#Same Lane

[hedgiwithapen]

Oooh can we get a continuation of that ‘bb!Clark kidnapped by US Govt’ au—in which tween Lois is accompanying her dad on a Take Your Child to Work Day or something, and (sneaks off and) meets his trainee superweapon? Or maybe Sam brings Clark home for dinner one night to acclimate him to average human life before an undercover mission?

followup to this one from earlier this DHD weekend! It came down to the babysitter coming down with the flu. Reluctantly, Sam assured Mandy this would be a one time occurrence, and then sat Lucy and Lois down in an empty conference room, with a stack of coloring books, markers, textbooks, and a backpack full of distractions and snacks from home.

“Stay in here. Do not leave this room,” he said, giving his girls each a quick, loose hug. “Lois, do your homework. Lucy, draw something nice for us to take to Mommy, ok? If you get bored, uh.. just… text me, I’ll have something else for you to do.”

Lucy saluted, already scribbling. Lois saw her dad wince as the markers skipped across the paper and onto the table. “Ok, sir,” she said, but she could see the look on his face, and beamed, like it was just a joke. It was, mostly.

“Lo, I mean it. Stay put.”

She nodded, serious. The minute he was gone, she glanced into her palm. His keycard almost glittered in the light. She grinned, and then sighed.

She did her homework. Both her parents--usually Mom, on her good days-- insisted homework had to come first. She did six math problems of the fifteen assigned, which was basically half, right? Swinging her legs, she looked at her Language arts assignment, which was the same as starting it, which was close enough to finishing it. She could write a book report in her sleep, and who needed to study for a spelling test, anyways?

Lucy kept coloring.

"I'm gonna go explore," Lois told her sister.

"Daddy said to stay here," Lucy said.

"Yeah, well, I'm going anyways. You in?"

"I'm coloring," Lucy said, very serious. Lois took that as a 'no.'

The keycard locks made a very satisfying beep and click noise, lighting up green when she pressed her dad's badge against them. The first few rooms she poked her head into were empty, or boring. Filing cabinets were cool to climb on, but She was getting too big for that, and they never had much interesting in them, just papers. Adults loved papers.

One room was labeled 'secure, no unauthorized personnel' which Lois thought was a great sign, literally and figuratively. There had to be something really cool through it. She swiped the keycard against the scanner, already up on her tiptoes like that would get her in faster.

The light inside was red, like the photo darkroom she'd seen on a school trip once. "Coooool," Lois breathed, peering around. Movement drew her eye, and she took a step back, already rehearsing the story she'd give if she got caught.

Her eyes adjusted before whoever it was could yell at her, and she realized why.

A boy about her age was sitting in the corner on a camping cot, looking at her with wide blue eyes.

She took a step forward. "Hi," she said, boldly, sticking out a hand. "I'm Lois. Who are you?"

"I…I'm a weapon," the boy said with uncertainty, not moving to shake. Lois frowned.

"I'm a journalist-in-training," she said, finally dropping her arm. "But I was asking your name."

He blinked, lifting a hand to his neck. Lois's eyes widened. "Oh my god," she said. "That's--um. Are you…ok?" She'd thought for a second he was like her, waiting for a parent to finish work, but that was a shock collar. Like the kind for dogs. And he still hadn't given her a name, and she wasn't much good at math but one plus one absolutely made two and this plus that absolutely made This Is Bad.

"No," the boy said, in such a small voice it broke her heart.

She crossed the room fast. It was easy, being much taller than it was long or wide. "Um, it's gonna be ok," she tried. They were empty type words, words people used when nothing was going to be ok, but this was something that could be fixed. Her fingers felt for a latch, and found a sensor instead.

Her Dad couldn't have known about this. He wouldn't. But he had a lot of clearance, so maybe the card would be programed anyways? She tried it, and a red light clicked off as the collar dropped away. "Is that better?" she asked, hopefully. The boy just shrugged.

"I--think so," he said. "I want to go home."

"Okay," Lois said. "We just have to find my dad. He's gonna be mad I stole his card, but that's okay! it's for the greater good. He'll fix this." She reached for the boy's hand, tugging him to his feet. "C'mon."

Opening the door again was easy, but she hadn't realized it was soundproofed until she opened the door. Some kind of alarm was going. Glancing up, she noticed for the first time the camera pointed at the door, stuck to the ceiling. She would have waved, sheepishly, at getting caught, but she was too angry.

A bunch of people in the uniform her dad wore stood in the hall, blocking the way back to the conference room. They held guns. Lois swallowed. "I'm Lois Lane," she said. "My dad's General Samuel Lane. He's in charge. He outranks you. I need to talk to him." They were the words he'd taught her if the military ever tried to intimidate her, and they sure were trying now.

"Lois," her dad's voice echoed over footsteps, and Lois's heart leaped even as she felt the boy behind her shrink back. Like he was scared. She was scared too, of the guns, but not of her dad.

"Dad, some people were holding this boy pr--"

"Lois, get away from it, right now."

"It?" she echoed, blinking in confusion.

"Now, Lois. That's an order."

"Dad?" she asked. "I don't… you--knew about him?"

