vet her as well, but I have a good feeling that she'll pass any tests of character we put her through." Marinette turned to face Gar. "I didn't want to make any concrete decisions before I talked to you. I know that we've always fought crime together, but I'm ready to move on with my life. I'm ready to retire."

Gar nodded. "I understand and I fully support your decision. I've been considering leaving the Titans as well. I know I could continue living in the Tower and attend veterinary school at JCU, but last week I got an acceptance letter from UC Davis for their School of Veterinary Medicine."

Marinette's eyes widened. "Gar, that's amazing! I remember looking into UC Davis when you were applying, and their program is nationally ranked."

Gar grinned. "The best in the country. It's too good to pass up."

"You have to go!" exclaimed Marinette. "This is your dream!"

"I think I'll send in my acceptance tomorrow," decided Gar. "Maybe we can go to Davis this weekend and scout out an apartment."

"And fabric stores," chimed in Marinette.

Gar laughed. "Anything for you, Buginette."

----------

The final time Marinette and Gar discussed retirement was years later. Marinette and Gar had gotten married and had moved back to Jump City. Marinette opened her fashion boutique, which had very quickly exploded in popularity. Gar started working for a non-profit veterinary clinic, which provided free veterinary services to lower-income neighborhoods. They had both achieved their dreams, and yet neither seemed content with their lives.

"Maybe we just need a change of scenery," suggested Marinette, leaning her head against Gar as they both sat on the beach watching the sunset. "I'm so tired of the city."

"Maybe," said Gar. "It would be nice to have a house with a backyard, rather than just an apartment."

Marinette sighed. "I know that I always said that I wanted to be the owner of a successful boutique, but this wasn't really what I had in mind. I'm so busy that I feel like I never get to spend any time with you anymore. Every day my inbox is filled with emails asking me to sell my company or expand to more locations. I'm tired of it. My passion is for making clothes, not running a business."

"I know how you feel. Every day I encounter another neglectful pet owner who brings their animal to the clinic for help but refuses to listen to me when I tell them that they need to change the way they treat their animal. It's exhausting."

"We could both just quit our jobs and move into the woods," joked Marinette.

Gar nodded, but he wasn't joking. "I've actually been thinking about that. There are a lot of remote regions with a real need for veterinary practices to provide medical assistance for the farm animals out there. I would feel a lot more useful taking care of animals that don't have anyone else."

Marinette turned to face Gar. "I wouldn't mind moving. I've been sending all of the offers to buy my boutique straight to my email archive, but I'm sure if I looked through them all I could find someone who would be able to take care of the business aspect of Ladybug Designs. I could retire from the business and design on my own time, when the inspiration strikes, instead of forcing myself to churn out design after design."

"You really wouldn't mind?" asked Gar, a hopeful look on his face.

Marinette shook her head. "I was serious about moving out of the city. There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while, but I've been waiting for the right moment. I think that moment is now. Gar, I'm pregnant."

The deer-in-the-headlights look on Gar's face was comical, to say the least. Marinette giggled, "Well?"

Gar snapped back to reality, transforming into an elephant, trumpeting his joy. He turned back into himself and wrapped his arms around Marinette. "I'm so happy! This is the best news I could have ever heard, Buginette. Now we have to move. I want our kid to have a backyard and a dog and a big driveway where I can teach them how to ride a bike and a pond where they can swim in the summer-"

Marinette cut Gar off with a kiss. "One thing at a time," she giggled.

"I think this will be the best decision we have ever made," declared Gar.

Marinette agreed. "I think that partial retirement will be good for us."

----------

This was bliss. The feeling of grass under Marinette’s bare feet as she walked back to the house from the lake, hand in hand with Gar. The sound of their daughter's laughter as she danced around them, catching fireflies. The taste of homemade apple pie and vanilla ice cream, eaten rebelliously early as Gar proclaimed, "Dessert before dinner!" The sight of the stars up above them, no light pollution to mask the beauty of the heavens. The sound of Gar's voice, whispering, "I love you, Buginette," into Marinette's ear. And as Marinette settled into her husband's arms, she knew for certain that retirement was the best decision she had ever made.

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribat #garfield logan #marinette dupain-cheng #garmari #MaribatMarch2021 #miraculous ladybug fic #my work

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fanficmepage · 3 years

Text

Chapter 20

Masterlist

Pervious

Bruce was barely able to get her down for the night. Raven continuously pressed the flying issue. Even fighting off her own sleepiness just to get an answer from her father. The constant apology text from Clark did not alleviate his stress. The sun shone through his window. Rolling over, a pair of lavender eyes stared at him.

“Sweetie, why are you awake?” He groaned.

“Farm Day!” Raven shook her father as hard as she could (barely moved his arm). “Daddy, it's farm day!”

6:30

Bruce stared at the clock then back down at her, “Princess, you only slept a few hours, go back to sleep.”

“But it's daytime.” She climbed up on the bed, trying to pull him off of it.

He sighed, pushing the sheets off his body. “Metropolis better not turn you into a morning person.”

A knock at the door immediately drained any form of energy Bruce had. Swinging open the door, Clark stood with his usual bright smile.

“Morning Bruce!”

“What did you do to my child?” Bruce glared daggers.

Raven up in front of her father, hugging his legs. “She looks fine?”

“Clark. What. Time. Is. It.”

“Six? Oh, sorry I meant to be here earlier. Were you two waiting for me?”

“Early?” Bruce sighed, walking back into the penthouse. He squinted at the light shining through the window, throwing the curtains shut. “One day in Metropolis and she is already waking up at the crack of dawn.”

“Dawn was half an hour ago, actually… Anyways, have you read the paper?”

“Clark, I woke up less than five minutes ago.” Clark tossed the paper over to the extremely tired man. “You’re on the cover of Entertainment.”

Gotham takes over Metropolis

‘Bruce Wayne talks business in Metropolis with the new Princess of Gotham: Raven Wayne.’

“Why is she writing about Raven?”

“Well, you really didn’t give her much to work with. She had to write something to get people to read. Why not the Wayne heiress?”

Bruce began to read aloud, “Although busy with heading WE, Mr. Wayne still is the ever doting father to adopted daughter, Raven Martha Wayne. Miss Wayne is a bright, outspoken young lady with a love for reading. With a large vocabulary, the future of the Wayne family name is in great hands.”

Bruce stayed silent as he read through the rest of the page. Tossing the paper on the counter, “I should call my legal team, just in case.”

“Lo didn’t say anything bad.”

“No but now Raven has a larger target on her back.” Clark cocked his head to the side as Bruce continued, “the press is vicious when it comes to kids. Other families are even worse. Slander campaigns against children and parents. It’s disgusting. We need to prepare for it, specifically the Kanes.”

“The Kanes?”

“My-sigh- my mother’s family. They hate my father. Always hated him. Tried to weave a story about how my father got my mother killed.” Bruce looked at the haphazardly thrown paper, “They were just mad that my mother left everything to Alfred and I. My mother knew her family well enough to not trust them.”

Clark studied his face, “you never told me about this.”

“Not something I enjoy talking about in the first place.”

“Did you really have no one?” He moved closer to Bruce, hoping to get a glimpse of the real him.

“I had Alfred.”

“Now you have Raven.” The men watched as she brushed through her hair, practically shaking with excitement.

“What time do you want to leave?” Bruce quickly changed the subject.

“Oh-um whenever, I figured we would fly.”

“I'll call for a helicopter.” he pulled out his phone, scrolling through contacts for the right number.

“I meant I could fly.”

“What do you- No.”

“Bruce-”

“No.”

“Bruce.”

“Fuck. No.”

“I fly with Lois all the time, I can handle carrying you two.”

Bruce lifted Raven in his arms, “I don’t care if you carried the President, like hell you are carrying my child.”

One Hour Later

“Ready, Bruce?” The three stood on the roof of the skyscraper, Raven squished between the two. Clark held Bruce by the waist, keeping one hand on her. Bruce linked his arm over Superman's shoulder and the other also on his daughter.

“I hate you with every fiber of my being.”

As soon as their feet touched the ground, Bruce immediately checked over Raven. He ran his thumbs over her face, checking for any signs of something.

“Daddy! I’m fine!” She pushed his hands away, opting to fix herself. After patting down her clothes and hair. Looking up, she spotted a small blue house on the horizon. Her eyes widened and smiled. “Daddy! We’re here!”

She tugged Bruce along by his arm, dragging him along the road to the little house. Clark followed a few steps behind them, enjoying the familiar scenery.

“Welcome to Smallville. The only place where you can leave your car unlocked and it will be just fine,” Clark spoke.

“No place is ever that safe.” Bruce retorted.

“You’ve spent too much time in Gotham.”

They approached the small house, a rusty truck parked beside it. A tree stood tall, a tire swing hanging from a low branch. The farm was surrounded by wheat, a rickety old barn in the distance.

“It looks straight out of a painting.” The three stepped onto the porch. The wood creaked under their weight. The door swung open and a small older woman stepped out of the home. Streaks of grey ran through her light brown hair.

“Clark!” She reached out and pulled him into a big hug. “What a nice surprise!”

“Ma,” Clark pulled away and turned to Bruce, “This is my friend, Bruce Wayne and his daughter Raven. Bruce, this is my mother, Martha Kent.”

“Hi.” Bruce raised his hand in a short wave, briefly making eye contact. Before he could pull away, Martha wrapped Bruce in a hug as well. He stood stone still until she let go. Turning to Raven, the little girl was completely enveloped in a hug.

“You are the sweetest little thing, oh your father is going to fight off all the boys, isn't he?” Raven giggled. “What pretty hair you have too.”

“Daddy said no boyfriends until I’m thirty.”

“My daddy said the same thing, I met my husband at sixteen.”

Raven turned to her father and tugged on his pants, “Daddy, am I going to meet my husband at sixteen too?”

“I hope not.” Bruce patted her head. “I really hope not.”

“Come on in! Pa’s in the kitchen.” Family photos covered the hallway. Generations of Kents living on the farm, blissfully happy. Pain twigged in Bruce’s chest, especially with one with young Clark being held by his parents.

“Oh, hello.” A man’s voice snapped Bruce out of his trance. The man stood up and walked towards him, “You must be Bruce, Clark wrote about you a few times.”

“Bruce, this is my father, Jonathan. Pa, you know Bruce and his daughter Raven.” The two men shake hands, Raven receiving a head pat.

“So what brings you both home?” She placed two coffee mugs as the men sat down.

“Well, Ma. We kinda need the ship.”

“Oh.” The air of the room shifted.

“Hey,” Pa cut in. “Why don’t I show the little one the chickens out back.”

Raven turned to her father with eager eyes, with a nod, she followed Jonathan out the back door, leaving the three in silence.

“Is something happening?” The older woman whispered. She held her mug tightly to her chest.

“No, I mean yes but no. We just need to check some things out.” Clark spoke up. He looked to Bruce to pick up the story but was met with nothing. His eyes trained back down that hallway “... it's Raven. We just want to make sure she isn’t Kryptonian as well… There have been a few incidents, we just want to cover all bases, right? Bruce?”

Clark shook his arm, breaking his trance, “We ready?”

“Yeah…”

“I’ll get Raven then.” The two watched as Bruce left out the back door.

“Maybe I should have just taken it to him,” Clark mumbled under his breath.

Ma turned back to her son with a soft sigh, “Your friend seems nice. A bit strange, but nice.”

“I don’t know much but he lost his parents when he was young, raised by his butler. He doesn’t talk about it. He had some family but they were… It's not my story to tell.”

“Oh.” She looked back down at the table, a weird glimmer in her eyes. The gears in her head turned. “Well, we haven’t touched it since you went to Metropolis. You boys go do your thing while I fix up some lunch.”

Clark was shooed out the door, joining the rest of the men outside. Pa held up Raven, looking through the chicken wire and the hens below. He moved next to Bruce, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you…”

“I’m fine. Is the ship ready?” Any form of emotion that he had felt has disappeared as if it never existed.

“It’s in the barn.”

The barn was worn and moist, hay scattered around the ground. Raven gripped her father tighter as the light grew dimmer. Clark opened up a trap door and jumped down soon followed by the pair. Clark turned on a lantern, leading the way through the basement.

They approached a large object covered in a dusty tarp. Pulling back the cloth, a pristine blue ship was slowly revealed.

“This is it.” Clark turned back to Bruce. “What do you think?”

“It's small… What do we do?” The ship opened up, giving off a white glow. He put her down on the floor, watching as she slowly walked to the ship. “Clark?”

“She’ll be fine, just going to test her.”

“Test her how?” A small metallic arms grew from the ship and inches it way towards her. Like a viper, it snapped forward and pricked her arm.

“Oww!” She yelped, sticking her tongue out at the machine before retreating to her father.

“Clark.” Bruce checked her arm then shot a glare at the super.

Scanning lifeform

“Justa DNA scan, don’t worry.”

Scan complete: Results inconclusive. Krypton does not have a record of this species.

A sigh of defeat echoed in the room, the ship slowly shutting back down.

“Welp, that was a bust.” Clark recovered the ship with the tarp. “We at least know two things, she isn't an alien or human.”

Bruce stayed silent, rubbing her sore arm.

If she isn’t human, what is she?

“Boys! Come in for supper!” Ma called from the porch then reentering the house. Bruce had been roped into farm work, specifically fixing up the broken down truck.

“I’ll be done in a few more minutes.” He called back, leaning over the hood. “That should do it for now, could use an oil change though.”

Raven sat on the old tire swing, giggling as Pa pushed her back and forth. Soon, a only black car pulled into the dirt driveway. A middle aged man stepped out, clutching onto his briefcase.

He wobbled over to Bruce, with an outstretched hand. “Hello, are you the owner?”

“No. He’s over the-”

“Well, please deliver this to them. Good day, sir.” The man left as fast as he arrived as if the farm was on fire. Looking down at the page, large red letters spelling CONFIDENTIAL. Pulling out his phone, he shot a message to Alfred:

Find out what is happening with the Kents.- Bruce

Minutes passed before his phone buzzed.

Behind on payments.- Alfred

Clear it, any means necessary.-Bruce

Bruce walked over to Pa, handing the envelope, “some guy showed up, asked me to pass this on.”

His face dropped, taking the envelope. “Thank you…”

“You said there was some oil in the barn?” Bruce picked up Raven, putting her on his shoulders and walked towards the barn.

“Daddy! I was having fun.” She pouted, leaning down to see him. “I wanna go back!”

“We will, I just need a few things.” His phone buzzed again:

Congratulations, you now own another bank. All debts have been cleared. - Alfred

Bruce shoved his phone back in his pocket, giving Kents the space they needed.

“Ma, why didn’t you tell me?” Clark read over the paperwork again. “How long have you been losing the farm?”

“Few months, your mother took up a few more shifts at the diner to cover the cost but…” Pa chimed in.

“I could have helped.”

“Oh son,” Ma placed her hands on his shoulders, “you shouldn’t tie yourself back to this old place, it's too big for just your father and I now.”

“Ma-” The phone rang through the house. Ma rushed over, answering it. The men sat in silence, processing what just happened.

“Oh my-” Ma stumbled back into the room, a bright smile plastered on her face. “It’s gone!”

“What?”

“The debt, it’s gone! I need to sit down.” Ma and Pa held onto one another, smiling like school children. “How can this even happen?”

Clark stood back as his parents celebrated.

How does that even happen?

Wait.

Oh.

Clark walked out the house, making his way towards the truck. Raven sat on her father’s legs while his upper half was covered by the truck. Laying down, he slid under the truck besides Bruce, the oil pan between them.

“How’s it going?” Clark questioned.

“Just draining the truck. Call me if anything happens.”

“Pa is stubborn but I’ll let him know… So the bank pulled back on foreclosure.”

Bruce stayed quiet, watching the oil pour.

“How is it that a small farm is able to have all their debts wiped by the bank within twenty minutes of the foreclosure notice?”

“...”

“You know, you’re a lot nicer than you let on.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm. Bruce?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

The two slid back out from the truck, grease covering Bruce’s hands. His clothes were covered in dirt.

“Bruce!” Ma called from the porch, “You didn’t have to do all that! All your nice clothes. Hold on, Clark might have left some shirts!”

“Hope you like plaid.”

Ma placed plates in front of the two men and a smaller one in front of Raven.

“Hopefully it didn’t get too cold.” She watched as Raven ate, a happy smile on her face. “I want one.”

“A daughter?” Clark cocked his eyebrow in confusion.

“A grandchild. Your father and I aren’t getting any younger, you know.” Bruce smirked, watching Clark shift in his seat. “You either call Lana back or you go and get that Lane woman you constantly talk about.”

“Oh, you and Lois?”

“Bruce, not you too!”

“Don’t worry Ms. Kent, I put in a few good words for him.” Bruce felt a light stab in the side.

“Thank you, Bruce.”

‘I hate you.’ Clark mouthed towards Bruce, never wiping the smirk off his face.

‘You’re welcome.’

Landing back on the roof, Raven softly snored, drooling on her father’s clothes. “She wakes up at six again, I’m killing you.”

“Sure you are.” Clark turned away from the two. “Hey, did you actually put in a good word for me? With Lois?”

“Maybe. Didn’t really need to, she already seems to like you.” With that, Clark took off into the night.

Bruce placed her in her bed, tucking her in for the night. After softly closing the door, he picked up the recorder and began:

Log: 4

Subsection: Raven

As I suspected, Raven is not Kryptonian. Although it did confirm Raven is also not an alien, at least any known species so far.

This development doesn’t elevate any of my concerns. How is she human enough to be recognized by medical professionals yet not enough for Clark’s tech to recognize her as one. Further testing needs to be done but…

She is just a child. Raven shouldn’t have to go through this. She is only four years old.

Why do I feel that there is worse to come?

End Log

Thank you so much for reading ❤

#batman #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne #raven roth #dc au #family au #batfam au #single parent au #batfleck #baby au #superman #clark kent

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oddsnendsfanfics · 3 years

Text

Unraveling Over the Holidays

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: Fluff. Implied Pandemic world we live in

Rating: G

Length: Drabble

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Inspired by the need to write more Henry and Nell, along with Henry’s latest IG post and here we have it.

Henry Cavill Master List

“Almost have it, Wild Boy.” Henry announced looking into the abyss of the computer they were attempting to build. This was their second this year, a true feat. Rarely did Henry and Ivan get the time to break down and rebuild their own systems. It was a welcome hobby, keeping them busy when there wasn't much else to do these days.

They had been working away on the project since breakfast. Frustrated mumbling and grunting seemed to be the only sounds coming from the other room. Nell listened, checking in on them from time to time, waiting for them to finish. Today was the day they were going to finally trim their Christmas tree. After days of waiting, it would finally be a sight to behold. Or as much a sight to behold as they could manage. All in all Nell felt that she decorated a pretty damn fine looking tree.

It was shortly after lunch, when Nell began to get annoyed. When she'd brought in a plate of sandwiches and asked her husband and son if they would be done soon, both had told her that they needed ten more minutes. Three hours and one boasting Instagram photo later...

“Dad, I think I have this backwards.” Ivan furrowed his brow staring at the piece that he was attempting to put in.

“Let me look.” Henry moved to take a closer inspection.

Not wanting the break anything, risking a costly repair. Ivan was learning fast and enjoyed working with his hands. More than that, he really enjoyed the uninterrupted time with his dad. “Not backwards, but the next slot over.” Instructing his son how to put the piece in properly.

Neither of them seeming to notice or care that Nell had drug out their boxes of Christmas decorations. Outside, she and Henry had strung lights in a few bushes and around their garden early in the month. Wanting to get it done in case they got an unexpected cold or worse. Inside Nell had put up her favourite battery operated candles, the old fashioned looking ones that stood in the windows. Every window in the farm house had a candle display. The kitchen had lights and a few decorations, the sitting room, the office, and even the bathrooms were ready.

All they needed was to get the tree decorated. Presents under a naked tree was plain wrong.

“Henry, Ivan.” Nell tapped her foot on the floor, her arms folded across her chest. Huffing at the two of them. She should have known better than to let them tear apart that damn computer this morning.

“I think she saw.” Ivan wasn't doing a very good job at whispering, his mother could hear him on the other side of the room. Nell rolled her eyes. Of course she had saw the photo, over 3,000 people had saw that photo and it had only taken five minutes.

“What is it, darling?” Henry leaned back in his chair, glancing over his shoulder at his wife. Smiling sweetly, his usual trick when he wanted to attempt getting out of something.

“Tree.” She gestured to the tree behind her.

“What about it? Is it too dry? Ivan, didn't I ask you to water that this morning?” Shaking his head, Henry glanced at his son.

“I did, dad.” Ivan huffed, holding the light at the perfect angle to see inside the box.

“Guys, can we please decorate this tree? It's been here since Sunday.”

“We'll get to it.”

“When? It's already Friday. Henry, we have had this in here for nearly a week. A naked, boring, lackluster tree.” Lecturing, Nell rubbed her temples, “Christmas is in a week! A week! This is the latest we have ever left the tree.”

