#but were talking about bruce and clark here stay on topic

[monkesupreme]

I think about this alot (horror games are my fave even if 80% of them suck ass). Some characters feel like they need to be in psychological horror and others feel like they need to be in survival horror. Sometimes both.

Bruce reads as a survival horror protag and im NOT going to cheap out and say its bc hes a loner yadda yadda its cause hes so eager to protect people and give second chances hes the one that would want to help someone infected find a cure hes the one that would inevitably risk his and others safety to protect One person he simply does not believe in the idea of sacrificing One person for the betterment of others. Hes someone who is quick witted and good at improvising in dangerous situations and good at knowing when he is completely out of his league. U can throw him in group survival-esque stories (typical zombie horror games like l4/d, the show From, etc etc) and hed fit right in bc his whole thing is taking in people Like Him and protecting them at all costs, including the cost of his own life if need be. Hes never the loner he wants people to believe he is bc he cares too much about Every life.

Clark reads as a isolated survival horror protag bc, while he is someone who works well with others, he obv defaults to depending on only himself and hiding from others. Someone who would break away and find his own answers and possibly get himself killed in the process. Dead/space has a man respond to a distress call BY HIMSELF bc that call came from his (what he knew but didnt want to believe) dead wife. Hes someone who makes himself as small as possible to deceive others, and believes in his own mind, strength and cunning to outsmart literally Anyone- hed be the most susceptible to running off alone and getting himself stuck as much as i love him. Think of like. Alien. The Thing. Dead Space. Outlast (tentatively). Real tangible threats but no one can help bc everyone you know is tearing at each others throats like savages. Its very fun to think about how someones positive traits can circle back to being extreme negatives when put into dire situations.

Other stuff i wanna yell about (bruce) and putting behind a readmore to protect ur dash

Bruce ALSO fits in psychological horror really well, its just that survival horror fits him Better i think. His biggest weakness besides his family is his own mind, and he is afraid of having it tampered with at all (who isnt ?). He has an iron grip on his bodily control and when it slips even a little it frazzles him. Silent hill is a given for this kind of thing but theres some really good indie games i think works well for him. Mirror layers is a fave of mine- mixes in the unreality with puzzles and arg style detective work where u work with other people who are also trapped. Yes theres a beast chasing me but dont worry about that, what im concerned w is that my house is suddenly in purgatory and OTHER people need my help as much as i need theirs to get out. Cool as shit. Fits perfectly w the theme of Bruce problem solving his way out of threats instead of just punching their faces in. Funny enough this is also something i think Clark would fit in nicely.

Wanna put clark in horror situations soooo badly- its like his whole being is asking for it

[lordgrimoire]

The Goonion would like a Word

Bruce had never had an experience like this before, letters of ransom from any of his rogues? Certainly! But the Goonion only ever left messages when they were paying bail for their own, and he was becoming worried as to why Jason’s Goons had posted a message to him via The Goonion.

“To Batman of Gotham, New Jersey, United States of America, We would like to have a word with you in regards to a pair of Meta Adjacent individuals we would like to harbor here in Gotham, we are only extending the courtesy to you regarding them due to the fact that the United States Government refuses to acknowledge them as people due to their conditions, the Boss said he would tell you himself, if he has not already he likely will soon. Suffice to say a family of three is coming to Gotham as their last chance at a safe harbor and we would prefer it if you did not get on their cases. We hope to receive your response without any broken bones, The Goonion, Gotham, New Jersey Branch.” Tim was staring at the paper, the stationary of The Goonion, with confusion, Dick, Barbara, Cass, and Stephany seemed rather accepting of it, and Damian was confused. 

“What is this, Goonion?” His youngest asked, staring at the paper as Bruce read over the return address, the Iceberg Lounge, a server named Thomas. 