"It's a weapon, Lois. It'll hurt you. Come over here."

"No." She couldn't. She wouldn't. Something in her gut told her that this was wrong. She trusted that more than her dad. It hadn't failed her yet. She gripped the boy's hand tight. "I won't let you hurt him."

"Clark," the boy whispered behind her, still sounding so scared, like he thought it might be the last thing he'd get to say. She nodded.

"I won't let you hurt Clark," she corrected herself.

She saw the hesitation in her father's eyes. She lifted her chin.

"Lois…" her father said. He closed his eyes, and lifted a hand.

The soldiers in the hall lowered their guns.

[vakariaan]

Clois +

[hood-ex]

Dick's reaction to seeing Michael standing on top of a building after stabbing people with his swords.

Azrael (Vol. 2) #14

[arriettyspin]

Hey so remember when Jinx became the figurehead of a revolution and the show proceeded to do nothing with that plotline at all?

[ghostbsuter]

He's hiding, the half collapsed pillar in an abandoned office building, halfway ruined and completely left to collapse in metropolis.

His core is pulsing, air freezing and eyes not focused.

Metropolis is big and bright.

There is no way they could get him here, not with kryptonian heroes at its beck and call. Danny saw Supergirl save the day, the big blue at her tail, saving civilians.

Danny followed the official daily planet channel and reads along every line Lois Lane and her husband, Clark Kent, write each time, making people aware of problems, and most importantly exposing people.

The rich and corrupted.

So yes, is it frightening? Anxiety filling? Putting trust into complete strangers in hopes they'd uncover the Guys in White if they appear in the city?

Yes, yes it is.

He hopes Jon, the boy he has been helping with homework in a cafe, won't miss him too much in case it does happen.

[jesncin]

Every time I think of Lois calling Clark "Kampung Boy" I get a year added to my lifespan so thanks for that

[adds another year to your lifespan]

[lavendel081]

Been watching Daria

[were-wolverine]

ok but like. clark using bruce as his basis for human strengths and limits

clark: don’t worry it’s just a broken arm, you’ll be fine in a few days

lois, who got hurt doing dangerous shit bc she’s a reporter first: what.

clark: yeah you should still be able to use it right now!

lois: …clark who told you that

clark: ?? no one? i mean, b once picked up robin with two broken arms so i assumed it wasn’t that bad…

lois: clark, hun. that’s because he’s a freak of nature.

clark: ???

————————————————————————

clark: what do you mean it’s incredibly difficult/almost impossible for humans to stay up for 48+ consecutive hours? bruce does it like all the time

dinah: that’s because he’s bruce

clark: yes, and…?

dinah: and he is so stubborn that he actually does ‘impossible’ things all the time, just to prove he can

clark: …touché

————————————————————————

*talking to arthur*

clark: wait wait, people are considered ‘very skilled’ if they can hold their breath underwater for 3-4 minutes?

arthur: yup!

clark:

dick, walking by and overhearing: i can do it for seven minutes!

clark: see, that’s what i think of when i hear someone is ‘very skilled’. bruce-

dick, groaning: -can hold his breath underwater for eighteen minutes, we know. bruce and the rest of us have competitions for skills like that sometimes, and he totally brags about it when he wins. i’ve only passed out once, which actually makes me second place after bruce haha

arthur:

arthur: you people concern me

dick, grinning: we’re fine! don’t worry about it

arthur: i’m actually going to worry more now, but sure

————————————————————————

bruce, vaguely amused: clark.

clark, working on an article: hm?

bruce: clark. you really shouldn’t use me as the basis for normal human durability.

clark, looking up and blinking: what?

bruce, almost grinning: dick told me you’ve been using me as a comparison to normal people’s abilities and endurance

clark: oh.

bruce, actually smiling now: i appreciate the admiration, but it won’t help you to understand basic human durability

clark, blushing: y-yeah, of course! won’t happen again haha…

bruce: i mean, i could just teach you. if you want.

clark:

clark: yeah yup yes absolutely mhm for sure

*later*

clark, on his way out of the manor: …i really didn’t expect to get homework tonight, if i’m being honest

dick, winking: don’t worry, that’s his love language

[allyriadayne]

AEGON TARGARYEN AND JACAERYS VELARYON: PARALLELS AND FOILS

Criston: Eldest son against eldest son. Harwin: It's hardly a fair match.

[thenotoriousscuttlecliff]

Lois ain't beating the "She's Luz" accusations any time soon.

[hedgiwithapen]

My Adventures With Superman: Sam Lane, and an eight year old Clark Kent.

General Lane holstered the newest prototype he’d been given for the mission, surveying the debris.  The ship had been less armed than anticipated. He’d overprepared, but that was always better than underpreparing. The field around him, the farmhouse, the dark ship that had haunted his nightmares, lay in ruins. “Well?” Mandy asked over the com in his ear. “Did you locate the last ship?” “I did,” he said. “This one was smaller. Mostly intact. It must have slipped past the sensors during Zero Day.” “I’ll send backup. How many robots?” “There was one. It’s taken care of.” “Any tech salvageable?” “Some,” he reported, looking back at the …creature…at his feet. “Something else, too. Sleeper agent.” “Pickup’s a minute out. We’ll find out what it knows.”