Setting down his manual, Henry pushed his chair away from the desk, standing to observe the tree. He hadn't thought it was that big of a deal, they had gone last week and picked out the tree, Henry wasn't sure that this would be the final spot for the Christmas icon. Something Nell would assume was an excuse.

He should have taken the photo from the other side, oops. Had he not mentioned the bare tree to the world, his wife likely wouldn't have been making such a deal about it. Until now, Nell had been avoiding it as much as him and Ivan.

“Do you want to do it today?” Wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed the back of her head. “The wild boy and I are more than happy to let you take over.”

If she wanted to decorate the tree, by herself, it would have been done hours ago.

“Nice try, but this was to be a family activity.” Nell furrowed her brow, huffing. “Why can't you stop fiddling with that damn box for twenty minutes?”

“I love you, Mrs. Cavill.” He knew exactly how to win this battle.

“Not working.”

“Worth a try,” Henry shrugged giving her a kiss on the cheek. Squeezing his arms tighter around his wife, he groaned. Caving to her whim. “I'm going to make us some cocoa, then we can get this tree decorated. Wild boy, help your mum get the decorations out, please.”

“Uh, no.” Shaking her head, Nell escaped his clutches. “I am going to make the cocoa,” gently tapping the tip of Henry's nose she grinned, “You and Ivan can untangle the lights. I have been asking you all week, get to work.”

Laying on the floor by the tree, Kal boofed and yawned. He had heard her asking multiple times over the week, but what could be do about it? Stretching, he stood cautiously to keep his wagging tail from smashing the tree. Nell really hated picking pieces of Christmas tree from his fur. Following her to the kitchen, he hurried when her steps approached the treat cupboard.

“You'd help me, wouldn't you bear?” Spotting her shadow, Nell smiled, tossing him a biscuit. “Honestly, those two are more and more difficult every year. I feel like I'm raising two children sometimes.”

Oh lovely, here she was, in the middle of the kitchen talking to the dog. Whatever, at least Kal would listen to her gripe. Pulling down a mug and two tumbler glasses, Nell set the kettle to boil and then picked up the bottle of Johnnie Walker that had appeared on the counter a few days ago. Likely a gift from someone.

One candy cane hot cocoa and two whiskey and rosemary sours, at the ready. In the other room, Nell could hear Ivan and Henry singing along to I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas. Loudly Ivan belted out the line about the hippo being a vegetarian, Henry swaying back and forth as he laughed and unraveled the lights. To Nell's credit, when she had put away their Christmas decorations the previous year, she had done a much nicer job than Henry.

“Looking good, gentlemen.” Complimenting their work, Nell smiled handing Ivan the cocoa. “Yours is on the tray,” she kissed Henry's cheek. “I decided to make use of the Johnnie Walker.” She winked.

Taking his drink, Henry smiled. “It's your bottle,”

“Mine? Did you buy it?” Nell sat on the floor beside Ivan, working at picking out more decorations.

“No, it came the other day. Some guy dropped it off, did you not read the card?” Henry laughed, joining his family on the floor. Nell shook her head. “Hold on,” He stood back up, groaning a little.

“Mum,” Ivan spoke pulling out another bundle of lights, “when the tree is done, can I watch a movie?”

“You don't want to help dad finish with the computer?” Sorting the other items in the box, Nell sat back on her heels reaching for her drink.

“I guess, but I think I'd like to watch a movie with you. If you have time.”

“For you, wild boy, I have all the time in the world.” Nell leaned over giving him a kiss on the head. Wrinkling his nose, Ivan brushed his hand over his dark curls, resetting them the way he liked them. “Which movie did you want to watch?”

“I don't know, we can find one.” Ivan worked away at the strand of lights, getting them ready to go on the tree, when Henry came back in. His mother wasn't tall enough to read the top, which meant his dad would have to start the lights.

Decorating the tree with his parents, the three of them, felt a little odd. For as long as Ivan could remember there was always a huge production to decorating their tree. This year was quiet, like most things throughout the year. They would be video calling family over Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning, instead of having them there in person. They were supposed to spend Christmas with the Stewart family this year, as sad as Ivan was to miss his trip he understood.

“Here you are,” Henry waved the small card around, crossing the floor to hand it to Nell.

One the outside was a fancy script, containing her name in gold lettering. Opening the small card, the kind one gets with a delivery of flowers, she admired the generic looking winter scene.

“To Nelly & Superman, Merry Xmas. May 2021 be better than whatever dumpster fire this is,” she read out loud, chuckling at the sentiment. “Love always, JPS. It's from Jordan.”

“How lovely, didn't he send one last year as well?”

“He did, but he sent that really nice Riesling.” Nell confirmed. Since Jordan hadn't been able to make it for the wedding, he'd sent the gift instead. “Along with the Ardbeg, for our wedding present.”

Henry nodded, he remembered drinking both vividly. Although he didn't get much of the Ardbeg, because Nell had deemed it off limits to anybody who wasn't her. Past and present gifts sorted and settled, Henry stood up with the first string of lights in hand. “I think it's time we get these on, what about you?”

“About time.” Sticking out her tongue, Nell pulled out the tinsel and a box of ornaments. “Gosh, Cavill, you have been taking forever.”

“Can't rush perfection, my darling.” Henry smirked, attaching the first string of soft white lights to the stout tree in the corner.

“Is that why we took so long?” Ivan teased helping his mother carefully lift ornaments from boxes.

“Of course.” Henry nodded, excusing his procrastination. “You know, I do love this tree.”

“It is a lovely tree. It's the perfect size.” Nell agreed with her husband. “I'm glad that we didn't go with a monstrous tree this year.”

Henry and Ivan had a habit of going for the biggest tree in the lot. This year, Nell had put her foot down, demanding that they pick something reasonable.

“I thought you liked a big, thick one.” Snorting, Henry paused to watch Nell's reaction.

“You, stop.” She wagged her finger at him. “Wild boy, can you go over to that blue storage bin and get the crystal star, please?”

The tree topper had been a gift from Henry's parents, the first year she and Henry had “unofficially” lived together. Nell had used it every year since, upon Henry's insistence that she kept it. Their first Christmas married, last year, his mother had wanted to gift them a new one. Politely Nell had declined, saying that she loved the one they had. Although, she was more than happy to accept the matching ornament set that went with it, as a late Wedding present.

“I love this star,” Taking the carefully wrapped box from Ivan; Nell placed it safely out of the way of Kal and Cavills.

“Lights are on.” Henry happily announced, clapping his hands together. “What's next?”

“Tinsel and bows.” Ivan sprung up with a card of tinsel, waving it wildly at his father. “Can I help?”

“What if I put on the tinsel, while you tie on the bows?”

“Deal.” Ivan nodded grabbing the gold and silver bows that Nell had made. They would soon be in need of some new bows. “Mum, momma, mum.” he bounced, “Want to help?”

“Sure, you take the gold and I will take the silver?” Standing to join Ivan and Henry at the tree. Nell took the card of silver bows, carefully tying them on to the boughs of the tree.

Over the next half hour or so, their tree began to come to life. The soft colours adorning the vibrant green really stood out in the otherwise neutral room. Laughing and teasing one another, Henry grabbed Ivan around the waist, spinning him – a safe distance from the tree – while Kal danced around them barking excitedly. Nell watched them with joyful delight, after the year they had endured it was nice to see her husband and son still keeping their happiness.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fluff

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noladyme · 4 years

Text

xo - Red (A Clark Kent/Superman oneshot)

Just a really funny; warm; kind; built like an Olympic athlete, with perfect lips friend? Tag-list: @wolf-lover-bookdragon @wonderlandfandomkingdom

TW: Fluff. So much fluff. Explosions.

Fifth date. Things were supposed to happen, right? I mean, at least a kiss; other than a peck on the cheek. But he was a friggin’ gentleman; which I couldn’t help but be a little annoyed about; as it made it very difficult to get to the fun part of our relationship. Not that we didn’t have fun, mind you. Clark had an uncanny way of turning my frown upside down.

Ever since I’d run in to him – literally – at that coffeeshop a few months ago. I had left home early, so I wouldn’t be late for my first day at my new job, at the elementary school. I’d been so nervous about it; I hadn’t been able to fall asleep until 3 am; and was now battling exhaustion, nerves, and the fact that my new red shoes were really uncomfortable – all at the same time. I’d ordered a large black coffee; extra strong; and was on my way out the door – the sun in my eyes – when I tripped on the steps; my drink splashing out of the cup.

Suddenly; two strong hands were grabbing my shoulders; and pulling me up to stand. “Are you ok?”, a warm voice said. I looked up, and found two friendly blue eyes looking me over. “Yes, thank you”, I smiled; before noticing the large brown stain on the man’s white shirt. “Oh, crap. I am so sorry!”. He looked down himself; and smiled. “It’s fine. White isn’t my color anyway”. I laughed. “Still, I’m so sorry. Didn’t I burn you?”. The coffee had been scolding; I knew. He smirked. “I’m thick skinned”, he insisted.

He was still holding on to me; and I felt a warmth spreading in my stomach; making me short of breath. “Miss?”. His eyes suddenly looked worried. “Are you sure you’re ok?”. I smiled. “Yes, absolutely. It’s just been… a morning”. He chuckled. “Can I buy you a new cup of coffee?” I simultaneously nodded and shook my head. “Yes… no… I mean, I should buy you one; as an apology”.

He removed his hands from my shoulders; leaving me to stand on my own. “No need for an apology”, he smiled. “But I’ll take the coffee”.

We’d spent 10 minutes sipping at our hot drinks – for which he’d insisted to pay – and talking about what we did for work, and what our favorite movies were; having noticed an advertisement for some superhero movie on a passing bus. Apparently Clark wasn’t a fan of superheroes; but found it hilarious that I loved The Wizard of Oz – being from Kansas himself. Then; Clark had asked for my number, and I’d given it to him. He shook my hand, and we’d said goodbye.

The next afternoon; he’d called me, and we’d gone to see a movie – one about aliens instead of superheroes. He’d still been frowning all the way through it. “It was just really… unrealistic”, he said afterwards over a beer at a local bar near my apartment. He walked me home, declining my offer to come up for coffee; and had given me a short hug, before saying goodbye.

The next time has been a trip to an apple picking farm. “You can take the boy out of Kansas…”, I’d chuckled, as he’d carried a bushel of Granny Smith’s back to his car. “I just really like pie”, he’d smiled. He’d driven me home; and on the way there, told me about his moms pies; and how it was his favorite thing in the world – next to sweet potato fries. When he dropped me off; he leaned in, and kissed my cheek. “Goodnight”, he’d whispered; and I’d bit my lip – and hoped for more. More didn’t happen.

Then there was the quick cup of coffee on both our lunchbreaks; where I’d told him about how I’d sprained my ankle on roller-skates – 3 times in the same amount of years. He’d snorted a laugh. “Well you are kind of clumsy”, he’d said, and removed a strand of hair from my face; putting it behind my ear – before running off for a sudden work emergency.

And lastly; the roller-skating rink. Because I insisted. And he said he couldn’t say no to me. That night, he’d held my hand as we went about the floor; and grabbed my waist several times, as I was about to fall. “Careful, slick”, he’d said. “Oh, is that my nickname now?”, I��d chuckled. “No. I think I’ll call you Red. From those godawful shoes you were wearing when I met you”. It was another kiss on the cheek; and a hug that lingered, and made my knees weak. And then just… goodnight.

So yes. I was just about desperate to kiss the man. He was gorgeous; which at times had made me feel insufficient and a bit self-conscious – but then there was the way he looked at me. His eyes would light up as I talked; as if I was the most fascinating person he’d ever met. Even when our conversation was about cereal, or how one of the kids at my school had put bead up his nose. It was like his eyes drew me in; and then – as my breath would hitch, and I’d part my lips – he’d pull back as if nothing had happened.

I couldn’t help but ask myself; does he just want to be my friend? My really funny; warm; kind; built like an Olympic athlete, with perfect lips friend? I’d decided that I needed clarity on where we were going with our relationship – even if that thought did make me feel like I was living in a sad rom-com, where everyone was always talking about their feelings.

Tonight, it was dinner. Nothing fancy, just a steakhouse I’d suggested. If Clark turned out to just be in it for the apple picking and coffee; then at least I could drown my sorrows in a medium rare steak, with enough bearnaise-sauce to drown a small elephant.

—

Putting on my favorite jeans, black pumps, and a snug top; I waited for the call to let me know Clark was by the door on the street. He’d never been inside my apartment; and didn’t seem very interested in it either. This isn’t real, I told myself to guard my feelings against the inevitable rejection I’d have to face that evening. We’ll eat, laugh; and he’ll walk me home – and then tell me that he’s got a wife and three kids in Smallville, waiting for him to come home for game-night.

A text message made my phone light up. Hey Red. I’m late. So sorry. Be there as soon as possible. – C

Great. That gave me even more time to just hang out… and be anxious.

No worries, Kansas. See you. xo – R Send… Crap, why did I write xo? What am I; a teenager?

I sat down on my couch. Deciding I needed to pass the time doing something other than stare at the wall; I turned on the television. Landing on the news; I dropped the remote.

In Stockholm, Sweden, the building of a new sky-scraper in an old neighborhood; had made a nearby building begin to crack in the foundation. The old residential was quickly giving in; and families were being evacuated from their homes. There were firetrucks spraying water at the structure, to avoid flames from any electrical fires.

Though it was a terrible situation for those families; I was confused as to why one building falling apart half way around the world, was a breaking news story here. That was until I saw a figure at the bottom of the screen; seemingly supporting the weight of the building on his shoulders. Oh, right! That guy! The Superdude…, I chuckled to myself; and went to see if Clark had texted me back yet.

Nothing. It was probably the xo-thing. He didn’t know how to reply to that.

The news story ended when cameras filmed Superman handing a shaking and wet puppy to a little girl; who kissed his cheek in thanks. I always found it kind of neat, that the flying caped man managed to know where every camera was; so that anyone watching would find it difficult to make out his features. From what I could see; he was sort of cute. If Clark doesn’t work out; I could always throw myself of a building; and have that guy catch me. It must be lonely in that fortress of solitude; maybe he’d like some company.

A text. Outside in 5. Can’t wait to see you. xo – C

xo. He’d written xo. Right. Big girl pants on, and go talk to him.

—

Outside the door of my building stood Clark; a smile the size of the sun plastered across his face. My heart jumped. He opened his arms; and took me in for a hug.

“Hi, Red”, he breathed. “I’m so sorry I’m late. It was a work emergency”. “It’s fine”, I said and looked up at him; and opened my mouth to say something more – until I noticed something strange.

“Clark?”, I said. He was still holding on to me. “Yeah?”. “This is going to sound weird, but… why do you smell like wet dog?”.

He pulled back. “Yeah… I was doing a story at an animal shelter”, he said. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Let’s go!”, he said, and took my hand.

It was a beautiful night; so we decided to skip the cab, and walk the few miles to the restaurant. We walked down the street, hand in hand. It wasn’t the first time we’d held hands; but then it was because he was trying to keep me from falling. This was different. It wasn’t strange; but warm… familiar. I swallowed hard. “I want to talk to you about something, Kansas”, I said. He looked down. “You don’t want to do that at the restaurant?”, he said with a strained voice. “No, I think I need to do it now”, I answered. He nodded. “Ok. Do you want to sit down?”, he asked; and gestured at a bench on a playground we were passing.

Once seated; I let go of Clarks hand. “What’s up, Red?”, he asked earnestly. “You seem… tense”. He laughed nervously. I smiled. “I like you, Clark. A lot”, I said. “I like you too. A lot”, he smiled. I matched his nervous laughter. “It’s just… lately, I’ve been thinking. About us… and what we are”. He looked down. “Yeah, I figured we’d get to this at some point”. I nodded. “We have fun”, I said. “Like friends. But I don’t know if we both feel like this is more than that. Friendship, I mean”. He sighed. “Right. No, I get it”, he said. “You’re new in the city, and shouldn’t be settling down with anyone serious”.

I looked at him confusedly. “I’m not sure I follow”, I smiled. He took my hand. “You’re an amazing woman, Red”, he said “And I’ve enjoyed spending time with you. But maybe you’re right, and this is a good time to call it quits. If that’s what you want”. My heart fell into my stomach. “Is that what you want?”, I asked timidly. “I want you to be happy”, he said, smiling sadly. “With or without me in your life. I’d just hoped I’d have a few more dates before you came to your senses about me”.

I frowned. “Clark… you need to be clear with me here”, I said. “Are you breaking it off with me?”. He looked at me with a frown on his face. “I thought you were breaking up with me…”, he said. “You suggested that restaurant; and I thought you wanted to be in public when you did it”. I laughed. “No. I just… really like steak”, I smiled.

He exhaled with relief. “Good. Because I was lying. I really don’t want you to be happy without me…”, he said. “I mean… crap… I want you to be happy; I’d just really like to be a part of it. If you’ll have me”. I bit my lip and nodded. “I’d like that”, I said. “I thought you saw me as a friend because… you haven’t…”. I couldn’t finish the sentence. He took my hand, and tried to meet my gaze. “What? Tell me”, he said. I took a deep breath. “You haven’t kissed me”, I said; meeting his eyes for a second; before looking down in embarrassment.

He put his hand under my chin, and raised it to finally meet my eyes for real. “Red, I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment you spilled scorching hot coffee on my least favorite shirt”, he smiled. “I was just waiting for the right time, and…”. He exhaled and took my other hand; playing with my fingers.

“My life is… complicated. The work I do; sometimes it’s dangerous”, he said. I raised an eyebrow at him. “You write fluff pieces for The Daily Planet”, I chuckled. “That too…”, he muttered and looked down.

I smiled; wanting to ease the tension. “You know, I was watching a news story while I was waiting for you”, I said. He looked up at me with questioning eyes. “Yeah?”. I chuckled. “It was about that Superman guy. He was helping some people; in Sweden I think”, I said. “I was telling myself; that if you didn’t want to see me anymore; I could always just… throw myself of a building, and he’d rescue me. Then I could hook up with him”. He laughed nervously. “What? Like a rebound?”. “More like a… third choice. If you didn’t work out”. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Only third?”, he said. I scoffed. “Have you seen Aquaman? I mean, come on!”, I grinned.

His lips tightened, and he stifled a laughter. “So… if Superman is third… and… Aquaman…”, he raised an eyebrow at me, “… is second. What does that make me?”. I sighed. “The guy I’ve been waiting months to kiss”.

He looked deep into my eyes; and my breath hitched. He put his hand on my cheek; and he leaned in close to me, stroking my temple with his thumb I brushed my nose against his; and closed my eyes, letting my lips part.

Suddenly; he pulled back. “Clark?”, I asked. His eyes were scanning the area; before they met mine again – alarmed. “Red, go home.” “What’s wrong?”, I said. “Did I say something?”.

He stood up and began backing away; his eyes again searching his surroundings. “Listen, go straight home. Don’t stop for anything. I’ll… I’ll call you when I can”. He ran around a corner, and was gone. I heard a strange woosh, and a stray cat ran from the alley he’d gone in to.

I felt suddenly cold. This was the weirdest date I’d ever had; and it hadn’t even really started. Then there was the fact that the guy I was falling head over heels for, finally said he care about me too – and then just… left. That’s it, I laughed to myself. I’m finding a really high building to jump off.

I began walking home. Slowly. I didn’t want Clark to have the pleasure of getting me to do what he wanted me to. Jerk. Not a jerk. Crap; I really like him. More than like. This is real.

I heard a crash, and then a screech; like metal being torn apart. I felt a warm gust of wind, forceful enough to make me stumble. I looked up. Was that seriously a bus flying through the air?

Another crash; this one even closer. I fell to the ground; and was scrambling to get up, when I saw a minivan sliding on its roof towards me. I got on my feet, and bean running out of the way; when something red and blue slammed into the minivan; making it alter its course. Was that?…

I ran towards my block. Red, go home. I’m going; but where are you Clark? Are you ok?

I kept running; fishing my phone out of my pocket, and dialing Clarks number. It kept ringing, but went to voicemail. Hey. This is Clark Kent. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you… beep. Come on, Clark. I need to know you’re ok!

I redialed. Suddenly I heard a phone ringing near me. I looked into a bush; and saw… Clarks jacket? His phone was ringing in his pocket. 2 missed calls from Red – heart emoji. Damn it, Kansas. If I wasn’t so pissed at you; I might think this was really sweet. Where are you?

Screeching… a car landed on the ground 10 feet from me; the force of it throwing me to the ground again. I got up slowly; rattled from the shock.

I began running again; getting closer to my block.

Suddenly; a tank truck was blocking my path; crashing into a bus-shed. My heart was in my throat, and my chest hurt from having run so fast. I tried turning around, but a bus had crashed into an RV, blocking my path in both directions. I was trapped.

I looked up. The sky was covered in smoke from the many burning vehicles around me. The sound of a large crash made me look towards the truck. Something made the vehicle fall onto its side, and slide towards me with such speed that the shock of it made me fall.