“Ah, we haven’t told you about them yet have we?” Dick began, sitting back. “They’re nice folks, help get the Goons payed and are usually the ones to put their feet down when Rogues get outta hand for normal folks, for instance, the Joker does not have the stamp of approval for, many reasons. But primarily it’s due to his former Henchmen, including Harley, snitching on him to the Goonion.” Dick typed something into his phone, Damian’s own device pinging in his pocket, likely more info. “The Goonion has an odd relationship with us, we don’t go after them and they try to keep things regulated, Jason could probably tell you more, and it seems from the letter we do have to talk to him.” The door to the cave opened, and while Bruce looked up to see his second son come walking down the steps he seemed, tired, run down even.

“The Goonion already got to you? Good on them.” Jason huffed as he sat next to Damian, ruffling the boy’s head much to his exasperation and attempted swatting. “Situations fucked, the letter doesn’t even touch on the bigger parts but it gets, real fucky like, possibly gonna want to get Uncle Clark and Aunt Diana in on it fucky, definitely Constantine as well.” Well Bruce knew his flags rather well and if Jason was advocating for not only a League intervention but one headed by John Constantine? Bruce decided to address the original topic first. 

“They can stay, but they will have to answer questions.” Jason huffed and leaned back. 

“Ground rules then, the two younger kids? Meta Adjacent? They have a similar situation to me, and it turns out Ra’s is playing with not even a tenth of a full puzzle with the Lazarus Pit.” Everyone around the table stiffened, save Alfred who had come in behind Jason with a tea service, as Jason took a sip from the mug placed before him and nodding to Alfred. “Thank you. The details are spotty but the abridged form is this, the Lazarus pit is the remains of a bunch of people from a dimension to which we all go when we die, the residents therein call it the Infinite Realms since it services everyone that means every Person who has a faith or doesn’t has a place there. Furthermore these three’s parents who passed recently in a Government Sanctioned raid made a Portal to the Infinite Realms, and Lazarus Water? Corrupted, dirty, a literally soul eroding form of what makes up matter on that end of the divide, Ectoplasm.” Jason withdrew a vial from his pocket, a bright green and sluggish substances was held within. “This is pure ectoplasm, The Parents, a pair known as Doctors Jack and Madeline Fenton, introduced me to a Doctor from the Infinite Realms, suffice to say I am feeling much less angry and far more at peace with things, though apparently being angry is normal for the type of “Dead but Brought Back” I am.” Jason placed the vial on the table and slowly pushed it to Bruce, taking his hand back when he reached for it.

“Jazz, the eldest, is a student at Gotham University, or she is now, identities and the like will be handled later but for the younger two it’s time for some non starters, because apparenlty if you ask an Ecto Entity or anyone touched by the Infinite Realms how they died it sets off a “I Must Kill You Now” trigger in their head, essentially forcing them to suffer their deaths all over again until they deal with who or whatever asked the question, so no being a little nosey punk about it Tim.” Tim jolted at his name being said instead of Jason’s nickname for him but he nodded when he realized that his elder brother hadn’t looked away from him. Bruce was still proud the two had started to mend things so well, but as he stared at the vial a question swirled in his mind.

“Why did the Goonion send a letter then?” Jason stiffened slightly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Alrighty, so you know how I’ve been going to College classes since a year ago? I met Jazz at one of them, as Jason Todd, son of Bruce Wayne and card carrying member of Red Hood’s Goonion. This was, sometime around Spring Semester, soooooo” Steph lunged up, mouth open with a squeak until Cass pulled her back down. Jason sighed and continued. “We started dating last year, she wants to be a psychiatrist and maay have started working for The Goonion in Star City when one of their guys ended up on her mentor’s patient bench. Her academics are already transferred to Gotham U but she’s still looking for a new Mentor.” Bruce made an affirmative noise at that, encouraging, Jason was holding something back, the younger siblings hadn’t been named yet. “The Goonion hired her former mentor and Jazz followed them in since they have really good benefits, and she has experience with the whole Capes and Crooks thing already. Though she told me she would rather she and her siblings explain that.” 