The new headquarters was nice, a far cry from the tents pitched around cornfields of seven years ago.  It was secure, with rooms for gear, for recreation, for combat practice. And rooms for prisoners. Finally, after years, they had one. General Lane stood at perfect attention, his spine rigid, his arms locked, his eyes still, concealing the racing in his brain. It looked human.  When he’d followed his scanner leading to one of the Invader ships, he’d expected more of the robots, killing machines made of non-earth-metal, sleek and calculating.  What he’d found instead looked like a human, like a child. Seven or eight, the part of his brain that was unhelpfully pointing out how much the invader’s dark hair looked like Lucy’s, how the way it had tucked both arms around its knees looked like Lois, sitting up in bed after a night terror.  He told that part of his brain to shut off, stand down, stop. He wasn’t sure it was better than remembering the sight of the battlefield, the fire-furrowed cropland, the scorched bodies. It was easy to keep his voice hard. “When is the invasion?” “I don’t know,” a tiny voice replied. It yelped when the collar sparked red, answering Mandy’s remote.  “Who are your people? What are their plans for Earth?” Amanda Waller stepped in. General Lane bit back the advice that one question at a time would be better. It wasn’t only his call. And this wasn’t a human child.  He’d follow Mandy’s lead. “I don’t know,” the invader whispered again, his bright blue eyes shining. It was a clever trick. “I want to go home.” “Where is home?” General Lane asked, sharp. “How many of you are there?” It shook its head again. “I don’t know, just me, I--I was home, you took me.” “That wasn’t your home. You came from that ship. Why?” “I don’t know,” it repeated, hugging its knees closer.  General Lane forced down the twinge of sympathy. It was probably calculated for just such a reaction, but knowing that didn’t make it easier. It was all too easy to imagine this…thing sitting at a school lunch table with his daughter.  “I swear,” the voice crept higher. Waller waggled the remote. The invader stared up at her, cringing backwards as far as chains would allow. “Your people sent you here. When are they coming back?” “I told you, I don’t know. Please, you can ask M--” it cut off, tears flowing again. “I don’t know anything.  I don’t remember anything.” “Hm.” Waller looked at the General. “Maybe it’ll feel more cooperative in the morning.” she turned on her heel, trusting him to have her back. Trusting the tech in this cell to prevent any need for him to. General Lane followed. “So, what do you think, Sam?” she asked him as they fell into step down the hall. He sighed, a little heavier. “It can’t be old enough to have been part of the invasion force.  Sleeper agent, maybe a decoy. But I don’t… I think it was telling the truth about not knowing.” “You’re probably right,” Mandy sighed right back at him. “But at least we’re not back to square one.  When Nemesis Omega comes back, we’ll have a weapon to use against them. Or a hostage. Either works. I’m sending you back out. We need to be sure there’s no more of them waiting.” “Right.” Sam said, swallowing his doubts. “Mandy. You don’t need me to tell you, but… if we want it to be our weapon…” “You’re right. I don’t need you to tell me. This is my side of things, Sam. Let me handle it. Go home. See your girls.” she paused midstep, a rarity, and her voice softened, ever so slightly. “I am sorry. I know civilian casualties are hard for you. But it’ll save so many lives. I hope you can see that.” Sam nodded, though he couldn’t. All he could see was himself, in the farmers’ faces.

[mamawasatesttube]

i just think lois lane should put tim drake in her purse like a little dog. a scrunkly little companion who's even better at picking locks than she is, which is saying something. a nosy little freak after her own heart. the rubber duck she uses when talking her thoughts out loud to put clues together. her coffee gofer. her purse ferret.

[infamous-if]

august valentine’s day special converted me fr .. seven WHO?? replaying the demo just to flirt with august heavily

the seven to august pipeline is stronger than ever...we need to investigate why it's those two specifically lmfoadhshdndsa

[romantichopelessly]

I cannot believe Maggie Stiefvater invented this insane character of an old English historian turned assassin with a serial killer brother and a milf he’s in love with who exemplifies themes of detachment and coming back into living your life for yourself and violence and being a tool to the narrative and then DIDNT include him in her trilogy about ‘what happens after the prophecies’ and what family means and finding something to do with yourself after you’ve learned who you are and generational violence. but instead she made another character who makes herself a tool for a cause she doesn’t believe in because she’s trying to escape her serial killer brother. Okay. Yeah. That’s Fine.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

it doesnt need to be said but its genuinely so funny how at-the-hip charles and erik are in krakoa like they really had the green light- the OBLIGATION- to be as obnoxiously close to each other as possible and abused that right to the fullest extent

[carry-on-my-wayward-butt]

I can’t even complain to my friends about how suicidal my period makes me because they’re cis dudes and literally cannot conceptualize how fucking immediate the hormone spike is and how “suicidal” is not a hyperbolic word choice meaning “super bummed” but I literally have to use bodybuilder strength to pull the will to live out of every possible fibre of my body because the sharp implements and rope-like objects in my house call to me like sirens on a rocky shore