I looked back – there was nowhere to run. In three seconds, I would be smashed between the truck and the bus.

Three… Oh God…

Two… Clark, where are you?

One.

A gush of wind; and I flew in to the air. No… I didn’t fly; I was lifted. My feet were dangling in the air; and one of my shoes fell of, landing on the ground hundreds of feet below me. Someone was holding on to me; his strong arms around my waist; and my chest pressed to his – which was adorned with a red S on a yellow background. What?

I let out a terrified whimper. “It’s ok. I’ve got you”, a warm voice said. I looked up into my saviors face. “Clark?”, I gasped. “Hi”, he said with a crooked smile. I opened my mouth to say something. “Don’t speak…”, he said. “The air is kind of thin up here”.

I looked down; and realizing how far up in the air we were, I panicked. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let out a weak squeal. “It’s ok, Red”, he chuckled. “I won’t let you fall”.

He set me down on the top of a building a few miles from the explosions. Once on stable ground, he held on to me for a second; making sure my legs would carry me. I stepped backwards, holding my hand up in front of me. “Y-you…”, I stuttered. He looked at me apologetically. “I know. I should have told you. It’s just… complicated”. He tried to smile.

I stumbled; and fell to my bottom. He took a tentative step forward. “I know. I get it. You’re scared”, he said. I shook my head. “No… it’s… you!”, I said.

He reached his hand out to me. “Please, let me help you up”. I gave him my hand; and he gently raised me to my feet. “Are you ok?”, he smiled. I simultaneously shook my head and nodded. “Yes?”. It was almost a question. He sniggered.

Suddenly I began laughing – the ridiculousness of the situation too comical. “I was supposed to fall off a building; not land on it”, I chuckled. He began laughing with me. “Yeah, I must have gotten those two mixed up”, he said. “It’s like I’ve said; I can’t say no to you”.

I sighed, and gently laid a hand on the S on his chest. “So… what now?”, I asked. He smiled. “I really want to continue what we started on that bench”. I chuckled and bit my lip. “Ok”.

He slid his arms around me – his tall and broad frame almost enveloping me – and I melted into his arms. His face came close to mine; and the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes; where his striking blue ones, boring deep into me.

He tensed up; and when I opened my eyes again, he was frowning, and turning his head, as if listening.

“I’m so sorry, Red; but I have to finish this”, he said. Another gush of wind; and he was gone. “Seriously?!”, I yelled after him.

—

I made my way down the skyscraper Clark had left me on; where I was met by the sirens of police cars, and people pointing at the sky. I was out of danger – I knew – but no less rattled. I was wearing a pump on one foot, and limping barefoot on the other; until I simply gave up; and took off the shoe – throwing it in a trashcan.

I walked all the way home; confused and dizzy. On my block, people were standing in the streets, murmuring to each other; and looking at the fires in the distance. It was as if there was line drawn through the city. On one side; havoc, and crashed cars – on the other, where I was… nothing. It was as if nothing had been touched.

One of my neighbors tried to stop me in the doorway; noticing the shell-shocked look on my face, and my bare feet. “Were you in that? Are you ok”, he asked. I shook my head. “I’m fine. It’s nothing”, I smiled.

I stumbled into my apartment; threw my jacket on the floor, and grabbed a beer from the fridge – plopping down on the couch.

Well… that was something…

Without anything else to do, I took a large swig of my beer; and turned on the television.

“… explosions in downtown Metropolis this evening; as terrorists connected to the incarcerated Lex Luthor, placed explosives on multiple vehicles, throughout the city…”

Footage of explosions, and scenes of police cars and firetrucks racing down the streets.

“… no casualties, due to the quick intervention of the group calling themselves The Justice League…”

A man who looked like Robocop, pointed at the camera, and the screen blurred. There was a flash of red; and just after it, footage of a group of men captured by a shiny lasso, held by a woman dressed like a Greek goddess. A burning building was drowned in water; and a smirking longhaired man – still hot… – was yelling booyah’s at it.

“… headed by the Batman; and Metropolis’ own Superman…”

I saw the Gotham Knight shaking hands with…

It was Clark. It was always him.

There was a knock at my door. When I opened it Clark stood outside. Not red and blue Superman – just my Clark; dressed in jeans; a plaid flannel; and wearing his glasses.

“Hi”, he said. “Hi”, I answered. “I brought you something”. He pulled out my black pump; the one I had dropped from the air. I chuckled. “Great, now I just need the other one”. He pulled out the other one as well. “It might smell a little. It was laying in a trashcan”. I took the shoes from his hands, and half smiled at him. “I have something of yours as well”, I said, and gave him back his phone, from my jacket on the floor. “Thanks”, he said. “The suit doesn’t really have pockets”.

He clenched his jaw. “Can I come in?”, he asked. I stepped aside, and he walked into my combined kitchen/living room. “You have a nice place”, he smiled. “Thanks”, I said quietly; as I closed the door behind him. His large frame seemed to fill the entire space. “Do you want a beer?”, I asked. He looked at me warmly. “Yeah, sure”. I handed him a cold one. “You can sit down”, I said. “Unless… you pulled a muscle flying me through the sky”.

He chuckled at me, and sat down on my couch. “No, I’m fine”, he smiled. I raised a brow; and sat down on the couch with him – leaving some space between us. “Right; you can lift buildings and stuff like that”, I muttered.

He exhaled, and took a swig of his beer. “Yeah… about that”, he began. “I was going to tell you”. “Why?”, I muttered. “It seems like something pretty big. I get why you’d want to keep it private. Have a… secret identity”.

He frowned. “I wanted to tell you, because I care about you. And I want you to be a part of my life… all of it”. I met his eyes. “Really”. I bit my lip. “You… care”, I said. He reached for my hand; and I let him take it. Our fingers linked into each other. “You’re funny; smart; passionate”, he said. “And you’re beautiful”.

I scrunched up my face in embarrassment. “Ok, now I’m uncomfortable”. “Why?, he said, and stroked my cheek; moving closer to me on the couch. I sighed. “Because you’re… you. The Superdude. You can see every flaw…”. “There isn’t a flaw on your body”, he smiled. I scoffed at him. “I’m serious! Every little thing… the wrinkle between your eyebrows when you’re concentrating… how your one hand is a little bit smaller than the other… that beauty-mark on your back…”. “How did you know about that?”, I interrupted. He smiled embarrassedly. “That loose fitting top you wore on our last date. The dark blue one”, he muttered. “I love all of it”. I half-smiled. “There’s actually two of them… the beauty-marks”, I said. “I didn’t want you to think I was creepy for looking”, he smirked.

“You love it?”, I mumbled. He swallowed. “Yeah, Red”, he said. “I mean… I’ve fallen hard for you”. I giggled nervously. “So, this is real…”, I muttered. “I want it to be”, he smiled. “Do you?”. I nodded, and looked at him through my lashes. “Yeah, I do”, I said.

He let out a relieved sigh, and chuckled “Good… Are you sure?”, he smirked. “I could introduce you to Arthur”. I frowned. “Arthur?”, I sneered. “In that case, never mind!”.

We laughed together; before Clarks face became apprehensive. “And…”, he couldn’t form the words. “Your other side?”, I said. He shook his head. “It’s not my other side. It’s me. It’s who I am”.

I squeezed his hand gently, and placed it on my knee. “I fell for you, without knowing everything you were”, I said. “What I know now… just makes you… better”. His eyes lit up. “Really?”, he half-whispered. “Yeah”, I smirked. “Besides; I kind of like how the suit makes your butt look”.

He raised his brows at me and laughed – putting his free hand to my cheek, and stroking my temple. “Oh!”, he said. “Well… yours isn’t half bad either”. I frowned. “Did you x-ray my pants?”, I asked; narrowing my eyes at him. He tightened his lips. “Not yet… do you want me to? I mean… I’m up for it”, he smiled, and moved his other hand up my thigh.

I chuckled; and put my hand on his cheek; pulling him closer. “Let’s do the kissing part first – we can get to what’s in my pants later”, I smirked. “Unless, of course, you have another superhero emergency you need to tend to".

He closed his eyes and listened; then opened them again. “Nah, we’re good”, he smiled; and his lips met mine.

He tasted like apple pie and sunshine.

—

#superman #superman x reader #clark kent #clark kent x reader #superman oneshot #clark kent oneshot

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chilling-in-the-dark · 4 years

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The Batboys Growing Up as Yanderes Part 4: Tim Drake

This is a yandere story; it mentions elements of obsession, possessiveness, death, murder, stalking, and kidnapping. If any of this is triggering for you, I understand, and you don’t have to read it.

As always, feedback is welcomed.

The first time Tim saw you he was nine, he was watching for Batman and Robin, but instead, he’d found you, a thief slipping in and out of trouble always performing daring but narrow escapes. It didn’t take him long to figure out who you were.

You were a child of one of Gotham’s elite, a runaway who’d been reported missing over a year ago. Officially you nobody knew why you’d left home, but unofficially it was said that you left because your father had been an abusive drunk. Tim really didn’t like to think about it or the circumstances that lead to you leading your current life.

By the time Tim had become robin, he’d had entire photo albums dictated to you, some of the photos were of you living your daily life as a street rat, but most were of you stealing things and evading the police.

Tim watched you silently for years; that is until Jason Todd died, and Batman went on a rampage. After he became robin Tim had nearly unlimited access to Bruce Wayne’s money.

You were fourteen the first time you’d come back to the den you’d made in the attic of an abandoned church to find an envelope of cash placed neatly on top of your sleeping bag. From your Admirer was written on the front in neat swirling cursive.

You shouldn’t have taken the money, even back then you knew this, money came with strings attached, but you needed it so very badly. It was a lot of money, like a lot of money, enough that you wouldn’t have to worry about starving for the next six months at least. Against your better judgment, you ended up keeping the money, but moved to a different location, hoping that your so-called Admirer wouldn’t be able to find you.

You found the next envelope six months later, it contained not only more money, but there was also a note written in the same handwriting, both the first and second envelopes had on the front.

I thought you looked lovely last night, you always do when you’re dodging trouble, but really if you needed more money you should have let me know, after-all I want nothing more than to take care of you angel.

Love,

Your Admirer

Your blood froze in your veins; you didn’t know how but they had, they’d found you again. This went on for several more years, your Admirer leaving money and you finding a new hiding place. You’d come to except this as your new routine, your Admirer never did anything that made you feel unsafe, at least until you turned seventeen, and something happened that made you run for your life.

You’d come home to find the standard biannual envelope of cash on your bed, but something was different this time. Inside the envelope, there were two photos enclosed with the money. The first was of you and your boyfriend in the middle of making out. There was a message written on the back in large angry scrawl was Did you think I wouldn’t find out. The next was of your boyfriends’ dead body, he’d been hung upside down so all of the blood could drain out of him. The killer had written you are mine in blood on the wall behind your boyfriend.

It took everything in you to keep from puking; once you’d pushed down the nausea and grief, you started to run to the nearest bus station. This time you were going to take the money and leave Gotham behind you; you’d heard Metropolis was beautiful this time of year. Little did you know you’d chosen the wrong city to run to.

Bruce and Mrs. Wayne were trying to figure out why Tim seemed even busier they unusual, that is, until they found the stash of photos Tim had taken of you. Some of them were of you evading the police, but most were of you living your daily life.

Mrs. Wayne saw a few that made her ask Bruce to give Tim the talk. She didn’t trust Jack Drake to have done it himself, and besides that, Tim’s talk would need to be a little different from other boys his age. He was a very special boy after all, he’d need a conversation that included his tendencies as well.

Bruce sat Tim down and got the whole story, how much he loved you, how long he’d watched you, the money he’d left, and you taking off on a bus to Metropolis, his plan to get you back, but he needed to get someplace to keep you ready first. Tim knew being so obsessed with someone wasn’t normal, but he’d done it anyway, watching you had made him feel less lonely.

Bruce just smiled at the boy and explained to him that what he was doing was all perfectly alright. If that was all that was wrong, it would be an easy fix. The manor already had everything they’d need to keep you safe and happy until you excepted Tim’s love.

In the meantime, Bruce could have a talk with the boy about not getting caught or dragging his vigilante identity into it. Ideally, the boy would have come out about it sooner; after all, he was nearly eighteen and ready to strike out on his own. Bruce worried whether he’d have time to teach Tim everything he needed to know.

All Clark needed was a photo of the girl, and she’d be found within the hour, it’s not Like Clark didn’t have his own wife tucked away on his family farm back in Smallville after all Bruce had helped catch her when she’d tried to run away last year. She’d run to the Justice League looking for help, not realizing most of them had someone they loved more than life, and they’d all give their right arm to keep them.

You hadn’t thought anything of it when superman flew overhead, after all, Metropolis was his city to look after, you’d seen the bat’s on patrol often enough in Gotham. Heck Robin had once saved you from a mugger.

Nor were you worried when a man who introduced himself as Clark came up and asked for directions either; why would you be, you weren’t in Gotham anymore, this city was so much safer. At least that’s what you thought, but you realized you should have been more cautious when your head started to spin because as soon as you turned around to point in the direction the man needed to head, he’d stabbed you with a needle.

In the half-second it took you to lose consciousness, you wondered if this was the mysterious Admirer who’d killed the love of your life, but you’d find out soon enough that it wasn’t him, no for better or worse the Admirer was Tim Drake.

You woke sometime later in an unfamiliar room with a killer headache, the first thing that should have tipped you off to the fact that this wasn’t your room was that the bed beneath you was soft, and so was the blanket that lay over top of you. At first, you thought you were alone, that is until you finally managed to pry open your eyes.

A boy about your age sat in a chair beside the bed, you knew who he was, anyone with half a brain would recognize Tim Drake. Having noticed your awakening, he leaned over the bed to gently run his thumb over your jaw. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said affectionately. He had the gall to look surprised when you slapped his had away and made a break for the set of doors nearest you. Which turned out to be a large walk-in closet.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Tim asked as he watched you fly over to the next set of double doors. His voice sickeningly sweet, he knew that what you were doing was a normal response to your situation. Tim wasn’t delusional enough to think that you’d love him right away, but he wasn’t like Dick. Tim wasn’t going to force your love because he knew given enough time, you’d come to care for him on your own.

You’d given up trying to open the obviously locked doors only to start pounding on them with your fist, screaming for help that would never come. Tim was torn between waiting for you to wear yourself out or stop you from hurting yourself, at least you hadn’t tried to attack him yet. Bruce had told stories about when Mrs. Wayne had spent time in this same room, he couldn’t even bring her breakfast without her trying to attack.

That gave Tim hope because they were one of the most loving couples he knew, he just needed patience, and you’d love him as much as he loved you. Tim had been patient for eight years, what was a few more in comparison to that. He kept the smile on his face as he walked up behind you and held your arms to your chest before you could do any permanent harm to yourself.

Tags:

@yanderepeterparker

@idkmanicantenglish

@prettyafghan

Grow up as only

@neon-phosphorecsent

@foggyturtleknightangel

#Yandere DC #yandere dc comics #Yandere Tim Drake #Yandere Batboys #CITD writes #part 4 #yandere tim #Yandere batman #Yandere Red Robin #Dark DC #Dark tim drake #yandere x reader #x reader #reader insert

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walkerwords · 4 years

Text

“Careful You” Part 1 of 2 - Shane x F!Reader, Daryl x F!Reader

PART II

Request from anonymous: A Shane x reader x Daryl where reader and Shane we’re together since the beginning but reader realized he’s becoming an ass and Daryl (who the reader secretly likes) says “I know you ain’t in love with him” pretty please??? Thank you!!!!

Word Count: 5063

Warning: Cursing, Violence

Song I Wrote To: “Careful You” by TV On The Radio

Note: So yes! This will be a two-part request story. I got hella carried away with this one and I didn’t wanna post the whole thing so part 1 today and part 2 tomorrow! I’m sorry if ya like Shane but hes an asshole in this at times. It jumps around a bit from the quarry to the cdc to the highway to the greene farm. The real emotional stuff is in part two so I hope yall like this. reminder: I may not fill every request, ill only pick the ones I know I can make somethin good, but still send them!

------

You began to notice a change in Shane when Rick Grimes was reunited with his family.

Before the world turned, you, Shane, Rick, and Lori were the best of friends. It was always double dates after work and the four of you planning Carl’s birthday parties. It was Rick and Lori and Shane and you, no matter what. Shane Walsh wasn’t an easy man to love, but love him, you did.

The first time you saw him it was at a bar in downtown Atlanta. Rick and Shane were out in the city for a weekend to celebrate some kind of achievement they got from the Academy. You had noticed his dark hair and dashing smile from across the room and as soon as your eyes met, you were done. Shane Walsh became your person and you never thought anything would get in between the two of you. And nothing did...until the end of the world.

You weren’t an idiot, you knew about Shane and Lori. Hell, you probably knew about his attraction to her before she did. You ignored it the best you could before the world ended, but now it was hard to ignore the fact that your boyfriend, the man you loved, was in love with another woman.

A married woman.

Then when Rick stepped out of that truck and Carl ran from Lori’s arms, the ground rocked beneath your feet. When you had hugged him once his family had let go, it was more than relief that cascaded over you, it was gratitude. With Rick back, there wouldn’t be time for Shane to gawk at his best friend’s girl, let alone sneak off into the woods with her. Hopefully, things would start to go back to normal.

However, whenever Lori was alone, Shane was still there. He would be watching her, looking out for Carl, and he’d do it right in front of Rick. Rick didn’t seem to notice and if he did, he ignored it and acted as if everything was the way it once was. It pissed you off to see him act so naive, but you figured he didn’t want to start anything. The last thing any of you needed was in-fighting within the group.

However, it didn’t take long for said in-fighting to start. Especially once Daryl Dixon came back from his hunt. You had met both of the Dixon brothers the day they arrived at the camp. Merle was an asshole and immediately began hitting on you. Shane had shut that down within a few seconds, making sure the older Dixon knew that you were his girl and to keep his paws and his mouth to himself. It was one of the only times Shane had claimed you in front of the group.

As for Daryl, you weren’t sure about where his head was at. He followed his brother closely and you figured he had been doing so his entire life. Daryl was his brother’s opposite. While he still had a mouth on him when he did happen to speak up, he didn’t purposefully inject himself into conversations or make lewd remarks at the women in the camp. He kept his head down and his crossbow up when it was warranted. He was also great at hunting and had taken the job of getting food for the group.

Carl had once told you that he thought Daryl was “cool”, but that he kind of scared him. You had laughed and assured the kid, whom you considered a nephew, not to worry. Dixon may be a bit rough around the edges, but he was harmless. Though you made sure to tell him to steer clear of Merle and Carl didn’t argue about that.

The other thing you noticed about Daryl was that he always seemed to know where you were. You had noticed him watching you in the camp. At first, it was simple glances here and there and then his eyes started to linger more and more. You considered telling him not to due to how Shane normally reacted whenever another man looked at you, but whenever you turned to look at your boyfriend, his eyes would be on Lori and you would give up and go talk to Andrea or Amy to pass the time.

You had only spoken to Daryl a couple of times. Once when you had run into him as he walked back to camp carrying rabbits on a line. You heard a rustle in the trees and pulled your weapon, a police-issued pistol Shane had given you after the Turn. Daryl froze as the barrel became trained on him. You dropped it immediately. “Shit, sorry,” you had said.

“Careful where ya point that thing, girl,” Daryl had scoffed. “Don’t need my damn head blown off cause ya trigger happy.” You had rolled your eyes and holstered your gun.

“Such a charmer, Dixon,” you told him and left him with his fresh kill. That night after your run-in in the woods was when he first started watching you. The other times you had spoken to him were just in passing and it was always when both Merle and Shane weren’t there. It seemed like your friendship, if you could call it that, was only acknowledged when the alpha males in both of your lives took a hike. And while it bothered you, you accepted it. It’s just the way the world was now.

On the day that Rick told you all that they had left Merle in Atlanta, you knew Daryl was going to be pissed and he definitely was. You watched from the doorway to the RV as Daryl yelled at Rick. The emotion was clear on his face as he thought about his brother being chained to the roof like an animal as he waited to be eaten by Walkers.

When Daryl had thrown a punch and Shane placed him in the chokehold, that is when you stepped in. You shoved Rick back and knocked Shane’s feet from under him. Daryl and Shane went down hard on the ground and Daryl shoved out of Walsh’s arms. “Stop it!” you yelled, getting between the men. “None of this alpha-male bullshit is helping anyone. Rick,” you said, looking at him, “you screwed up. Merle screwed up. It was bound to happen at some point! So instead of acting like idiots, do something.” You then turned and offered your hand to Daryl who took it and you helped him to his feet.

You watched as Daryl stormed off and without thinking, you followed him, ignoring Shane’s calls. You found him as he exited his tent on the edge of the camp. He was throwing things into a backpack and gathering up his bolts for his bow. “Daryl,” you said. He looked up at you and scoffed.

“Don’t need yer sympathy, girl,” he shot at you. “Don’t need ya fightin’ my battles either. I can handle yer damn boyfriend.”