So, Jasmine Fenton, after being a student for at least a year in Psychiatry, became a Goonion Psychiatrist, and then when her Parents died she takes her younger siblings, one of whom is rather recently adopted into the family by the looks of it, and flees her hometown, one Amity Park Illinois, which has a disturbingly blank file in the League databanks. “Yeah,” Jason began, looking over at the Batcomputer, scanning the total lack of data from two year ago on. “The Government locked their hometown down quick, they have a branch called the Ghost Investigation Ward, who managed to get a law in before our current Shining Dome of a President, was sworn in, apparenlty old Lex has been trying to rip that law to shredds since he found out about it and there’s something akin to a coup attempt going on from the GIW towards Lex. I looked into those guys already, I think it would be wiser to side with the current President and not a bunch of Loons who would dissect Uncle Clark and his kids if they got the chance.” Damian jerked slightly, turning to face Jason.

“What?” 

“Yeah, Krypton is dead it’s a dead world, by some of the smaller parts of the Anti-Ecto Acts that means that all Kryptonians are ecto-beings and by that law have no sentience, and are just emotions imprinted on ectoplasm, given the fact I died once they would pick me up as well in a heartbeat, for “disposal” as they call it.” The room had become Still, Dick seemed furious, staring at the damning lack of info alongside a pale Tim, Damian who was still staring at Jason realized just why his brother had looked back to him and was also looking at Cass, they had been brought back by the pit, they were by Federal Law non-sentient. Bruce felt the arms of his chair bend slightly under his grip before breathing out his frustration. 

“You have a plan?” Jason nodded, he seemed to be expecting worse, you really didn’t give him a reason not to, and began speaking.

“The Goonion will be dealing with protecting people who fall under the acts, we just need the JL to take this problem and light it on fire, drag it into the public eye and raid a few of the GIW’s bases that may have people, both from our side and theirs, in captivity. I will be going tonight to get Jazz and her Siblings from a bolt hole of theirs, an Aunt in Arkansas whose bound to be investigated is hiding them, I just need to borrow something.” Bruce allowed an eyebrow to climb up his forehead, he wants to borrow the Batplane for it.

“I’ll allow it, go and get them once it starts to become dark out, I’ll expect you back by dawn, do you have a place set up?” Jason blinked at him before nodding. 

“Yeah, one of the safer corners of Crime Alley, closest part to Gotham University, three bedrooms, two bath, someone maaay have helped me pick it out.” Bruce nodded, he would get nowhere in trying to guess which of his other children, Alfred, or any of Jason’s friends, or even some of their own collectively reformed Rogues could have helped Jason in this, but suffice to say it was a safe harbor and one backed by some rather tough figures. The Goonion alone would give anyone trouble, but with them being in Crime Alley that meant that they were essentially in an invaders nightmare. Dead ends, construction, dilapidated or abandoned buildings, it was a natural ambush site. Jason then put a box on the table, it was a scanner of some sort. 

“One of the reasons they’re coming here is this,” he flipped a switch and the machine began to frantically beep, practically sounding a long tone before Jason flipped it off again, “Gotham sits on a similar point to Amity Park, and as such we are LOADED with ambient ectoplasm, constantly stirred up by magic based curses of one sort or another it essentially blinds ectoplasmic tracking devices.” Bruce nodded, accepting the device as it was pushed down the table to him. “Jazz had apparently decided that they would run to Gotham if things went sideways like this anyways, we’re the closest ambiently effected city to Amity not ringed by GIW outposts and scanners.” Bruce paused in his observing of the machine, the GIW had surrounded other cities that had high ambient ectoplasm?

“Where?” Jason pulled out a small notepad.

“Well, Jazz wouldn’t tell us, but the Goonion has it’s ways, The GIW has encircled the following cities, Salem, Boston, and Springfield of Massachusetts, New Orleans, New York, Philadelphia and Gettysburg of Pennsylvania, Chicago Illinois, Savanah Georgia, D.C., and then San Francisco and San Antonio of California and Texas respectively, I asked for this list at 6 this morning, I was handed this current version at Noon, these were just the overt ones. Metropolis, Bludhaven, and Gotham, are currently not surrounded, there are locations between them but not many.” Bruce stood, watching as addresses were placed on the table, each assigned a sticky note and details. 