“Never said you couldn’t,” you said. “Shane is a hothead and yeah, Rick can be an asshole, but they mean well.”

“Yer friend Rick left my brother to die!” he yelled, pointing over your shoulder.

“I know,” you said, trying to calm him down, but Daryl marched up to you, getting in your face and looking you over.

“You know nothin’,” he snarled in a low voice before pushing past you, knocking into your shoulder. You pushed your hands into your hair as you took a deep breath.

“(Y/N)!” you turned to see Shane walking towards you.

“What now?” you asked, not wanting to start another argument.

“You need to stay away from Dixon,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Excuse me?” you asked, mirroring his stance. “I don’t need to do anything, Walsh,” you said. “He’s pissed about Merle. What if it was me or Rick that was left on that rooftop? You’d be pretty pissed too.”

“Don’t loop me in with him,” Shane said with a touch of disgust. You rolled your eyes. “What?”

“I’m just sick of people acting like there aren’t worse problems out there than a few petty arguments or having to be with people you don’t like.” You relaxed your arms and reached for his hands and he let you. You squeezed Shane’s hands tight in your own, looking into his eyes. “Shane, there are monsters walking around and we need to start thinking about how to protect our people from them. How to protect the kids like Carl and Sophia.”

“What do you think I’ve been doin’?” he asked, his voice softer. “That’s all I’ve been tryin’ to do, (Y/N).”

“I know, but sometimes you try to take on too much by yourself. Let others take some of the weight, okay? I’m here and now so is Rick. You have Dale and Glenn who are always willin’ to help. Lori, too. Stop trying to be Superman.” Shane looked at you for a moment before he nodded. He then tugged you forward and kissed you firmly. When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead on yours.

“Rick is gonna take Daryl back, go look for Merle,” Shane said quietly.

“Are you goin’ with?” you asked.

“No, I’m stayin’ here to protect the camp,” he then leaned back and looked at you with a fierce look in his eyes. “And so are you.” You knew there was no point in arguing so with a sigh you nodded. He pressed another kiss to your lips before leaving you alone. As Shane walked away, you caught Daryl watching you from where he stood next to Glenn. You couldn’t read his expression, but there was an intensity to it that had you turning away from him.

However, there was a feeling that his eyes remained fixed on you even as you headed into the tent you shared with Shane.

-------

Of course, it wasn’t long until things got worse.

While Daryl, Glenn, Rick, and the others were out looking for Merle, Shane was following Lori around like a lost dog while you distracted Carl, trying to keep his mind off his father leaving again. When you had first met the smallest Grimes, he took to you immediately. You weren’t just Uncle Shane’s girlfriend, Carl considered you family as well.

It was Carl who you were sitting with when the Walkers entered the camp. You heard the screams of panic first and you moved. Grabbing Carl by his collar, you pushed him behind you as you watched Andrea’s sister, Amy, get taken down by a Walker. Carl clutched the back of your jacket as you pulled your own weapon, taking aim at the monsters that converged on the quarry.

Shane was there in a second and he took out all the Walkers that surrounded the RV. He then pushed all the kids towards the vehicle, locking them inside as the rest of you aimed at the Dead. Only a moment later, shots were coming from another direction. Rick and the others came through the woods, their guns blazing. Their sudden appearance caused you to miss the Walker stumbling towards you. You raised your gun as it grabbed your shoulder, but a bolt flew past your ear and struck the Walker that clung to you. Daryl ran past you, giving you a once over before taking aim again.

Snapping out of your shock, you finished off the rest of the Walkers that feasted on your new comrades. A cry pulled your attention as you saw Carol staring at her now-dead husband. You had no remorse for Ed, he wasn’t a good man at all, but the heartbreak on both Carol and Sophia’s faces made you pause.

Once the Walkers were down and people had calmed down, you searched for Shane. You found him by the RV, moving the kids out and away from the body that lay before it. You didn’t need to look closer to know it was Amy. You turned away, looking for Carl and felt relief when you saw him with his parents as the three of them embraced. Looking back over your shoulder you saw Shane and how he watched the Grimes family. The envy in his eyes made you uneasy. He looked at the man he considered his brother as a rival now even though Lori was never his, to begin with. Again, you shoved down your feelings and went to help move the bodies out of the camp.

It was morning by the time everyone had sorted between the Dead. Two piles. One for friends to be buried and the other full of Walkers that were to be burned. You didn’t see the point in either practice. You knew that if you walked down the hill and onto the roads, bodies were strewn everywhere. It had simply become the new normal. However, you knew it was their way of trying to find some normalcy in the new screwed up world, but you couldn’t see it the way they could.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Andrea as she knelt over Amy’s body. You knew that she would turn any time now. It was already happening and it made you sick to think about someone you knew becoming one of those things. It was all just a bit too much at that moment.

You excused yourself and headed to the far side of the camp, settling down on a log, leaning your forearms on your knees. You took a few deep breaths and tried to focus on anything that wasn’t the memory of the screams of people being torn apart. The log shifted as someone took a spot next to you. You figured it was Shane so you ignored him. However, when you spotted the crossbow on the ground between their feet, you relaxed and turned to look at Daryl.

“Thanks for last night,” you said, breaking the silence. He grunted a response that you had become accustomed to. “What happened?” you asked, not needing to elaborate further. Everyone noticed that only one Dixon brother came back.

“He’s gone,” Daryl muttered, “cut his own damn hand off to get out of the cuffs.” Your brows shot up at that, but you weren’t that surprised. It sounded like something Merle Dixon would do.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, turning your face back towards the camp as Glenn dragged more bodies through the camp.

“What she waitin’ for?” Daryl asked as he looked at Andrea.

“People cope differently,” you said. “Maybe she just needs to see it for herself.”

“Don’t make sense,” he mumbled.

“I don’t get it either,” you sighed, “Dead is dead. Whatever this is…” you waved your hand vaguely at the Walker corpses, “They just need to be put down. Amy doesn’t deserve to become a monster.”

“I could probably hit her from here,” Daryl said, toeing his bow, but you shook your head.

“She nearly ripped Rick’s head off when he mentioned putting her down. We don’t need any more damn fighting,” you said with a warning tone. Daryl nodded and then was silent for a bit.

“I agree with ya, ya know?” Daryl said after a minute.

“About what?” you asked.

“Nobody deserves to be a Walker,” he clarified. “I wouldn’t want someone to wait, ya know?”

“I do,” you said, understanding. “Make me a deal, Dixon. If I get bit, you shoot me right away. Don’t let me turn,” you said, offering your hand. Daryl looked at you and then took your hand in his, gripping it tightly.

“Only if ya return the favor,” he said and you nodded. You shook hands and then let go, feeling Shane’s eyes on you. “Yer boy keeps starin’,” Daryl said.

“Yeah,” you said before you stood up, brushing off your jeans. “I’m holdin’ you to that promise.” He nodded to you again and you left him alone to his thoughts.

------

When Rick and Shane decided to go to the CDC, you were less than thrilled.

The last thing you wanted was to go back into the city. Considering the things you saw there the last time you were there, it wasn’t the most desirable plan. However, you knew that you were outnumbered, and with Jim trying to fight the infection, you went along with it.

Everyone knew that Jim wasn’t long for the world. The fever took him fast and you knew there wasn’t a cure. If there was one, every street in Atlanta wouldn’t be crawling with Walkers and littered with half-eaten bodies. Again, you also knew that it was all about optimism and Rick felt that this was the right choice.

Sitting in the RV, you leaned against Shane. He kept his arm wrapped around you and rubbed your arm and down the side of your thigh. It was nice to just sit with him for once instead of feeling the distance that had began to deepen between the two of you. Shane rested his head on your shoulder, kissing the place your neck met your shoulder and you sighed, resting your head against his chest. Carl was making kissing faces at the both of you and you stuck your tongue at him causing him to laugh.

“You trying to steal my girl, Grimes?” Shane teased the kid.

“(Y/N) likes me better!” Carl joked causing Shane to chuckle. He gripped you tighter, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Easy gentlemen,” you said with a smile. “I think we both know that Lori and I are the true soulmates.” Lori laughed at that.

“I’ll take that,” she laughed.

It was an easy ride from there on until Jim got worse. You all went from laughing and joking to feeling somber as Daryl, Rick, and Shane helped Jim off the road and under a tree. When they tried to hand him a weapon, Jim shook his head. Rick and Shane left him, giving him a final goodbye, but Daryl stalled, looking down at his bow and the dying man. He then turned and started to walk back to the truck. You stepped in his path, a pleading look in your eyes. He shook his head.

“It’s his choice, (Y/N),” Daryl said, knowing what you wanted to say. Daryl pushed past you as Jim closed his eyes. You fought the urge to yell as you made your way back into the RV. Instead of sitting back down with Shane, you went to the back and laid down, trying to drown out everything around you. You fell asleep as the RV rumbled beneath you, getting some decent rest for the first time in weeks.

Shane lightly shook you awake when the caravan finally came to a stop. The look on his face made you sit up quickly. “What is it?” you asked.

“Just...prepare yourself,” he said and offered his hand. You took it and he led you out of the RV. The smell was what hit you first and then you saw the source. Bodies were everywhere. Lori and Carol kept their arms around their children as your group moved through the rotting corpses. Daryl and Rick headed up the group while you and Shane took the rear, all of your weapons ready to fire if needed.

“I don’t like this,” you whispered to Shane as you stepped over another body.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya safe, (Y/L/N),” he joked, poking you in the ribs.

“It’s not funny, Shane,” you chastised. “I don’t like being out in the open like this. We’re vulnerable, especially with the kids.”

“Everything is gonna be fine,” Shane assured you. He winked at you and you pushed ahead of him as you started to hear groans and shuffling of the Dead as they noticed you moving towards the shuttered building. Daryl began taking them out while Rick yelled at the cameras. Lori urged her husband to leave it. Rick continued to yell, begging that whoever was inside to open the doors because they had children and they were desperate. You wanted to yell at him to shut up as more Walkers kept coming out of the shadows.

You stumble over a corpse, nearly going down when Carol caught your arm and pulled you back up. Daryl stepped in front of you then, covering you, Carol, and Sophia. Rick was still yelling and that was when Shane started too. He called to Rick, trying to get him to retreat, but before any of you could make your way back to the cars, the metal shudders slid open with blinding lights. You gawked at the sight and then you felt hands tugging you along as Shane gripped your wrist and pulled you through the mess of dead bodies and into the safety of the CDC.

------

Doctor Jenner was an odd one and you didn’t trust him.

Glenn, however, was thrilled at the promise of hot water, and then when the wine was cracked open, everybody loved Jenner. Even Daryl had a smile on his face as he drank wine and laughed with the others, his Georgian accent getting thicker with every sip. Shane drank deeply as he sat at the table next to you, his hand gripping your leg under the table. Your glass remained full as you occasionally swirled it in your hand. You figured someone had to be sober when eventually everything went to shit.

Daryl filled up Glenn’s glass again as T-Dog went for thirds. And while you were worried about things and just trying to stay calm, it was nice to see your friends and family laughing for the first time in weeks. You offered Shane the rest of your wine and he drank greedily. “Thanks, babe,” he said, kissing you. You could taste the alcohol on his lips as he kissed you and leaned his head against yours. He downed the rest of the wine and you caught Daryl looking at you. When your eyes met his, he quickly looked away and took a long pull from the bottle in his hands. The whole back and forth was starting to get tiring.

Eventually, it was time for some much-needed sleep. It would be the next morning when Jenner started explaining everything so you all headed to your new beds for the night. You and Shane pushed into a vacant room, pulling off your boots. Laying in bed, you stretched out, enjoying the feel of a proper mattress under you for the first time since the world ended. Shane stumbled over to the bed, dropping down beside you. He rolled over and braced his elbowd on either side of you. He leaned down to kiss you as his hands ran up your sides, but you pushed him back.

“You’re drunk, Shane,” you said, pushing against his chest. He looked down at you with a frown.

“(Y/N)...,” he whined, kissing down your neck.

“Shane, stop,” you said, taking his shoulders and pushing him again. This time he relented and flipped back over. He sighed as his eyes pressed closed. His hand found yours, playing with your fingers.

“I love you…” he said, looking over at you with heavy eyes.

“I love you, too, idiot,” you said. Shane huffed and sat up. “Where are you going?” you asked as you watched him stagger towards the door.

“Gonna walk it off,” Shane mumbled. “See if Rick is still up.” Shane stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him. You flopped back down to the mattress and then eyed the bathroom on the other side of the room. You figured you wouldn’t get another chance to have hot water in a while so you headed for a much-needed shower.

As soon as the hot water hit your body, you felt as if you were transported back in time. You stayed under the spray as long as possible, relishing in the feel of finally being clean after living in the woods for so long. You scrubbed your hair until it slipped through your fingers, free of tangles. Once you had your fill of the luxury the CDC had to offer, you shut the water off and grabbed a fluffy towel, wrapping it around your body.

After getting dressed and combing your fingers through your hair, you figured you should go find your boyfriend before he passed out in some lab or something. The halls of the residences were quiet as you moved through them, peeking around corners as you searched for Shane. When you turned again, you nearly ran into someone. They steadied you with their hands, grabbing onto your shoulders. Looking up, you saw that it was Daryl.

“Ya showered,” he said. You nodded slowly, trying not to laugh at his surprised expression. You then noticed the fine layer of dirty still adorning his skin.

“Yeah, you should try it, mountain man,” you teased, flicking a piece of dirt off his shirt. He scoffed at your words. He then realized he was still holding onto you and awkwardly let go. “Hey, have you seen Shane? He’s not exactly lucid right now and I don’t wanna find him passed out in a supply closet.” Daryl’s jaw went rigid at your words.

“Ya, saw him followin’ Grimes,” he said, looking away from you.

“Rick?”

“Nah,” Daryl grunted, moving past you, “Lori.”

-----

You didn’t bother to look for Shane after your run-in with Daryl. You went back to your room and tried to get some sleep. This time you did feel like an idiot. As if Shane would really leave her alone just because Rick was back. You stared at the ceiling, trying to stop your mind from creating scenarios about Lori and Shane in your head.

An hour or so later and the door opened. Shane glided into the room, clearly not as drunk as he had been. He pulled off his shoes and sank onto the mattress beside you. He rolled into your side, throwing an arm across your waist, his fingers playing with the fabric of your shirt. “I’m sorry about before,” he said, “you know I’m an ass when I drink.” You did know that which is why you had remained sober.

“It’s fine,” you said, which is what you always said when he apologized when he was being an asshole. His hand stilled on your stomach as his breathing slowed and he slowly fell asleep. A small amount of light entered the room from a crack in the door and as you looked down at your boyfriend you could see fresh scratch marks on his neck. You didn’t have to think too hard about whose nails had made them.

Your hand came up and carded through Shane’s hair. In his sleep, he nuzzled you closer and you had to fight the tears that welled up. You could do this, you could be there for him when he needed it because that is what you had always done for him. The end of the world didn’t need to change that. Right?

——-

The next day everything went from bad to worse.

Watching the MRI on the large monitor was horrifying. Even Shane was disturbed. As you all watched the patient reanimate, Shane had reached over and gripped your hand. The two of you hadn’t said anything about the previous night. At breakfast, he had played off the scratches as a drunken accident, but you noted the look in Lori’s face and you noticed that Daryl and even Carol were looking at her and Shane with accusatory glances.

When Jenner invited you all into the main theater for the explanation, hope was upon everyone’s faces as they urged the doctor to tell them about a cure. However, just as you suspected, there wasn’t one. Jenner explained that he was the only one left. He worked as hard as he could, but eventually there was no point.

Then, as soon as everybody started to realize what was happening, it was nearly too late.

The blaring red countdown clock was staring you all in the face as the CDC went into full lockdown. Sophia and Carl were stressed and Daryl was pissed. Rick and the others had to restrain the archer as he nearly decapitated Jenner with a fire ax. You, yourself, wanted to attack the man as well. You also wanted to beat Rick to a pulp for getting you into this mess in the first place.

Eventually, Rick convinced Jenner to let you out, but Andrea, Dale, and Jacqui were staying behind to succumb to the implosion. You rushed after the others towards the lobby. Shane pulled you along, nearly carrying you as you sped through the halls. With the metal shudders lifted, you could see the bodies of the dead even clearer in the sunlight now through the large windows. While you weren’t thrilled about going back into the world of the Dead, it was better than being incinerated.

You knew you were in trouble when the glass wouldn’t break. When Carol had produced the grenade, you could have kissed her. Rick set the charge and you all hit the deck. When the blast went off, you felt a body cover you and you knew immediately that it wasn’t Shane.

You didn’t say a word as Daryl used his body to keep you close to the ground. You just waited for the ground to stop moving before getting your bearings. Daryl hauled you up and took off towards the blown-out window without saying a word.

You helped with the kids as they climbed down to the ground, keeping them from the shattered glass. Then, following the others, you took off across the courtyard. Aiming your gun, you and some of the others took out Walkers that were drawn by the grenade. You all ran for the cars going as fast as you could. Entering the RV, you all hunkered down. You could see Daryl dive into his truck and Rick shouted at everyone to cover their ears.

But then Dale and Andrea came running out of the building. You crouched down again unable to see if they made it or not and this time it was Shane that held onto you. You covered your ears as a blast echoed throughout the city. The RV shook around you and when the smoke cleared and you stood up to look out the window, the CDC was gone.

#walking dead #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead imagines #walkerwords #shane walsh x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon #shane walsh #rick grimes #season 1 twd #twd #twd imagines

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redhoodssweetheart · 4 years

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L.O.V.E.

Genre: Fluff

Relationship: Clark Kent x Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes by @marshmallows-and-champagne (REQUESTS ARE CLOSED)

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Fluff

Description: Clark Kent has been in love with the reserved rich girl since college. Ever since meeting you and becoming friends his feelings have grown, and he’s hoping that when he confesses you’ll feel the same about him.

Clark had known you since college. The two of you had been paired for a project and from there had become unlikely friends. He was the farm boy from Smallville, and you were the rich girl from Metropolis. Complete polar opposites, but there was just something about the two of you that worked.

You weren’t into going wild like most people in college did, instead you preferred to sneak over to Clark’s dorm so that the two of you could watch movies. Then there were the days when you would go to the coffee shop on campus and just sit quietly and work on whatever projects and homework the two of you had.

Now the two of you were older and still close. Clark had moved to Metropolis to become a reporter for the Daily Planet and you had gone to work for your family’s company. Seeing each other had become few and far between with how busy life had gotten for you. Clark missed the days when you could see each other on a daily basis.

If he were being honest it wasn’t just because he missed hanging out with his friend, it was because he had fallen in love with you. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, he wasn’t sure when he had even realized he had fallen in love with you. He just remembered thinking, “I’m in love with her,” and that was that.

You had no idea about his feelings for you. There had been a couple of times when Clark had gone to tell you the truth, but had chickened out at the last second. He was afraid that he wasn’t enough for you. You had grown up with everything and he was just from Smallville, USA. What could he give you?

“Clark?” There was a hand waving in front of his face and he blinked several times realizing that you were sitting in front of him. “Earth to Clark Kent, anyone home?” You smiled when you realized he seemed to be coming back to reality. “Where’d you go, Clark? You’ve been lost in thought since I got here.”

Clark hadn’t even realized you had arrived for your coffee date with him. You had rescheduled four times prior, but today you finally had an opening and called to tell him. “Sorry, I was, uh, just thinking about a story.”

Chuckling you sipped on your drink, “So dedicated to your craft, that’s what I love about you.”

Clark’s heart seemed to have skipped a beat when you said ‘love’. “Well, I’m not the only one Miss I have to reschedule our coffee date because there’s a meeting today at three and it’s a big one.”

You looked down and tried to hide your embarrassment, “I’m sorry. Really, the board members were insistent that I needed to be there. Although I think it could have been put into an email.”

Clark knew what those meetings were like, “In my experience most meetings could be summed up into emails.”

“I think some of the board just likes to hear themselves talk,” you confessed. “Mr. Moore is always droning on and one, I swear one time I almost fell asleep.”

That wasn’t a surprising fact, you hated it when people droned on and on about things. He had once nudged you awake in class because the professor had bored you half to death. “Do you need me to sit in on those meetings and make sure you don’t fall asleep?”

“Would you?” You said half jokingly and half seriously. “Plus we could pass notes like a high schoolers.”

Clark shook his head, a wide smile on his face, “Don’t ever change, Y/N/N.”

You smiled shyly at him and changed the subject to see what he had been up to recently. He told you about his trip to Gotham to see Bruce Wayne for an interview. You knew Bruce was notoriously private and it was a huge score for Clark to get the interview like that. He had come a long way since college and you were glad that you had gotten to see that growth.

When your lunch breaks were over, you went your separate ways promising to try again soon. You hoped that you would have more time to spend with him in the future, and Clark wished the same as he watched you get into your car and drive off.