“You should get ready to go get Jazz and her siblings, we’ll deal with this.” Bruce tapped on the sticky note closest to him. Jason nodded and stood, following Alfred out of the Batcave as Bruce looked to the rest of his family. “We have targets, we have details, Tim, dig up what you can on the GIW, Damian, Dick, Cass, Stephanie, your with me, we’re going to raid as many of these places as we can tonight, Barbara,”

“I’ve got comms, got it.” She interrupted, rolling over to the Bat computer and preparing for daylight operations 

[stoptellinglieslois]

Principal of pleasure part 24

Bruce is persistently calling Dick cell, Dick panics and suspect Bruce knows about them.

Superman x Nightwing pairing

Dick

"Clark it's ringing again what do I do."

"Hang on don't pick it up yet wait maybe he will stop."

"He's not gonna stop Kal this is B we are talking about."

"Do you think he knows something."

"I never had any reason to let him think I was doing anything off kilter."

"Put him on speaker."

"What why?"

"Because I want to know if he suspect something."

"But I told you no he does not know anything."

"But I'm telling you I wanna be sure ok."

"No not ok."

"Just do it."

"No."

"Please little bird don't fight with me ok we are going against the bat here I want us to think not argue."

"Ok ok fine you win but don't breath don't talk I'll put us on speaker."

I was looking at Kal I was panicking I need a minute before I picked up to answer B.

"Fuck what if he knows."

"Pick it up little bird." Kal said calmly we are sitting on the bed now and I breathed in and out to collect my thoughts, Ready myself to speak to him but it was hard what was I going to say, I told him weeks ago that I wanted to cancel the dinner party that he planed out of the blue for me and Babs and I haven't told him why I didn't even tell Kal I cancel it we haven't talk really in depth.

I answered and put Bruce on speaker the deep voice came clear on the other line.

"You're calling me none stop what's up." I said as Kal reached over and held my hand.

"Dick I haven't heard from you in a while since you cancelled the dinner party. I wanted to know if you are ok you've been distant from me." Kal looks at me startled but he stayed calm none the less.

"No I just feel like we don't need to fuss right now that's all." I fidget I wanted nothing but to end the call but I knew Bruce better.

"I didn't think you would be so quick to cancel at breakfast you've seemed ok with it I just don't want to feel like I'm imposing myself on you." Bruce said his voice carried a hint of curiosity that filled the space of the cabin.

"It's fine really me and Babs are ok." I replied trying to think of an exit the call the mention of Clark's name got my attention instantly.

"Sorry what."

"I said I think I ruined things with Clark." Bruce answered sounding a bit sad and annoyed. "I don't think I ever told you but I have feelings for Clark and at breakfast I made a move on him it didn't go well." Kal squeezed my hand and we were not expecting this confession at all, I wasn't even thinking he would go there I mean why was he going there right now.

But I couldn't stay silent for long it wasn't good I had to say anything except sounding like an angry lover. "Wow B I never knew you had those feelings for him." I didn't want to venture at all with this topic but Bruce continued.

"He said he was married and we are still friends can you believe he said that after I showed what all but god for years and years of working by his side, And to be thrown away at this type of rejection I don't know what to do I was so caught up in the moment look Dick I never had feelings for another human being before like I do for Clark." I was shock I needed to end this now Kal looked at me in the eyes as I try to look down as Bruce confess his feelings.

"Clark is married to Lois." I whispered recollecting my thoughts as Bruce was putting us on the spot.

"I feel like there is something else that's going on with him like he is hiding something." Bruce said the whole snooping thing was back on in full swing.

"Leave it alone Bruce if anything it could be something personal then he probably does not want you digging in his affairs." I said Kal looking at me lovingly what are we going to do with each other I could see we can't really be around Bruce right now.

"How are you and Barbara things are ok you two are getting along with each other." Bruce changed the subject quickly and I thought that was strange.

"Me and her are good B like I said no fuss."

"Maybe we could have dinner then the whole family then will make it just a family affair, Then how about in the evening tommorrow around seven." I looked at Kal he stared back at me and I knew my hook up at the cabin had to come to a close.

"Ok just family then."

"Let me call Clark to see if he wants to come."

"I thought it was only family."

"Dick he is family." I went silent for a few moments and stared at Kal for a few seconds. "Yeah sure that would be great." This was becoming a tangled mess.