Two weeks passed since you had seen Clark at the coffee shop. You were standing out on your balcony with a glass of wine in hand admiring the city below. Skyscrapers rose high above the ground, cars drove by lazily, their tail lights casting a red glow down the street as lights flashed from green to yellow to red and then back to green again.

This was the first time you had actually made it home at a reasonable hour and got to spend some time to yourself. You fiddled with you phone wondering if you should call Clark or if he was too busy for you. Chewing on your lip you opted to text him instead, asking if he was free.

You waited but there was no response and you let out a little sigh.

“Hello,” the voice startled you so much you almost dropped your drink. Looking up you saw Superman floating in front of your balcony.

“You’re… you’re Superman,” you sputtered. You had seen images and videos of Superman, but you had never seen him in person before. “What’re you doing here?”

“I was flying by and you seemed lonely,” he told you, he landed beside you on the balcony and you turned to face him. “I just thought I would say hello and keep you company for a few minutes.”

Looking at him now up close and in person there was something familiar about him. “Do you do this often?” You asked. “Landing on people’s balconies and saying hello?”

He chuckled sheepishly, “No, I must say I don’t often find myself doing this.”

“Then what’s so special about little old me? I’m sure there’s plenty of people down there that need you right now,” you told him as you gestured out over the city.

“It’s a slow night,” he told you. “Plus I look out for the wellbeing of everyone in this city and that includes when people are lonely.”

You moved close to him, your eyes narrowing, “You look familiar….”

Superman seemed to become nervous at that, “I don’t believe we’ve ever met. I don’t remember you, I’m sorry.”

You searched his face for something that would clue you in on who he was. Your eyes landed on a little scar on his lip. It was inconsequential for the most part, but you knew someone with that same scar. “Clark?” Your voice came out a little above a whisper. “Oh my God, Clark is that you?”

Superman’s - Clark’s - eyes widened and you knew you were right. “I’m sorry, I think you have me mistaken for someone else. I should go, I just wanted to see if you were all right, and you are, so now I’m going to go.”

He went to leave, but you caught his arm with your hand, “No!” He turned to look at you and saw a look of desperation on your face. “Is this where you go at night, Clark? And don’t tell me you’re not him, you have the same scar as him. And I’d know my best friend anywhere. So tell me the truth, are you Clark Kent?”

Clark closed his eyes and nodded his head, “It’s me.”

You took a step back and covered your mouth with your hand. “How did I not know?”

“Well I mean it’s a secret identity for a reason,” he told you.

You frowned at him, “I’m your best friend! How could you not tell me?!”

He flinched, “Because I was trying to protect you, Y/N. I didn’t want something bad to happen to you because you knew I was Superman. I hated keeping the secret from you, but trust me when I say that I did it because I wanted to keep you safe.”

“I know I’m not the most outgoing or spontaneous person, Clark, but I still have a right to know about this part of you. I can take care of myself.” You crossed your arms over your chest and looked away from him, you were feeling very conflicted at the moment.

Your best friend, the man you had known since college, was Superman. Clark on the other hand was feeling guilty for having you finding out in this way. He had wanted to tell you so many times, but his fear had held him back. Movie toward you, he gently lifted your face so that your gaze met his, and he could see the hurt in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Let me show you something.”

“What?” You asked curiously.

“Do you trust me?” He held his breath waiting for the rejection from you, for you to shout that you couldn’t trust him now. But then you gave a nod of your head and Clark gently lifted you into his arms bridal style.

“Clark,” you said hesitantly. The two of you were beginning to float off of your balcony and your arms tightened around his neck. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s okay, nothing bad is going to happen,” he promised.

“If you drop me--”

“I won’t drop you,” he was enjoying this too much, the way you clung to him and your warmth pressed against him.

Together you began flying over Metropolis, seeing it from a bird's eye view. Your fears slowly melted away as Clark carried you across the city. You could see everything from the Daily Planet to LexCorp to your own company. People looked small compared to the towering skyscrapers you were flying between. The sky was even more spectacular as you looked up, there were a few stars twinkling in the distance, and for a moment you believed you could reach out and touch them.

Your eyes landed on Clark next, he was focused on where he was going that you took this time to study him. Clark had always been handsome, he had those boy next door looks, and a smile that made your heart flutter. There had been several occasions where you had come close to asking him on a date, but thoughts of rejection kept you from doing so. Plus you didn’t want to risk losing your best friend.

Soon Clark was taking you home and setting you down on your balcony once more. His eyes searching your face to see what you were thinking about. “What? Do you have mind reading powers now too?” You quipped when you caught him studying you.

“No,” he assured you. “Nothing of the sort, I was just trying to see if you liked it.”

“I did, once I let go of the fear that you were going to drop me,” you poked him in the chest and he laughed.

“I told you I wouldn’t do that, Y/N. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

There was a soft smile on your face, “I guess this is good night then.” It was a disappointing that he had to leave, you wanted him to stay, you wanted to spend more time with him.

“I should go,” he said hesitantly. Clenching his fists at his sides he turned to leave, but paused. He looked back at you and said, “There is something else that I should confess.”

“Oh?” What else could there be? Was he secretly married as well? God you hoped not.

He walked back to you and he couldn’t quite meet your gaze, he was growing fidgety and you knew whatever this was, was important to him.

“Take your time,” you told him softly. “We’ve got time.”

“I’m just scared of how you may react,” he finally looked at you and saw the same patient expression on your face you had had on your face when you had come home with him one break and he was trying to explain how farm equipment worked. It was the look that said you could listen to him talk for as long as he wanted or wait until he worked up what courage he had to tell you what he needed to.

“Clark, I just learned that you’re Superman, anything else will seem like a cakewalk from here on out.”

“Yeah, you did handle it better than I thought you would.” Taking in a deep breath he gathered his courage and said, “Remember when we were in college and we would go to that coffee shop on campus?” You nodded your head, you could almost picture and smell the coffee shop he was talking about. The two of you had spent so much time there that you don’t think you could ever forget it. “Well it was senior year and you were working on a project. You had your pen cap in your mouth, and you were so focused on what was in front of you. And for some reason it was like the world slowed down and it hit me that I was in love with you.” You sucked in a breath, your eyes widening. “It came out of nowhere and I’m not even sure when I started developing feelings for you, but it was at that moment I realized that I was.”

“Why did you never tell me? Why now?” Could it really be true that the two of you had been in love with one another this entire time, but too afraid to admit it to the other?”

“I just never felt like I should. You were from this influential family and I was just a small town boy from the middle of nowhere, USA. I wasn’t ready to take a chance and tell you the truth,” he let out a deep breath. “But I guess tonight, you learning my secret, and me carrying you across the city made me want to confess this to you. And you don’t have to like me back or say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

You looped your arms around Clark’s neck taking him by surprise. “How is it that we’re both complete idiots that we never realized how the other felt?”

“Well I mean people still haven’t made the connection that I’m Clark Kent and all my disguise is, is a pair of glasses - wait how we both felt?” His brain finally caught up to the meaning of your words. “You love me?”

You laughed and rested your head against his chest, “Clark what am I going to do with you?”

He once again lifted your face so that you were looking at him, “Please say it.”

“I love you, Clark Kent,” you whispered to him.

“I love you too,” he whispered back before leaning down and kissing you, it was soft and sweet, and sent shivers down your spine. No matter how much you had imagined this nothing could compare to actually kissing Clark. “I still need to go,” he told you when he broke away.

“Okay,” you were only slightly disappointed by this. “Can we see each other tomorrow night? We can make dinner.”

“I’d love too,” he kissed you one last time before he began to float away. “I’ll text you when I get home.”

You waved goodbye as he took off into the air and flew away from your apartment. You still we’re sure that this had all happened and that you weren’t actually dreaming, but when morning came and Clark checked to see that you were still on for that night you couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face.

Even the long day of meetings ahead of you couldn’t sour your mood.

#Clark Kent x Reader #Clark Kent x Fem!Reader #Clark Kent x Reader fluff #Superman x Reader #Superman x Fem!Reader #Superman x Reader fluff #Clark Kent #Clark Kent fluff #Clark Kent fanfic #Clark Kent fanfiction #Superman fluff #Superman fanfic #Superman fanfiction #DC Comics #DC Comics fanfic #DC Comics fanfiction #DC Comics fluff

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ecoamerica · 25 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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blancheludis · 3 years

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@whumptober2021 Day 5: Misunderstandings

Fandom: DCU, Batman, Superman Characters: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Tags: Misunderstandings, Unhealthy Relationship, Miscommunication, Open Ending Words: 4.404

Summary: “I bought the bank,” Bruce says, his face unreadable as ever, but he looks like he is waiting for something.

Clark stands with his parents’ farm in his back, the farm that now belongs to Bruce, and he understands, loud and clear. I bought you.

So, with his mother’s home and well-being on the line, he has little choice but to follow when Bruce beckons.

---

“I bought the bank,” Bruce says, his hands hidden in his trouser pockets, completely casual.

His face is unreadable as ever but Clark knows that face by now, knows that Bruce never does anything without reason.

So, what Clark hears, loud and unmistakeably, is, I bought you.

He swallows, his mouth dry, searching for the right thing to say but coming up empty. The distance between them stretches, growing larger with every passing, silent second.

Then Bruce frowns, causing ice to spread inside Clark’s chest. Bruce bought him. That means he is not just holding Clark’s life in his hands but also that of his mother. He understands that the farm is safe for now, the house will remain standing – now the ball is in Clark’s corner to keep it that way.

“Thank you,” Clark says, far too late, but he somehow manages to sound calm, not as brittle as he feels, blindsided by this sudden change of his fate.

The frown vanishes from Bruce’s face but that only makes the icy grip around Clark’s insides tighten. He had not thought Bruce capable of this, trying to control him and demanding him to be happy about it, too.

“You didn’t have to,” Clark adds cautiously. Bruce could have just asked if he wanted Clark, did not have to go to the trouble of holding his home and family hostage.

“Nonsense,” Bruce says, dismissing in a way that seems to come so easily to him. It has Clark gritting his teeth, even while he keeps his face friendly – a very thin façade.

Here they are, regularly saving the world together, but they are apparently still not equals. Clark pointedly does not look at the house behind him, at the fading colours and the cracks in the porch, at the corner where the roof threatens to give in during the next storm. He did not grow up with money to spare but they were never poor, not in any way that matters. There was always warmth to be found in their house, always love.

Rather uncharitably, Clark thinks that is where they differ. Not because Clark is an alien with super strength and super speed, while Bruce is human. No, Clark is rich in terms of love. He knows where he comes from and where he belongs. Bruce, on the other hand, is lost, building relentlessly to hide the fact that there is no ground to build on.

“I’d invite you in,” Clark says, although he really, really would not. Whatever game Bruce is playing, he will not do it in front of his mother. “But I should tell my mom first.”

Bruce straightens even while his brow creases again just a bit, enough to make Clark wonder what the price for disappointing Bruce will be. Whether they will lose the house immediately or if he will dismantle Clark’s life in a different way first.

“I’ll come to the Manor once I’m done,” Clark offers quickly and takes a step towards Bruce, hoping he is not placating him too obviously. Bruce likes subtlety, after all.

They have known each other for a while now, fought next to each other, and yet he has no idea how to please Bruce, what is expected of him here.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Bruce says, still as unreadable, but he looks slightly less tense.

Clark smiles. It is a real thing if borne of relief instead of happiness. He is glad to take this to the Manor. It is already such an empty place, grief permeating its shadows. Clark will not feel bad about adding his own to it.

“Give my best to your mother,” Bruce says as he is already turning away, off-handed like there is nothing to it, just a social nicety.

Clark’s smile freezes. He stares at Bruce’s back. Later, he will think that he should not have been surprised. Batman is built to be a threat, his every move and word meant to subdue and intimidate. But Bruce is subtler than that, underhanded. Hiding his threats beneath well-wishes that, under any other circumstances would have been innocuous, is right up Bruce’s alley, although it hits Clark like a sucker punch.

He hears the warning loud and clear. I bought you and I expect you to fall in line. Or else.

Clark loves his home but he loves his mother more. “I will,” he says and means it. There is no other choice anyway.

---

Clark thinks briefly about contacting Diana. Perhaps she would have some insight into what Bruce expects. Although, if he is honest with himself, Clark knows. He noticed Bruce’s stares, slowly morphing from distrust to respect to something he thought was welcoming but might have been simple want instead.

He could have asked. Ignoring their bumpy beginnings, Clark liked working with Bruce. They could have built something. But perhaps that is not what Bruce is interested in. He likes control, that much is clear, and maybe he sensed that Clark does not want to be on the receiving end of that. That could be the game and Bruce will tire of it quickly. Somehow, Clark knows that will not be the case.

He is stalling. After talking to his mother, he went to his old room, her relief leaving a bittersweet aftertaste. There is so much to do, but he guesses Bruce’s patience will run out if Clark starts retiling the roof instead of doing as he is told.

No, he decides, he cannot tell Diana. She does not do subtle and Clark cannot afford force. He will give himself half an hour and then he will do what must be done. That is what heroes do, after all, even if he has never felt less like one.

Later, Alfred opens the door for him, smiling with a warmth that Clark does not understand. “Mr. Kent, what a pleasure to see you here.”

Clark nods in greeting, tries to pull up his lips and fails miserably. “I guess Bruce is waiting for me?”

He is and he is not, looking surprised when Clark enters his office. “I didn’t expect you so soon.” Clark was not exactly given a schedule, but he prefers to be early rather than late. “Come, we need to go over some things.”

Privately, Clark expects rules on how this new life of his will run. Instead, it is business as usual, talking about the League. He barely hears a word Bruce is saying but makes sure to nod in the appropriate places.

He stays for dinner – Bruce does not say he can leave – and while he knows that Alfred is an excellent cook, everything tastes like ash.

---

The first time they kiss, Bruce holds him like he is afraid Clark will disintegrate in his arms. Only when Clark pushes forward, acting eager to drown out the churning of his stomach, does the tension bleed out of Bruce’s muscles. If things were different, Clark could even enjoy this. He had thought about it, even, about Bruce. But either Bruce never looked at him the same way or he just likes to make sure his lovers cannot leave on their own terms.

All the following times, Bruce kisses like a drowning man, desperate for the air in Clark’s lungs even knowing that it is poisoned.

None of it makes sense. Clark is here to stay until he is dismissed. He will not refuse any of Bruce’s whims. And yet it feels as if it is Bruce who is waiting for the second shoe to drop, as if Clark will one day decide his mother’s home and well-being are not important for him anymore and leave.

It does not give Clark a sense of power. Instead, he just wonders when their time is finally running out, afraid of what the fallout will be.

---

“Where were you all our lives?” Jason asks one night when they are waiting for Bruce so they can eat dinner. “B is like a new person since you decided to give his sorry ass a chance.”

Clark did no such thing, but that is better kept between him and Bruce, so he shrugs. “Waiting for the right opportunity, I guess.” Bruce certainly did, and Clark did not have much choice but to follow.

He does not have much contact with Bruce’s family, but they treat him like he is one of them. Somehow, Clark thinks, this would be easier if they did not, if at least someone would acknowledge that he is nothing but a stranger, one of Bruce’s few indulgences, just one wrong step away from being dropped and put outside with the trash.

“Well, I wouldn’t have minded having you around when I was still living here.” Jason’s grin looks real, not even a hint of sharpness beneath it, although nobody in this family could ever be described as soft. “Much fewer shouting matches.”

You should have bought your father a whore much sooner, Clark thinks but immediately scolds himself for it. Neither the children nor Alfred seem to know the reason for this arrangement. And Bruce treats him kindly, almost as if this were real.

And Clark does not only come here to warm Bruce’s bed. If he did not know any better, he would even say that Bruce values his company.

“Although your taste is questionable,” Jason continues, apparently not bothered by Clark’s silence. “You could do much better.”

And that is the thing, because in the situation he is in, Clark cannot do anything but acquiesce. He is getting a better version of Bruce than he expected, making it not hard to play along. But this, right here, is the best Clark can do while his mother’s fate is lying in Bruce’s hands.

“He’s your father,” Clark chides quietly, because what else is there to do?

Also, if he ignores the way it happened, he has little to complain about. Bruce is polite and giving and constantly concerned with Clark’s well-being. He does not think it is a façade. Not beyond the obvious.

But if it is not a façade and it is not real either, he has no idea what else it could be. Clark hates being lost. It makes him feel like he is in freefall and, for once, unable to fly. He is not naïve enough to think somebody would catch him either.

---

Clark expects kinks and pain and being uncomfortable the entire time, but Bruce is a generous lover. He never asks Clark to stay and yet always seems to be so glad when he does, almost like Clark is doing him a favour instead of not making a fuss about his duties.

None of it makes sense. Less so with every passing day.

Even with a handful of adopted children, Bruce is still regularly crowned most eligible bachelor. People are throwing themselves at him left and right. Some of them must be in it for more than just Bruce’s looks or money. There must even be someone who already knows about Batman. Someone who does not have to be coerced.

With a bit more time, Clark thinks he could have been that. Sometimes, when he lies awake in Bruce’s arms, warm and safe and satisfied, he resents that he was not given that time.

---

“Why don’t you invite your friend over to dinner?” his mother asks.

The roof has finally been retiled and Clark is thinking about repainting the living room. The question rips him out of his musings like someone dunked his head in ice water.

“My friend?” he asks, although he knows exactly who she is talking about.

Bruce is many things. His colleague and co-conspirator and lover. But they have never been given the chance to become friends.

“The one who helped with the farm,” his mother says, frowning at him. She knows exactly that he is stalling, just not why. And Clark will do everything in his power to make sure she never finds out. “I know you felt like we should have managed on our own, but who knows where we’d be without him.”

Without the farm, probably, but that does not necessarily mean they would be worse off.

“Bruce,” Clark says flatly as if he only just remembered the name. As if all of his thoughts do not circle around Bruce all the time these days – as if he does not sometimes think that is not only a bad thing.

“Exactly.” She smiles, honest and grateful and all the things she would not be if he were honest with her. “You never bring him here.”

Clark is sure his world would implode if he did. “He’s busy,” he dismisses, trying for a casual tone and failing. At least his mother might think he is merely nervous about bringing a partner home to meet her. And he is, just for all the wrong reasons. He is terrified of her liking Bruce.

“Well, you’re seeing each other all the time,” she keeps digging, knowing she always gets what she wants sooner or later. Not this time, though. “Surely it won’t be too hard to invite him sometime.”

“Mom –”

“Clark,” she says in the same tone she used when he smuggled frogs into the house as a boy. “I haven’t properly thanked him yet.”

What is there to thank Bruce for? Clark is paying their debt every day. It might not feel this way most of the time, but he is still acutely aware of the truth.

“I’ll tell him,” Clark lies. “But you shouldn’t get your hopes up. I can barely get him to sit down for dinner when he’s just a few doors down from his office.”

The very idea makes him sick, thinking about Bruce sitting at their dinner table, looking at their family pictures on the walls, sliding neatly into a spot where he does not belong. Bruce is a charmer, he would steal his mother’s affection within moments of coming into the door. And that cannot happen. Clark’s heart is not made to be broken in that way. His mother wants to see him happy, he knows, and it is too much to lie to her about that.

---

“Why didn’t you just ask?” Clark does not mean to say that out loud, but he has been thinking it often during quiet hours.

Because whatever this is, Bruce does not seem to want to rule him. He is content with them just being together and yet he lets that executioner’s axe hover over Clark’s neck.

“Ask what?” Bruce blinks at him, growing more awake. They are lying in bed together, worn out and sleepy and Clark has already decided not to go home tonight, which has too little to do with what Bruce is expecting of him and too much with how comfortable he is, here at Bruce’s side.

It would be easy to bow out, feed Bruce something inconsequential. But Clark is tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Why didn’t you just ask me to go out? Why did you have to buy me?” He has never said the word out loud and he stumbles over it.

Confusion burrows Bruce’s brow as he stares. He has gone very, very still. “Buy you?”

Clark clicks his tongue, remembering why they never talked about it. It is too cumbersome to hash out the details. “Me. The bank. Same difference.”

Understanding dawns on Bruce’s face, giving way to something far greater, far darker. Clark does not get a chance to interpret it properly because Bruce all but pushes him away, scrambling out of the bed and to his feet. He is naked but stands in a fighting position like it is second nature to him no matter what he wears.

“I didn’t buy you.” The offence in his tone is undermined by growing confusion. It sounds very believable.

“You went to quite some length to gain control over my life. I’d say that counts as buying.” Before him, Bruce’s expression grows brittle but Clark presses on. This has been weighing on his soul for way too long. “I didn’t expect you to threaten my mother, but I guess that’s all part of the game.” The words taste bitter on his tongue, still tinged with fear of the possible repercussions. “Only, you’re not even doing anything you couldn’t have gotten if you’d just asked.”

No underhanded humiliations. No kinks where superhuman regeneration abilities come in handy. No secret grievances to pay for. It almost felt real, a relationship like any other, if not for the way it started.

“You think I bought you.” Bruce sounds old, his voice is rougher than usual, almost pained. He is leaning away from Clark, even while his feet remain steady on the ground.

Clark frowns. “You did.” As much as he could be bought, chained not by strength but by concern for what he holds dear.

“And then -” Bruce clears his throat when his voice breaks. “You came into my bed because you thought I’d what?”

“Take the farm. Put my mother on the street.” Clark knows this and yet his voice lilts up, turning his words into a question.

Bruce closes his eyes, his face so raw and open as Clark has never seen it before. It looks like he is in pain, sudden and suffocating. A weight sits heavily in Clark’s stomach as he wonders, just maybe, if he got it all wrong.

“I bought the bank,” Bruce says, voice so low that Clark has to strain to hear him. “And then I forgave your mother’s loan the very moment I could. I have nothing in hand to harm you or your family.”

That is not true, a voice in Clark’s head says but even at that moment he knows it is uncharitable. Bruce would not – but –

“You’re not –”

He is cut off as Bruce starts laughing. It is a sharp-edged thing, clawing its way up from some terrible place, fed by self-loathing and doubt. “You thought I was blackmailing you into having a relationship with me? And you just agreed?”

Bruce does not mock him, the incredulity is clearly pointed at himself, drawing blood with a certainty that speaks of life-long practice. And yet, Clark feels offended. He might not be human, but he is not above emotions, above fear.

“What was I supposed to do?” Clark asks, watching as Bruce’s expression falls further, deep lines opening up where Bruce usually hides everything beneath a clear canvas.

“You’re Superman. You’re a reporter,” he says as if the latter somehow weighs more. “You know my identity, so even if you didn’t want to kill me you could have stopped me any time.” He puts out the idea of being killed as if there is nothing to it. “And you’d have been right to ruin my life because all I’ve apparently done is ruin yours.”

This is not how Clark imagined this conversation to go. He expected to be shut down immediately, to be pushed back into silence. But this? “You didn’t ruin –” he tries to say because, if anything, it seems they ruined each other.

“I raped you,” Bruce snaps, effectively cutting through Clark’s line of thoughts. “For months.”

For a long moment, all Clark can do is stare, the words sitting incomprehensible between them. His chest is hollow and yet something in there seems adamant to drag him down.

“No, Bruce. You didn’t,” he then says, his voice rough. “You never hurt me.” There was never any violence between them, no bruises, no humiliation. He never even had to hide a hickey. And yet, Bruce says the word rape with such certainty, such loathing, his judgement already made.

“You didn’t think you could say no. What else do you think that is but rape?” Bruce turns around abruptly, pressing one hand against his mouth. He looks small, like the tension in the air would be enough to smother him.

Clark knows he should say something, clear this up, but he does not know how. He is watching Bruce fall apart in front of him but all he can do is stare.

Then Bruce buries his face in his hands. “I can’t stop being Batman. I’ll do whatever else you want, but I can’t give up that. Gotham needs –” he cuts himself off, shrinks, impossibly, even further into himself. “If you insist, I’ll find someone to take over, but I’ll need some time. I’ll – you won’t have to see me ever again.”

Something is happening here, way too fast for Clark to follow. Bruce bought him, only – he did not? Because being acquainted with a billionaire apparently means that banks get bought just to help each other out.

He was so sure, though. The expectation for something lingered in Bruce’s eyes that day, and he never protested when Clark gave himself over.

“Bruce.” Clark’s mind is spinning too much to make sense of what is happening, but he cannot watch this, cannot watch Bruce damage himself beyond repair. And for what – an apology? Batman has nothing to do with this. “You forgave the loan?”

That is the easiest thing to reach for. Because Bruce did not rape him, did not harm him at all. That first night, Clark might not have come to him voluntarily, but he came willingly. He knew what he was getting into – or he thought he knew – and he still went. And it never mattered that Clark thought he could not refuse because nothing bad ever happened. A few scheduling conflicts, a few fake smiles when he was not in a good mood. But – it was a misunderstanding? Bruce never set out to control him?

Bruce is still turned away, likely as unable to look at Clark as Clark is to look away. “Of course,” he says, raw and honest.

“It’s not –” Clark breathes, then clarifies, “You don’t have to do anything. I definitely don’t want you to stop being Batman. We – I just misunderstood. But nothing happened.”

Months of uncertainty happened. Months of waiting for the punchline. Months of trying to figure out Bruce’s game only to learn that there has never been one.

“Nothing happened?” Bruce whips his head around. His eyes are wide, filled with some grief that Clark cannot even begin to decipher. “If that’s what you think then I’ll definitely make sure you won’t have to see me again.”

For some reason, that last thing stings more than the realization that all of Clark’s fears have been for nothing.

“I’m not a child, Bruce. Don’t treat me like one,” he snaps, not stopping when Bruce flinches away from him. “I might have thought that I didn’t have a choice, but you never did anything I would have said no to.”

A small voice in the back of Clark’s head asks him whether that matters. He would not have said no, not for anything as long as he thought his mother’s happiness was on the line. He pushes that thought down, unable to fully comprehend it, much less deal with it right now.

“Apart from demanding your presence and presuming your consent? I trapped you in a relationship you didn’t want.” Bruce sneers at himself, then deflates. He looks old, suddenly, hollowed out. “God, you must hate me.”

Does he? Clark wonders, even while he already says, “I don’t, aren’t you listening?” It is a painful dichotomy, this sudden anger and the stubborn incomprehension warring in his mind. “If you had asked me before you bought the bank, I would have gladly gone out with you.”

“But I didn’t ask.”

Clark has no argument for that, and while he still searches for one anyway, a sudden wall builds itself up between them.

Bruce’s composure is shattered but he still visibly draws the pieces together. Neither of them has yet reached for any clothes but he still stands as if in full armour. “You have my deepest apologies, Clark,” he says, too formal, too withdrawn, even if Clark does not doubt his sincerity. He has seen the ruin lying beneath Bruce’s mask, after all. “I know that’s not enough, but I promise you will never have to deal with me again. But, whatever you need from me, now or in the future, you will have it.”

What Clark needs is - “Bruce, stop.”

But Bruce does not listen, of course not. His eyes travel over Clark’s face as if to memorize his features and then he turns around, never looking back as he storms out of the room. Out of Clark’s life.

“Bruce.” No answer.

Clark should follow him. Bruce still has to find clothes and he does not have any super speed to aid in his flight. It would be easy and this conversation is not done. And yet, Clark finds himself remaining right where he is. In Bruce’s bed, naked but for the blanket pooling around his waist.

A misunderstanding, he thinks. Relief blossoms in his stomach but it sits there heavily, not quite releasing him. He cannot let Bruce go, not forever, but his mind is not his own right now. His skin still burns where Bruce kissed him just an hour ago and his muscles ache deeply. Soon there will not be any visible traces of their time together left and – Clark needs that. He needs to be his own person for a while.

Slowly, he gets up and puts on his clothes. He will leave town and visit his mother for a while. The living room still needs to be repainted and he is desperate to do something that makes sense.

Later, once he feels at home in his own skin again, he will go to Bruce. He can imagine the maelstrom of thoughts Bruce must battle right now. Guilt and shame and self-deprecation. Knowing him, he will not get out of this on his own but just do his best to bury it, ignoring the way it eats away at the very foundation of his being. Clark cannot let that happen, not when they have both contributed to their misery. He knows Bruce is a good person, knows he never communicates clearly. And yet he assumed the worst and gave in to it.

The living room, first, Clark thinks as he steps out into the sun, feeling its warmth as he has not done in weeks, even if his legs are not quite steady. And then the rest of their lives.

#whumptober2021 #no.5 #misunderstandings #dcu #fanfiction #consent issues #clark kent #bruce wayne #unhealthy relationship #miscommunication #talking helps #my writing #ao3

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watchtower-feed · 4 years

Text

Losing My Mind (Part 3)

SSA Main ✧ Luthor ✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧

The air moves and both Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian appear beside you.

You watch Lex’s eyes widen and turn from one alien to another. Once they’ve entered his mind, his eyes start closing. You lean down and whisper, “A courtesy, my soulmate.”

You stay close to Lex, laying his head on your lap while Miss Martian lies near you, her eyes glowing an effervescent light green and Martian Manhunter holds her hand. You panic when Lex’s brows crease and his eyelids flutter.

“It’ll be okay,” Martian Manhunater’s deep voice echoes in the near-empty dome of the lab. Everyone had been cuffed and escorted out. It’s just the four of you in the middle and Batman and Green Arrow on the side keeping watch.

“Miss Martian is the best telepath I know. She won’t hurt him.”

You purse your lips and your hand on Lex’s shoulder cups around his skin, pulling him a little closer. “How do I know his memories of the links are the only thing you’ll take?”

Martian Manhunter’s face doesn’t know how to show emotion. So he tips his head to the side. “You came to us for help because you trust us.”

“No,” you answer in reflex and blush in shame. You turn away from him to look at Lex. You want to say that you asked for their help because they’re the only ones that would help. You couldn’t even count on the Fate sisters so who else was left but the enemies of your soulmate?

When Miss Martian starts blinking and moving, Martian Manhunter gently helps her situp and the other heroes start walking toward the center. You check on Lex and find his features calm and his breathing even.

“He’ll be… asleep for a while…” Miss Martian��s voice is ragged. She grunts and takes a long breath before she speaks again. “Batman--” he’s already handing her a piece of paper and pen. She slowly scribbles down a list. After she’s done she hands it to you.

“We need to destroy all physical evidence that might trigger his memories. Can you please write down any locations that might not be there?”

“What do you mean they might not be there?” Batman asks.

Miss Martian frowns, “My powers are strong but some human minds have their own kind of strength. Especially for someone like Luthor. It was like… a filing cabinet?” she turns to Martian Manhunter, unsure, before she looks back at Batman. “Everything was well-organized and easy to find, and all in one place.”

Batman turns to you, “Like a trap.”

You glare at him and cower a little closer over Lex.

“If it is, she’s not involved,” Martian Manhunter interjects and then turns to you, “I’ve read your mind. Batman asked me to.”

Batman grunts, making Green Arrow smirk.

“This is Luthor we’re talking about, Batman. He’s probably had this as a contingency plan years ago when my unc-- I mean Martian Manhunter joined the League.”

Batman turns to you and you wait for another accusation. But he nods toward the list you forgot you’re holding. You look at it and carefully read each location. Safehouses. Lairs. Secret meeting spots. Deposit boxes. Storage containers. You’ve been to most of them but there are some missing. Locations only you would know. You write down the dorms and apartments Lex went to in college, his foster house in Metropolis, and just in case, you write down the location of the Luthor farmhouse.

“They’re not secret locations but these would be the last places Lex would go to and his enemies would expect the same.” But Lex is smarter than his enemies, you wanted to add. But you still needed their help. You still needed them to make sure Lex forgets everything.

✧ ✧ ✧

You’re standing in front of the big tree on Luthor’s farm and holding the piece of paper with a list. You’re scrunching the paper in your hand. Every location has been crossed off except this one.

Except for the ones you listed down, every single location had endless records and evidence of Lex’s research on the links. As well as copies and backups of each one.

But you’re disappointed because there’s not a single written record about you. Not a single file that acknowledged your existence. Your name wasn’t even written down on a loose piece of paper tucked haphazardly between pages or thrown in a trash bin or shredded.

Lex had erased every single trace of your existence in his life. He had been prepared to lose you completely. No. Get rid of you.

Flash taps you on the shoulder. “Looks like no one’s been here since the fire took down the farmhouse. Where to next?”

You keep your back to him but your voice breaks when you answer, “This is the last one.”

Flash quickly tenses and turns to Batman and Green Arrow for help. It’s Miss Martian who approaches you. “Y/N,” she holds your shoulders and tries to look you in the eye with a half-lidded gaze. “If you want, I could also--”

You quickly shake your head and bite your lips to keep the tears from falling.

No. You want to remember. Despite everything-- Despite the man he’s become, you still want him in your memories.

✧ ✧ ✧

You stayed in Gotham for a couple of weeks, against your will but you were ready to do anything to get Batman off your back. He wanted to keep an eye on you, to make sure this wasn’t all part of an elaborate move against the League.

While Superman continued to monitor Lex in Metropolis, you weren’t allowed anywhere near the city nor Lex. But you had no desire to be.

The Lex you saw on the news wasn’t the one you know anymore. He wasn’t the child you grew up with, the teenager you fell in love with, nor the man you devoted your life to. Because that is what you did. Your whole life has revolved around him and now he’s gone.

Finally, it’s time to start your own life. After Gotham, you move back to Star City to be with your family and be reacquainted with the life you could have had. You suddenly don’t need to keep running and hiding anymore.

Not even Batman could keep an eye in Star City 24/7. But a month later, Green Arrow stops by your house to check on you. It is his city after all.

“You can tell Batman I’m still being a good girl and to the League, thank you again for your help.”

Green Arrow laughs. “I’m not here because Batman told me to.”

You raise your eyebrow and try to suppress the smirk playing on your lips, “So you heroes just do monthly checkups on every citizen you’ve saved--”

“--and worked with,” he finishes with a gleaming smile. While Batman had intimidation going for him, Green Arrow uses his charms to lower his enemy’s guard. Lex didn’t particularly applaud the cunning in it. But he did make note of it.

So you keep your mouth closed but give him a small smile. Both of you wait a while.

When the silence suddenly gets too awkward, Green Arrow coughs, “Well I should get going then-- Oh!” he fishes out an envelope from inside his jacket and hands it to you.

It’s an invitation to Oliver Queen’s mayoral campaign tomorrow night at the Star City Plaza Hotel.

“He’s one of the good guys.”

You’re too baffled by the sudden situation that you keep staring at the invitation. “Well if he has the League backing him, he can’t lose,” you say mindlessly.

“Actually,” Green Arrow chuckles. “It’s just me… on the down-low.” Of course. If vigilantes started publicly endorsing politicians, they’d lose the people. You nod.

It takes you the whole day to decide whether or not you should go. There are still so many things you had to do to get your new life started. But that also meant that you aren’t particularly busy. Suddenly not having a life’s mission is enough to make you go to a mayoral campaign of all things.

It’s actually not so bad. Good guy or not, Oliver Queen knows how to throw parties for his people. His people being the upper class. You see a few big names show up, all smiling for the camera while they shake hands with the new potential mayor of Star City. All for show.

You find yourself spending most of the night at a table near the stairs, deflecting conversations of who you are, and who they are. Is this the life Lex wanted? To be among these kinds of people?

No, he wouldn’t. He cares less for these social gatherings than politics itself. You snicker silently as you think about how Lex would show up only if he had to be on stage and then leave the rest of the night to his secretary.

You’re picturing this in your head that you almost don’t get surprised to see him across the room shaking hands with a stiff Oliver Queen. But then you remember you’re no longer linked and he’s no longer your soulmate. So why is he suddenly here?

He catches you staring at him. You watch him turn back to Oliver Queen and mindlessly excuses himself but the mayoral candidate holds Lex’s hand in his grip and seems unwilling to let his company go.

You quickly take this opportunity to slip away and blend into a small crowd headed down the stairs toward the lobby. You wait until they reach the bottom steps before you break off toward a deserted hallway. You lean against the wall and try to catch your breath. If written words on a piece paper could potentially unravel everything Miss Martian erased, then you had to get out of here.

“Leaving so soon?”

It’s as if destiny still has strings on you.

You turn around. Slowly. You try to smile. You try to keep your feet planted on the floor and your hands behind you. “Not really my scene.”

Lex raises his eyebrow and places his hands in his pockets. “So you’re here for work then. Star City Sentinel?” he asks, “or Gotham Gazette?”

He thinks you’re a reporter but that’s not right. He’s not one to seek reporters. He runs away from them.

“Uhh, no,” you answer. “I’m-- filling in for a friend.”

“A friend, huh?” He raises his eyebrows in amusement. “Anyone, I know?”

You suddenly don’t like this. You don’t know what this Luthor is thinking. You narrow your eyes at him and push yourself off the wall, about to walk off. “Probably not. I don’t even know who you are.”

He laughs, “Really, Y/N?” It makes you stop. “Was that the best you’ve got? Everyone on this planet with access to TV and the internet knows who I am. I thought you might have been able to play this little game a while longer.”

You turn to him then, standing too close and within his reach. Your eyes are wide and he stares back at you with a calm exterior.

"Did you really think it would be so easy?"

You couldn’t move. Your words come out like a whisper with only disbelief pushing them out. "H-how?"

He hums. "You're not the only one who's employed a mindreader.”

His hand reaches out to hold yours. He turns it around in his hold, seeing and feeling your skin touching his. Then he squeezes it. He points his head to the exit and you follow him while he brushes his thumb on the back of your hand. At this point, you’ll follow him to the ends of the earth.

You almost hear Oliver Queen yelling after you as you get in the passenger seat of the town car. Almost.

Lex drives and there’s only silence inside. Your hands are on your lap and they’re shaking. Now that you’ve had time to think, you don’t know what to think. “Lex,” you mutter, “Please. Explain what’s happening.” You slowly turn to him but he keeps his eyes on the road. “If you remember, then why-- why aren’t you angry?”

Lex finally turns to you. He can’t help the smirk that lifts the corners of his lips and the mischief curling his eyebrows down. “Aren’t I?”

You don’t reply to him. Your eyes hold his gaze until the playfulness finally disappears from his features. He briefly closes his eyes and sighs.

“I knew our memories would be erased once we meet,” he starts and you hold your breath, “And when I succeed in taking control of the memory link, any lingering feelings would've been obliterated as well.”

Your lips quiver as you listen and your words come out a whisper, “Isn’t that what you wanted--”

“But I found,” he interrupts, “Over the years, I found that there was one memory I couldn’t forget."

Your eyes widen because it suddenly feels as if time had stopped.

"Which... which one?"

He suddenly smiles sheepishly and his voice goes lower, "The ceasefire."

You remember it so clearly. The rarest of days when Lex suddenly appeared in front of you, distraught, angry, annoyed, and just as surprised to see you as he was to find himself under a big tree, on a hill, in an orchard in Florence.

"Where am I?"

At first, you pondered about ignoring him but then you realized that would make him harder to tolerate and you don’t know how long he’s going to be staying.

"Italy," you answered nonchalantly.

He whipped his head around, as if not taking your word for it. Then he turned to you and raised one of his eyebrows, "What are you--"

"I needed a break,” you interrupted. You stretched your arms and then sat down on the blanket you had just laid before Lex arrived. “I found out a while ago that immersing myself in a familiar environment keeps me from wandering into your memories."

This happened during the third year of your decades-long game of cat and mouse. You were still testing out the possibilities and limitations of the links. But Lex, at the time, was still rejecting it completely.

You watched him close his eyes and you can tell he was willing himself to disappear. But to no success. "Ugh!"

You snickered. "You look like you could use a break, too. Tough day at the evil lair?" you teased but he doesn’t turn to you. He rubbed his palms down his face in aggravation. You rolled your eyes at him, "Since you're stuck here, we might as well be civil."

"You could walk away," he snapped at you with a fake smile.

"No way! I was here first!” You sounded like a child and Lex almost laughed. Instead, he managed to contain it to a small smirk but it was enough to embarrass you. “Whatever,” you grumbled and leaned back with your arms supporting you. “I'm not leaving this spot."

Lex scowled and rolled his eyes. He tried to look for the nearest town or guesthouse. But there were only acres of trees on the horizon. He grimaced because it reminded him of the farm. "What's so special about it?"

You were surprised to hear his questions. Was he actually trying to be civil? You tried your best not to sneak a look at him and kept your gaze up.

"It's nice to see the light trying to pass through the leaves. When the wind comes, the leaves and branches rustle so the specs of light look like they're dancing."

Lex was looking at you while you talked and he saw them dance on the contours of your face, making you smile. Again, it reminded him of the farm.

He finally sighed and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He draped it over your shoulders and then lied down on the blanket with his head resting on your lap. He felt you tense up.

"I need a break,” he declared with his eyes closed.

Slowly, your body relaxed and you sat up so your fingers could run through his hair.

�� "Is this an intermission?" you tease softly.

"Hmm,” he frowns. “Call it a ceasefire. Your vocabulary hasn't gotten any better. You must be wasting your time in college instead of studying."

You glared at him. But then you saw the small smirk that played on his lips and it reminds you of his room in Metropolis.

You leaned down to hover above his head. Your shadow forced him to open his eyes and look at you.

"I miss you, Lex."

A strong gust of wind swayed the leaves to reach for the sky, and the light was dancing wildly behind your head. Without thinking, Lex's hand reached up to pull you down for your lips to be reunited.

The two of you have been quiet for a long time. You’ve been wringing your wrist with your fingers trying to figure what to say next. But Lex knows it has to be him that speaks first.

“I believed destiny made a mistake linking you to me.”

It’s not what you expect and your heart hurts a little to hear it. But you’ve always known that.

“Then,” he pauses. His mouth closes and opens a few times before he could finally continue. “You proved me wrong.”

Your hands stop.

“While I cowered away and tried to ignore our link--”

You look at him to make sure he’s not lying to you.

Lex is staring straight at the road but there’s a hint of excitement in his eyes. “You adapted!” he said proudly, almost breathless. “You lived in my memories for days at a time and fit into the background as if you were actually there.”

He turns to you suddenly, eyes wide and mouth grinning, “For god’s sakes, Y/N, you found out Batman’s link and planted the information in my head, making me believe I was the one who discovered it.” He scoffs, “And then had me ask Scarecrow create a fear toxin that only worked in his dreams. Tell me-- Why?”

His excitement is contagious. You found yourself leaning a little closer and wanting to tell him everything. “I knew it would make his soulmate visit the black market for blockers. I needed her to get the League’s help.” He laughs. “How-- how did you know I planted the information?”

“I found out when we finally met. When the link cleared my head of memories of you.”

Your own excitement takes a sudden dip. What you did was wrong. You knew it was before you even started it. But Lex had been making more progress in his plans and you were still figuring out how to get the League to trust you.

It was pure coincidence that you found Batman’s link as if destiny has been pushing you down this road the whole time. It was your roommate’s sister. She visited and you overheard them talking about the links. She was talking about her neighbor in Central City who had the strangest sleeping schedule and often called out Bruce Wayne’s name in her sleep. “Imagine having a subconscious link with Bruce Wayne? I’d die every night catching him with a different supermodel in a wet dream.”

You knew who Bruce Wayne was. Having existed in Lex’s memories, you knew the identity of every single hero and villain, even in other galaxies. Truly, something was helping you pave the path to your success.

Lex reaches out to hold your hand, stealing you from your thoughts. His voice comes softer now but you could still hear the mirth in it, “You uncovered my plans and used it against me. Erasing my memories and planting fake ones about a happy childhood where my parents lived until I finished college-- Only you would've come up with something twisted and wrapped it in a bow.”

You suddenly have the urge to pull your hand back. Instead, you pinch him. He flinches but keeps smiling.

"I was impressed. The things you could do. The lengths you went through--"

"For you," you answer in a whisper. You squeeze his hand and you speak a little louder. "It was all for you."

His smile softens and there’s no longer excitement or mirth there. Just affection. "Yes. For me."

He lifts your hand to his lips and kisses it. "Forgive me, Y/N. Perhaps destiny has truly blessed me."

END.

✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#lex luthor #lex lutho/reader #lex luthor x reader #soulmate au #ssa #superhero soulmate au #DC fanfiction #lex luthor fanfiction #DC imagines #watchtower-feed #atbucud

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fantasticstoryteller · 3 years

Text

Human Heart

This particular hallway of the League Satellite was kept dark. The dim lighting deterred most escape attempts, as most humans—even those with powers—felt a peculiar vulnerability in the darkness. Not so with the most recent—visitor.

Kal-el frowned as he made his way down the corridor, his eyes easily seeing through the darkness. There were many things that did not add up about the new visitor to this section. Many things that just weren’t right.

After the split, when Batman had gone on the run, they’d had few leads. Every single time he or one of his allies got to where Batman had been the masked crusader was gone. Rumors flew and disrupted the peace that Kal-el had fought so hard to establish amongst the masses. The whole thing was a mess of subterfuge, sabotage, and rumors.

Then, suddenly, they found him. They managed to track down a scientist who claimed he was going to summon a savior from the evil Superman.

Kal-el mentally snorted. Evil Superman. As though those he’d destroyed had deserved pity.

He’d done something though. His machine had opened a portal to—somewhere—and out came Batman. Or rather Bruce Wayne. Because although the man was in the suit, his helmet was off. Batman never took his helmet off when there were people around, but this man didn’t seem to think much of it.

And then there was what happened when they’d grabbed him. He didn’t fight, yell, or try to run away. He just hung there limply and did what he was told, like he was broken.

Kal-el had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, a broken Bat was not a problem. A broken Bat was not going to be sowing seeds of dissent or trying to organize a rebellion.

On the other, the two of them had been friends, at the very least. He didn’t want to see his friend in trouble, or sad. But this could not keep on like it had been.

He stopped in front of the cell that Batman was locked in. The costumed hero was slumped over, arms resting on his legs as he stared despondently at the floor in front of him. His eyes, from what Kal-el could see, were shadowed and there were thin lines of pain around the stubborn mouth. “Hi Clark,” he said, without looking up. “Is this my intervention?”

Kal-el was not prepared for the stab of emotion from the sound of his former name. He could remember far more intimate times when that name was spoken—times it had been spoken with a smile, a laugh, or a pleasant gasp. He almost couldn't focus on the question: intervention? What was Batman talking about?

No, Kal-el decided as he looked at the shaggy head in front of him. This wasn’t Batman—this was Bruce. And Bruce, who had always been sure to be perfectly meticulous in how he appeared to other people was unkempt. His hair was a little too long, and ragged as though bits had been hacked off. There was a subtle line of stubble on his face, where he hadn’t shaved. The suit too, the suit was wrinkled and had spots that, in any other color, would have been stains.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Clark, Kal-el asked.

Bruce rubbed his face with a hand. “I was in the lab,” he said wearily, “with my latest unhealthy coping mechanism and a portal opened, sucking me through. Then you came.”

Coping mechanism. For what? Clark kept his voice even and his tone as level as possible as he spoke. “You were abducted from your world.” Bruce looked up and there was the oddest glimmer in his eyes, almost like hope. “We’re looking into a way to send you back,” Clark added.

The hope died and Bruce slumped over again. “Kay,” he said wearily.

“Try to get some sleep Bruce,” Clark said kindly. “I’ll be back soon.” He turned and headed to the bridge, knowing that Diana had been recording everything.

Diana leaned against the console as little Damian, abandoned by his true father, worked the controls. The controls and his expression; Clark recognized the carefully blank expression from when the boy was first brought to the satellite, and his heart twisted. The boy shouldn't have to deal with this on top of having his own father reject him.

“Do you think it’s true?” Diana asked coldly. Once, the three of them had been friends. Now she hated Bruce almost as much as he hated them.

“I believe that scientist was trying to summon another Batman to help the one that’s here overthrow us.” At the controls Damian twitched and Clark gently laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. No matter what the boy’s father said or did, Damian would have a place in the satellite as long as he wished to.

Diana snorted. “This one seems to be broken,” she said, echoing Clark—no, Kal-el’s own observation with vicious satisfaction. Then again—Diana had reason to hate Batman. To hate Bruce.

“He does.” Clark turned to the feed, trained on the cell where Bruce still sat, in that same defeated slump. The sight stirred something in him, something he’d thought had died. “I’ll see if I can find out what happened later.”

“The Russian Prime Minister has sent a message inquiring if you would be up to a press conference, to dictate the changes you have demanded they make in their educational system,” Damian said calmly as he brought up the coordinates of the proposed site on the screen.

Clark couldn't help but notice that the image of Bruce had merely been shrunk to a small corner of the large screen. He did not bring attention to it. “Does he?” he asked mildly. “If only all the countries were that accommodating.”

“On another note, LexCorp have requested—politely this time—that you grace a small service with a eulogy.”

Diana smirked at the screen. Kal-el couldn't help but note that her eyes were not on the information that Damian was bringing up, but on the small image of the captured and broken Bruce in the corner. “Are you going to do it?” she asked.

Was he? At one time, he and Lex had been friends. Best friends, in spite of the fact that Clark had been a poor farm boy and Lex had been the heir to one of the most powerful corporations on the planet. Even now, after all this time, he wasn’t certain where the relationship had soured. Why Lex had become his enemy. And sometimes, even though he would never admit it to either Diana or Damian, he wondered if there had been another way to end that conflict.

“Perhaps. Does the Russian Prime Minister have a time for that press conference?” asked Kal-el.

Damian, ever the perfect worker, called the information back up for Kal-el despite the frequent glances at their captured Bruce. “He would like to set it up at your earliest convenience,” Damian said primly.

Kal-el nodded. According to their global clock, Russia was in its early morning. “Contact him back and schedule a meeting in three hours from now. And Damian.” The boy twisted in his seat looking at Kal-el for the first time since Kal-el had entered the room. He softened his voice to the young one. “You will always have a place here,” he said gently.

Damian bit his lip and nodded and Kal-el looked at Diana. “Keep an eye on things?” he asked her.

She grimaced. “Don’t ask me to talk to him,” she said grimly.

His lips turned up in a smile. “I’m asking you not to kill him,” he said gently before he turned and left. He had a press conference, after all.

***

Kal-el took a chair with him for his next visit. He didn’t think he’d get the answers he needed from Broken Bruce if he was looming over the man. He set the chair up in front of the cell and carefully settled into it. Broken Bruce did not look like he had moved. Kal-el wondered if the man had even slept.

If it had been the Batman here, Kal-el knew the man wouldn't have slept because he would have been too wary. Too busy looking around; looking for a way to escape. Never mind there was no way to escape the satellite now.

This Bruce, Broken Bruce, looked as if he hadn’t slept because to lay the body down for sleep would require moving. “You don’t look like you’ve gotten any sleep,” Kal-el pointed out. He didn’t mean to—but he always had trouble reigning in his tongue when talking to Bruce.

Broken Bruce’s eyes fluttered slightly. “I can’t stand the images in my brain,” he confessed. “When I close my eyes, they’re all I see.”

What? What was Broken Bruce seeing? What had happened to his poor friend?

There would be time for that later. Diana had, rightfully, told Kal-el that he needed to explain to Broken Bruce why he was in a cell. According to her and Damian, Broken Bruce wasn’t eating, wasn’t drinking, and would soon collapse in an unrecoverable state. As much as they disliked their own Bruce at the moment, there was something that struck all of them as wrong watching this one die. After all, this wasn’t the Bruce that had attacked them, rejected them, and was trying to destroy them.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Kal-el said after a moment, “that you’re in a prison cell.”

“No,” said Bruce, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Another hint that this was Bruce and not the Bat; Bruce had no problem showing any kind of emotion, but the Bat was always stoic. “It got by me.”

Clark ignored the sarcasm. “There’s a reason for it,” he said earnestly, willing this Bruce to listen. “Our Batman…went insane.” Broken Bruce looked up and he continued, “He’s attacked all of us, and tried to kill all of us.”

“What,” Broken Bruce was clearly in shock. “But that’s—why?”

Something about that plaintive cry cracked Kal-el back into Clark. “I don’t know,” he admitted, hanging his own head. Both and Bruce had agreed that something needed to be done about Lex. The man had gone insane, was destroying lives, and had even turned his sights upon the League itself. They hadn’t even realized they had an enemy until after several of them had already perished. Green Lantern. Green Arrow. Flash. And Lex would. Not. Stop. There had been no choice, and Bruce’s betrayal afterwards had stung far deeper than he’d wanted to admit. Clark cleared his throat before continuing. “I was all right, well, I usually am. Diana had a close call though—”

Broken Bruce’s eyes snapped fully open and he stared at Clark before blurting, “Diana’s alive?!”

Clark looked up in his own surprise. “Yes,” he said uncertainly. “Isn’t she where you’re from?”

For the first time Broken Bruce sits up. He leans back against the thin cot to where he’s leaning against the wall. Clark can’t help but take this as a good sign. “No,” said Bruce, his voice hoarse and sad. “She’s not.”

“What happened?”

Bruce gave a harsh, dry chuckle. “I’m not sure. We didn’t eve know anything was wrong, at first. One day Oliver missed to check in, but you know Arrow. He’s a little…” Bruce’s voice trailed off.

Bruce never did like criticizing the others, even when it came to helping them train. “Flighty?” suggested Clark.

A harsh bark of a chuckle. “Flighty. As good of a term as any. Next to miss check in was Hal, but we all thought that he’d been contacted on a Lantern thing.” Bruce grimaced. “They don’t really like the League much.”

“And if they don’t have to deal with us they don’t,” Clark finished. A part of him ached. It felt so good to be talking to Bruce again, even though he was seeing the beginning of what he’d managed to stop here, in this world.

Bruce sighed and rubbed his face again. “We didn’t know anything was wrong,” he repeated. “We thought—God, it seems stupid by now, but we thought we would know if something bad had happened to them.” Another broken laugh. “We were so stupid. We thought that just because Hal and Oliver are famous we’d know.”

Clark couldn't quite breathe. It was almost just like what had happened here, what he’d managed to stop. His heart reached out to Bruce, to the man who was so protective of his teammates that he filled in as a father for many of them. Scolding both Hal and Oliver for acting impulsively, teaching Barry and the others fighting techniques in addition to their powers. Listening as Clark himself rambled about all the things he couldn't do, the people that, even with all his power, he hadn’t been able to save.

“Then Barry missed check in, and we knew something was wrong.”

Of course they did. Barry was fast talking and fast moving, always had a smart quip for the situation—but he was also meticulous. He, more than any of the others, understood the point of check in. Barry missing check in had been when Clark had first noticed something was wrong as well—and shortly before they found the bodies.

Broken Bruce’s eyes closed and he looked—haunted, haggard. Clark wanted to reassure the man, but wasn’t sure how. “I’m still not certain what happened,” he said sadly. “One day the people just—turned on us. We went from being heroes and protectors to villains and forces of destruction. It got so bad that you—well, my world’s you—made the world an offer. All the heroes would retire to the satellite and would just—leave. They’d never have to see us again.”

Clark’s heart sunk as he wondered just how bad things had been for him to make that offer. He believed that everyone could be helped, that situations like that were only a matter of waiting it out. What had happened?

He didn’t ask, and Broken Bruce didn’t answer. “The world accepted it. I thought—I thought that the world only didn’t want super heroes, that those of us without power would be safe.” His head dropped again. “I was wrong,” he admitted.

Had Clark ever heard Batman or Bruce admit being wrong before? He knew, they all knew, that the Bat and his alter ego were fallible, but it was one thing to know it and quite another to admit it. Just another sign of how this Bruce was broken. Another sign of how this Bruce had been failed.

“It started with someone leaking Barbara’s identity.” Bruce sighed. “I don’t even know how they found it,” he admitted. “I never found out how. And Barbara’s not even in the game anymore! She was still in rehab after—after what the Joker did to her.”

This Clark knew. “The Joker is a madman Bruce,” he said as kindly as he could. “You can’t predict what a madman will do.”

“I should have been able to,” Bruce said wearily. “I should have stopped it, I should have gotten there—I should have found out someone was embezzling my funds to Arkham long before this!” Bruce snarled.

“I’m sorry Bruce,” Clark said as gently as he could.

Broken Bruce looked up, looked back down, and tucked his head under the shelter of his hands before he continued. “Alfred was taking Barbara to her rehabilitation appointment. It didn’t look odd, you know, for Wayne to fund her recovery since her dad and I were so close.” Bruce’s eyes stared out from the shade provided from his hands and looked positively haunted. “The mob closed in on them. They literally ripped her out of the wheelchair and apart. Alfred he—he tried to save her, but…” Bruce’s voice trailed off.

Alfred had raised Bruce. The man was like a father, mother, and protector all in one. The only person that both Bruce and Batman looked at with nothing less than respect. Clark could only imagine how horrific it had been for Bruce learning how Alfred had died.

“I got the boys up to the satellite,” Bruce said. “I couldn't—I couldn't wait for them. I got all of them, Jason, Tim, and Damian up there.” A wry smile twisted Bruce’s face. “Damian didn’t want to go. He thought it made him look weak to run—but he needed to be safe.” Another, broken laugh escaped Broken Bruce. “I should have known better,” the man admitted as tears fell down his cheeks. “I would have been with them, would have made sure they stayed on the damn satellite, but there was Diana.”

Another reference. “What happened, Bruce?” Clark asked gently.

The tears hadn’t stopped. “The only reason Diana didn’t evacuate like the other super heroes were was because she was pregnant and no one knew what traveling through the atmosphere would do to the baby. The boys—they said they’d look after her. They were on a farm.” Broken Bruce met Clark’s eyes. “I surrounded that farm with alarms. I made sure they had any weapons they might need and that they couldn't do as I’d taught them and be non-lethal. It wasn’t an option anymore. And if it was just Tim and Jason I never would have allowed them to stay with Diana because while I know—knew—that Diana can kill if she needs to I also knew they can’t. But—but Damian was there.” Bruce let out a choked sob as tears streaked down his face. “When Damian first came to live with me I had to teach him not to kill. How to hold back. To see the criminal as a person—and he still had problems. I though they’d be all right.”

Bruce’s head dropped again, tears still streaming down his face. He didn’t react to them, and Clark was almost certain that he’d been crying so much that now he just didn’t notice. He didn’t want to watch Broken Bruce hurt anymore, but he had to know what happened. “They weren’t?” he asked softly, gently.

“I had to go back to Gotham. Wayne Industries employs millions of people, and I needed to make sure that they wouldn't be hurt when I left with my family. One day, during a board meeting I got an alert. I got out there as fast as I could, but—it was too late. I don’t know how it happened, or what force they had to deal with, but when I reached the cabin—I found what was left of Jason. Tim’s lifeless body was in the barn, where the car had been hidden. I think he tried to give them time to get away…the car was in flames. Diana and Damian were—” A sob choked Broken Bruce and he curled up on himself.

This Bruce had lost everybody. His entire family. Clark had never really been certain what the relationship between Bruce and Diana was—sometimes they squabbled like siblings and sometimes it looked like they were a hair’s breadth away from jumping into bed together—but they were still family. And Barbara, Batwoman, had been one of the children Bruce was fondest of. Learning what had happened,what the Joker had done had almost destroyed his Bruce. Native Bruce.

An idea struck Clark with more force than a sledgehammer. He turned it over in his mind. Was it a good idea? For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure. He’d have to ask for another opinion.

***

“Are you out of your mind?” demanded Diana coldly. She glared at Clark as her hands balled into fists by her sides.

“He’s not the Bruce that hurt you, Diana,” said Clark gently.

“So what?” demanded the warrior, eyes flashing dangerously. “This Bruce might not be the one who held the knife, but they’re all the same!”

“I don’t think they are,” Clark argued, staying just as gentle.

“Don’t take that tone with me Kal-el,” said Diana, her eyes narrowing in anger. “You know what he did.”

“Not this one,” Clark insisted. He turned to the other member. “What do you think, Damian?”

Only the slightest of tremors gave away the boy’s inner turmoil as he spoke. “I think that the satellite is a self-contained vessel and we will find out nothing of this—this new Batman’s plans if we do not allow him the ability to roam.”

Damian turned and looked at Diana. “And if he is roaming and does something, you can easily kill him. He’s only human.”

Diana looked thoughtful. Clark knew that what was changing her mind was the idea that she might be able to kill the man who had hurt her—even if it wasn’t the same man. “Very well,” she said tersely. “But don’t expect me to be nice just because of a sob story,” she added.

***

Despite his best efforts, Bruce’s eyes drifted closed. He could feel sleep starting to ambush him, the familiar hum of the machinery around him lulling him off. His body relaxed.

Fire danced inside his eyelids. Three sources for the fire. The car, huge and blistering. The larger body in front of it, as though it had been thrown through the windshield, flames leaping towards the safe haven of the heavens. The tiny body to the side, as though it had been thrown from the car in a futile effort to save it. The fires burning brightly, the light searing the inside of his eyes as the thick, black smoke choked the air. Burning, burning, burning—

Bruce sat up with a gasp of cool air that tasted of nothing more than the recycled air of the satellite. He was safe. Ironically, he was safe. He didn’t believe that any harm would come to him here.

“Are you all right?”

Bruce opened his eyes and met Clark’s own impossibly bright blue ones. The Kryptonian looked worried, a reaction that Bruce wasn’t use to seeing, not after their last fight.

“Forget about the humans, Bruce. They don’t want any of us anymore and we will leave!”

But then, Clark had had reason to be angry. Especially after what had happened to his son…

The clang of the cell door unlocking knocked Bruce from his thoughts. The door opened. For some reason Bruce hadn’t thought it would. “Come on, Bruce,” Clark said kindly, warmly.

Uncertain, Bruce got to his feet. “What’s going on?” he asked warily as he walked out of the cell. He paused at the threshold. Did he have the courage to leave? He knew he was safe in the cell, left alone with his—memories…

“We’ve agreed that since you’re not the Bruce that keeps trying to hurt us, that we’re going to let you roam the satellite for a bit. Get some exercise. Maybe find a place you can actually get some sleep.”

Sleep was the realm of nightmares. “I’m good,” he said firmly as he stepped outside the cell. A shudder ran through him and he wondered why he’d thought of the place as a safe haven. Maybe it was because a cell was exactly what he deserved for failing everyone. He wasn’t sure.

“Humans can’t survive without sleep, Bruce,” Clark said.

Bruce couldn't stop the low chuckle. He’d once said that to Clark, back when he’d thought the Kryptonian was nothing more than another reporter. “One of us learned,” he said wryly.

“More than we wanted to,” Clark said softly. He reached out and offered his hand to Bruce.

Once upon a time, Bruce would have ignored it.

Once upon a time, Bruce would have simply continued on his way.

Once upon a time, he hadn’t watched his friends and family die, one by one.

Bruce slipped his hand in Clark’s outstretched one and smiled gently at the look of joy on Clark’s face before Clark tugged him towards the center of the satellite. The cores were easier to temperature control than the exterior, and Clark took Bruce to the hydroponic section. Plants were growing. On one of the trellises was the common lima bean plant. The little plant would grow into any cracks in the side of a building, spread its leaves and held on through the late frosts of spring and still produced food. Bruce loved the plant.

Couldn’t stand the beans though, much to Alfred’s dismay.

“So you decided to show him our food supply?” demanded a harsh voice. A familiar voice. One he hadn’t expected to hear again. He whirled to see Diana. The bone deep relief he felt at the sight of her, whole and healthy, was broken as she continued to speak. “After all he’s done?” She turned her fierce glare towards him. “We’re watching you, Bat,” she spat at him. Then she whirled and stomped off before Bruce had a chance to react.

“Sorry,” Clark said. He rubbed the back of his neck, much the same way he had when the two of them had first met as reporter and playboy. “She’s—well, our Bruce hurt her, you see.”

“Oh.” Bruce sighed. “I’m glad she’s taking it easy on me,” he added.

“Oh?”

Bruce shrugged. “I’m not bleeding,” he pointed out. “Or dying. Diana can easily make both happen. I think we both know that I’m not—at my best right now.”

Clark shook his head, the cowlick flopping against his forehead. “You still have a talent for understatement. Let’s go to the bridge.” This time Clark didn’t hold his hand out for Bruce.

Bruce tried not to let it bother him. He was well known for his dislike of physical affection unless he was playing the part of the playboy—but it had been a long time since he’d touched someone. Clark was just trying to be considerate, Bruce knew. Still, he felt a little lost as he followed the Kryptonian through the satellite to the bridge.

The layout of the satellite was almost exactly the same as in his world. The only difference he could see was that the entry doors were situated a little to the left of center, instead of being exactly in the middle. The other thing was that it was so—empty. “Where is everyone?” Bruce asked as he followed Clark.

“We had some—issues,” Clark said carefully. “When our Bruce, Native Bruce, turned on us he—there aren’t very many of us left.”

That was horrifying. This world’s Bruce had killed his friends, killed the rest of the league? How made was he? Didn’t he see what he had, what he was destroying?

Bruce was occupied by his thoughts until they reached the bridge of the satellite. Clark suddenly stopped and Bruce almost ran into the Kryptonian. Then, Clark took a single step to the side and Bruce stared.

Bruce saw Damian, primly assuring him that he was the best to guard Diana.

Bruce saw Damian, nothing more than the fuel to light a macabre fire.

Bruce saw Damian, alive—whole and healthy, just like Diana.

He didn’t even notice the tears streaming down his face until he’d pulled the boy into his arms. The warm boy. The solid boy.

It wasn’t a dream. “You’re alive,” he breathed. He could feel the softness of Damian’s hair, smell that odd desert-like scent that the boy never seemed to shed, feel the tenseness of the muscles beneath him.

Damian let out a choked sob and hugged him back.

***

Bruce wasn’t actually aware of how much time had passed. Diana still glared at him when she saw him, but that was understandable. He was having trouble not hating this world’s version of himself. How could the man have so brutally hurt his own son? Didn’t he understand what a treasure the intelligent boy was?

Another, smaller part of him wondered—what if? What if they managed to make a device to send him back (something Diana assured him was still being worked on), only instead of sending him back they sent back Native Bruce? Surely the brutal monster would have no trouble fitting in with the people who’d ripped a helpless woman out of her wheelchair and torn her to pieces. Maybe Native Bruce would even learn to appreciate what he had, once he didn’t have it any more.

Preoccupied with his thoughts, he almost ran into Diana. The woman was pale, sweating, and gripping the junction between two parts of the hallway. “Are you all right?” he demanded, concerned.

She smacked his hand away. “Don’t,” she gasped, “touch—me.”

She still saw Native Bruce when she looked at him. He could understand that. “Do you want me to call Clark? Or Damian?” he asked.

“NO!” The woman’s shout echoed painfully down the hall. Her grip loosened and she slid slightly.

He knew these symptoms. He’d seen them before Diana was pregnant—and she was afraid of Bruce. “Come on,” Bruce said as he gently grabbed one of her arms and draped it over himself. “There are some crackers in the kitchen. You’ll feel better once you eat something.” She didn’t protest and he helped her to the kitchen where he got her a pack of crackers and then made her a cup of tea.

She didn’t speak again until she smelled the scent of the peppermint tea he’d made. She pinned him with a look. “You know,” she said grimly. Her hands twitched, as though she was thinking of reaching for her weapons.

“I guessed,” he said gently. He could see why she wouldn’t want him to know, all things considered. “Does Clark know?”

She took a sip of her tea and grimaced. She never did like tea, he recalled. “I haven’t told him.”

“Is it…” Bruce trailed off, not knowing if he wanted to finish the sentence.

“No.” Diana’s face fell, host to an incurable internal sadness. Bruce was more than familiar with that feeling; he’d been suffering from it himself. “No it was—someone else.” Her eyes closed. “He’s not here, anymore.”

“I’m sorry.” The words, as always, were inadequate. They hadn’t helped Gordon; they hadn’t helped him. They weren’t helping Diana. But they were all he knew to say. There weren’t classes on how to deal with someone's grief—either his or other people’s.

“It is what it is,” she said sadly.

“Does Clark know?” asked Bruce, hunting desperately for another topic. She was already looking better, and he knew that the tea was helping. Of course, having been there the first time, he had known it would.

Diana snorted. “Of course Clark doesn’t know. He has far too much to do.” She met his eyes with a wry smile. “He’s ruling a globe now, you know.”

Bruce did know. He had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand he believed that no one that powerful should ever have sole control over so many people because there was no way to challenge that power. There was no check, no balance to it.

On the other hand, he’d seen what happened when someone like Clark wasn’t in charge.

“He always has time for his friends,” Bruce argued. “And you won’t be able to hide it forever.”

“No.” Diana took a sip of tea. “This is nice,” she said, surprising him. “I’ve—missed talking like this.”

Bruce smiled wearily. “I’ve missed you too, Diana.”

***

Bruce was in the middle of an exercise session with Damian when Clark found him. Bruce noticed him immediately; Damian did not. Bruce had mixed feelings about that; on the one hand he wanted Damian to always be alert and aware of his surroundings so that what happened to his Damian could never happen to this one, and on the other hand—on the other hand he wanted Damian to be able to be a child. Children weren’t supposed to need perfect awareness of their surroundings all the time.

At the end of the workout the two of them bowed to each other and Bruce gently clapped the boy on the shoulder. “Good job,” he said approvingly. There was a brief moment of joy on the boy’s face before the mask of icy indifference slid back into place.

“Thank you,” Damian said curtly. He turned and only the slightest tensing of his body betrayed that he was surprised to see Clark there. He nodded and continued to the shower room.

Clark smiled. “I’m glad to see the two of you bonding,” he said calmly.

Bruce smiled back. After a few months he’d mostly lost that haunted feeling. Part of him still wondered if he was in a dream, a hallucination created by his mind to cope with his grief. The rest of him didn’t care. Damian and Diana were alive. And Clark was here.

Bruce noticed that Clark looked conflicted. It wasn’t an expression he wore very well. “What is it?” he asked.

Clark cleared his throat. “Diana has informed me that we will be needing—supplies,” he said.

Bruce smiled. So Diana had finally taken his advice. Well, she might have just pretended to, as she would be showing soon. “Sounds about right,” he said calmly.

“You already knew,” Clark accused.

Bruce shrugged as he grabbed a towel for his own sweat. “I’ve seen it before,” he gently reminded the Kryptonian. “I knew.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?” Clark asked, sounding lost.

Bruce could understand. Clark and Diana were like siblings, and it was hard to realize that the man whom your sibling had once hated knew such an intimate detail before he did. “She didn’t want to worry you,” Bruce explained as he rested the towel against the back of his neck. “She thought it would be a distraction, and you have a lot on your plate already.”

Clark nodded. He knew that Bruce knew he’d taken over the running of the world, but the two of them—in typical fashion—said nothing about it. They didn’t talk about how it made Bruce feel; they didn’t talk about Clark had felt the need to do so. It was probably unhealthy of them, but they were still finding their feet together. Perhaps they’d communicate later.

Clark sighed. “I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to,” he said. “But—would you?”

Bruce smiled. He knew exactly what Clark was asking. “Can I?” he asked. “I feel pretty certain that, ah, I don’t have the same qualifications I used to.” Which was a funny way of saying that the Bruce Wayne from this world was a wanted criminal and outlaw.

“It’ll be fine,” said Clark, relief stark on his features. “I don’t—I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Bruce commented dryly. He walked over to Clark until the two of them were right next to each other. He smiled. “We’ll figure it out,” he assured the Kryptonian.

Clark smiled back. “We will,” he promised fervently.

***

Bruce had been having a great time, despite being cornered by an old woman telling him all about her seven grandchildren and lecturing him on the importance of making sure his “wife” felt pretty while she was bloated like a whale and to remember that it was his fault she’d lost her trim figure. He’d forgotten that shopping could be fun; there was a reason he wore the playboy persona so well. After she wound down he said he’d take her advice (no point in telling her that he wasn’t the child’s father) and purchased several of the items in her shop.

In this world the League had a credit card. Who knew? It was a good idea though. Oh, there were some corn seedlings. Clark might like those; Bruce knew he missed his parents’ farm.

He was heading towards the stall with the seedlings when he was grabbed from behind. A quick jerk and whirl and he faced—himself. The two Bruces stared at each other.

Someone dropped something and the spell was broken. Native Bruce attacked and Bruce fended him off. The two of them, by mutual accord, took their fight off the crowded street and up to a nearby rooftop. “You don’t even know what he’s done,” sneered Native Bruce.

“I know,” said Bruce.

“Oh?” The two of them circled each other. “Did he tell you how he broke into Lex’s office? How he used his laser vision to burn the man to ash? Did he tell you that?” Native Bruce attacked.

It was hard for Bruce to block. They moved the same way, used the same moves. Knew the same counterattacks. “Did you ever ask why?” Bruce demanded when they backed off to circle each other again, each one wary of the other.

Native Bruce snorted. “Why is irrelevant,” he said grimly. “What’s important is that he needs to be stopped. They all do!”

“Even Damian?” demanded Bruce.

“Especially Damian!” Native Bruce attacked. “The little traitor sided with Kal-el instead of killing him like he was supposed to!”

Native Bruce had sent a child, his child, against a powerful alien. Told the boy to kill the alien. Called the boy a traitor for not doing it.

The two geared up for one last battle. One of them had nothing left to lose. One of them had everything to lose.

Only one could win.

#justice leauge dark #dark superman #broken batman #dark batman #league satellite #open ending

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sloppy-butcher · 3 years

Text

Waitin’ On a Superman - Chapter 2: Living with the Flies

(The Hillbilly (Max Thompson Jr.) x female!reader)

Previous; Next

With his hands dripping in a thick syrup mixed from blood and other unidentifiable substances, the high-pitch whining in his head finally ceased to a distant thumping. He had been granted peace at last, a reprieve from everything and everyone that had been clawing away at his mind, consuming his every waking moment with its greedy need for his attention. He was finally free, finally allowed to think clearly, finally himself, finally Max.

That's who he had claimed himself to be - Max. It was his name, his birth-right had his face not come out the way that it did, and no one could take it away. Even when the water rippled and became too murky to see through and Boy would be called on for work, Max knew he was Max and that eventually everything would settle and he would return to being just Max. It is one of the many things Max had learned since his arrival to this strange world. Everything comes in turns like how the pouring of heavy rain and hail that used to hammer on the roof of his shed - as bad as the whining would get, it would soon swallow itself up and laze its volume. And though it would never stop completely, a wish too selfish and good to be true, he found that he enjoyed every opportunity he had to think.

Right now was one of those moments, there was sacred silence in his head and he could think of anything he wanted to. He was Max and he was free to think, free to be normal. However, try as he might, his mind always trailed back to the person in the red barn. Or rather, the girl he could never seem to get rid of.

She had been lost in the corn fields for as long as he cared to remember, forever walking to some undisclosed destination. He has crossed her path many at times before, found her mindless wandering his land like a dazed, head-less chicken, and he had dealt with her the only way he knew how - he left her for Boy to find. He would take care of this most unfortunate trespasser quickly and without much of a fuss, removing her in such a way that it hard to tell if she had ever been there at all. It was what Boy had been made to do after all, to deal with all those laughing, unwelcome people.

He supposed she had somehow gotten trapped here like he had - the corn was like a deep, sinking mud, it grabbed anyone that strayed too close and it never let go. There were no physical walls that bordered his land, not of brick or wood or stone that one could touch or climb over, but Max knew that there was something binding him to that place, he could sense them surrounding him. And her. She was trapped just like he was.

How it burned him to be stuck in the same hole as this insolent girl. This was his farm! His land! His alone and no one else's! He fought for it, through years of blood, sweat and flies, he himself reclaimed this part of the world for his own personal occupation. All he wanted was to be alone here! Safe from the eyes of the judgmental and hateful others, a sanctuary. His sanctuary. Yet here, slithering in like vermin into an open feed room, was this girl.

When he first saw her, Max felt no remorse leaving her to the mercy of Boy. Die, he spat at her, die and never come back! Don’t you come here to laugh at me! To laugh at Max!

But after the failure of his sixth attempt to remove her stain from his fields, Max learned another lesson about this realm. Nothing stays dead, not forever at least. Even if he were to take off her head and crush her heart in his hands until it was nothing but mush under his fingernails, she would not stay that way. It was only a matter of time before she’d reassemble herself and wake as if from a deep sleep, completely normal and none-the-wiser to her previous demise. Then she’d start walking again.

Boy was beginning to get fed up with her, turning his back when confronted by her on his daily rounds rather than slaughtering her straight out. With Boy refusing to handle the trespasser, a waste of energy and time he condemned, Max begrudgingly and resentfully accepted that there was no getting rid of the wanderer in the field. He simply had to wait until she managed to squeeze her way out the fence that same way she had snuck in.

Time is the most peculiar thing to the man who never learned to read a clock. Even before Max had been taken away to this endless night-time realm where nothing aged or moved, the stars never blinking and the moon hanging lifeless in the shallow sky, he was not one able to tell when minutes turned to hours or hours to days. There was only the rise and falling of the sun and the tuning in of his T.V programs to help him navigate through the daily grind. Without these markers of passage however, he was adrift at sea, confused. Time did not exist here. Regardless, there was no denying that he did feel the weighing of age begin to get heavier and grow longer. Max knew that it had been a very, very long time since first the girl had arrived.

A thought had started to bubble in his mind whenever it would be quiet enough to think. It started as soft as the wind through an empty field then grew louder and persistent like the dripping of a leaky faucet. Eventually it became as booming and demanding as the grinding of a rusty chainsaw motor. With every passing night, Max had to put up with the thought maturing and expanding until it developed the same frequency and urgency as that of the whining.

He should try to talk to her.

A most simple idea, when written on paper, but one that seemed completely and utterly unattainable, unfathomable, unreal in reality. Max had only spoken to one other person and it was a miserable experience to say the least. He made a personal vow then, when staring down into his mother’s mortified and busted face as her blood dripped from his clenched fist, to never utter a single word to anyone else again. People didn’t like it when he spoke, so why even try? He decided to remain a speechless monster, sparing himself the terrified looks. And so he did - it was, of course, made easier when everyone he encountered after his oath of silence were all dead or soon to be so. The girl was the first in a very long line of lonely nights and murderous routine who had presented something of a conundrum to his vow. He couldn’t kill her so what to do now?

He should try to talk to her. Opportunities like this don’t just fall into his lap everyday. Max, though made from mud and filth, had always the hopeful spirit. Uncrushed optimism that had only been covered in dust, untouched, but never destroyed or rotted. Maybe one day his parents would love him. Maybe one day his face won’t be so ugly. And maybe one day he could try to talk to someone like a normal human being.

Preposterous! Unthinkable! He should just kill her! Keep killing her until eventually it sticks. Or get Boy to do it one last time. Max grumbled, hunching over with his head in his hands trying to dig out the worming voices in his ears. Though this new voice was as loud as that of the whining, it was nowhere near as painful - it didn’t make his stomach feel achy nor his chest fume with anger. Instead this voice tickled him and brought about interest of a forgotten kind. A voice that said ‘What if.’

He buries head in the dirt. Tunneling deeper into soundless soil until there would be nothing at all, digging so far down that he might lose all sense of who Max was. Anything to get away from the thought, which had now sprouted its own self-importance and action, and ground any of the daydreams that accompanied it. Oh yes, Max had started to dream about it all. In his weaker moments, he’d start imagining what it would be like talking to her. Not only that but he had started to like the fantasy, to hold on and encourage the idea of interaction like how they did on the T.V - like ordinary people. A small part of him fluttered whenever thinking about how it would go, whether that was because he feared her rejection like so many before or because, deep down, he was stupidly hopeful was a plea he did not seek to uncover. It was simply a fantasy, a dream but one that always tasted so tangible and delightful.

What if… What if…

He stumbles upon her in the corn - the very thing he had been trying to avoid entirely yet could not stop thinking about. There's an impressive silence hanging in the air as he feels his breathing hitch. She stops, her back facing him and Max knows that she has sensed him near her however refuses to react. She is quiet, completely motionless as a wind rips through the corn and between them. So close and yet so far away. He feels a rising panic in his chest like the jumping of frightened pheasants after the firing of a shotgun. It's too soon, he has no idea what to say. Hasn’t practiced anything. How would she react? Why did he care so much? Just kill her. Kill her, kill-

“I know you are there.” It was the girl who broke the inflating silence. She spoke first and her voice, ever the small and quiet thing like its master, was so ordinary and plain. Max found himself taken aback - did all people speak so distant and mundane? It was not exactly like the gnawing of his parents but it certainly was no sound from the T.V. It was just a voice, neither grand nor harsh and something he hadn’t heard in years.

“Be quick.” She answered his unsaid command. She was smart, it seemed. Somehow she knew that he was debating on killing her yet, rather than fight or show fear, she accepted it. And asked only that he would be quick and painless. A finger flexes around the trigger of his chainsaw. It was easier this way - avoid confrontation by snubbing it before it could bloom. This had already gone too far, she had actually said something to him. Acknowledged his being. It was all becoming too much for him to handle.

“Please.” Max, at first, did not even recognize the word. He had heard it before, yes, but never directed solely at him. It was a gesture of pleading, an appeal for respect and for the saving of face in the approach of death. She had asked Max, begged him in a mellow, drawn-out tone, to do what he wanted. All without a hint of aggression, resistance or even resentment. She just sounded tired, tired beyond words. It certainly was not his parents speaking, and with knowing the outcome of attempting to cut her down, Max felt a sudden urge to act on that dream of his.

Why, on this Earth of yellow and mud, did Max mention the pigs? Of all the things he could have said, of all the ways he could have started the conversation and he just mentioned pigs. What was he thinking? The simple explanation for his outburst would be that he panicked and picked the first thing that came to mind. The long explanation would be that it was the only thing he could think of. His voice, when pushed with air, was sticky and sore and his words shook uncomfortably in his ears. But as sure as he was that whatever mutated and horrible sound he was producing would drive anyone mad, he noticed how you barely even flinched. Though small, his confidence to speak erupted at your lack of reluctance to listen. With each utterance he became bolder. With each syllable he drew closer.

All too soon his jar ran full and threatened to overflow and Max had to think of a way to get rid of her. Tuck her away somewhere until his mind was clear again and he would think straight. Max contemplated a moment before ushering her to the red barn that had once housed Boy many, many years ago. He couldn’t stand to be near it, let alone even look at it and hurriedly pointed the girl inside. As she walked away, her back once more turned towards him, Max heard another unfamiliar phrase being directed at him.

“Thank you.”

It was said in a heartbeat and was gone before the wind touched his face. So nonchalant she made it seem, throwing the appreciation over her shoulder like it was nothing at all. Like it carried no weight or meaning. Yet to him, it was everything. A thank you. God knows he does not deserve it - those were the forms of human kindness reserved only for the good ones. He was not one of those good ones. But she said it, offering to him her gratitude and how strange it was to wear it.

He waited a few minutes longer, hidden perfectly in the towering corn, his brain slowly digesting the events that just happened. Not only had Max spoken to the someone, who did not hit him nor scream, but also thanked him.

Max wanted to bathe longer in the warm glory-light of the conversation, take in and commit to memory all the little things she had said and done and how he had responded to it all. But there was a ringing in his ears, replacing all that had happened with its deafening white noise. Without fighting he turned to face the call of the void and hoped beyond anything that everything had been real and he was not dreaming again.

#long post #dbd imagines #dbd the hillbilly #dbd the hillbilly x reader #dbd max thompson jr #dbd max thompson jr x reader #dbd x reader #hillbilly story #waiting on a superman

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