"See you then." And the call ended. "God Bruce knows something." Kal said the expression was thoughtful. "I thought you said he does not suspect a thing." I said to him getting up and getting dress.

"Where are you going you won't leave me in the middle of nowhere again like last time. You have no car you're stuck with me here." I sighed I shouldn't have been so quick to jump out of bed and find the next exit Kal wasn't trying to leap out of a window then I shouldn't either.

I sat back down on the bed with no bottoms on I had my hoodie I unzipped it and threw it on the floor.

"I feel like Bruce wants to prob but he does not know where to start."

"Damian I don't think he told Bruce but he warned me he told me stuff, Not about Bruce but the affair how it would ruin me that Bruce would ruin me and maybe he knows his father is in love with you Kal." I looked over at him he laid down next me and looked up at the ceiling.

And then that's when Kal's cell rang.

End of part 24 next is part 25

Thank you for reading

[notquiteaghost]

this is going to, eventually, be part of a longer thing, but the longer thing is being difficult & i'm damn proud of this scene, so. here is the set-up for Musings On How To Become A Superhero You Really Need To Have CPTSD

–––

When Dick is nine, his parents die.

His parents are killed, violently, while he watches, helplessly. And someone did that. Somewhere out there is a man, and that man killed Dick’s parents, and Dick wants to scream and scream and scream. And he’s nine, so mostly he does.

The social worker tries to talk Bruce out of keeping Dick, Dick out of staying. Has a lot to say about emotional support, and commitment, and the right fit. There are lots of people who would want to take Dick, apparently.

But none of them were there. None of them saw, and none of them gathered him in their arms and didn’t try to say anything, and none of them, when Dick could talk again and the first thing he said was, "They didn’t fall, someone killed them," none of them looked Dick in the eye and swore, "I will find whoever did this, and they will face justice."

Anyway, that’s why it takes Dick a good long while to realise that Bruce’s whole crusade thing is absolutely batshit.

When he’s a kid, and so angry all the time it feels like something in his chest has grown teeth and is trying to eat its way out, it makes sense. Of course Batman exists. Of course you can’t just sit at home and let other people get hurt. Of course you have to do everything, anything you can, because the worst possible thing happened to you and you wouldn’t wish the thing that lives in your chest now on anyone. Or, well, you would, and that’s why you wouldn’t. You want to destroy the man who did this to you, but you wouldn’t just be destroying him, because that’s how it works. You can’t know who else you would catch in the blast. You can’t let it be anyone.

When he’s thirteen, and there’s other kid heroes popping up, and the Justice League is starting to reckon with whether they’re okay with any kid being a hero at all, Clark talks to him. That’s how he realises.

They go to a diner. They always go to a diner, when Clark wants to talk. Clark feels safe being emotionally vulnerable in diners for reasons Dick can’t piece together yet.

"It was your idea," Clark asks, once the waitress has brought their food, "Wasn’t it? Being Robin?"

Dick’s not an idiot, he already knew what this would be about, but he’s a bit blind-sided by that being Clark’s opening. Is that not obvious?

"Well, yeah. B kept trying to lock me in my room."

Clark blinks. "He did?"

"Not all the time," Dick says, rolling his eyes, several years now out of patience for everyone immediately assuming the worst of Bruce. "Just when he went on patrol, ‘cause I kept following him."

"Right." Clark hesitates, then visibly decides not to ask any follow-up questions. On that topic, anyway. "But he changed his mind?"

Dick hums, non-committal. The first couple months of being Robin are pretty hazy, now. He’s starting to suspect something in his ability to form long-term memories has gone permanently wrong. "I wore him down, yeah. It’s not– I know it was a bad idea, okay. But it’s not like anyone else could copy me."

"Really," Clark says, one eyebrow raised. "No one your age looks up to you?"

Dick rolls his eyes again. It’s rude, but Clark is usually smarter than this. "Obviously kids look up to Robin, but kids look up to loads of people, and actually doing this as a kid is hard. A shit ton of adults have the means to be heroes, and there’s still only a dozen of you, and at least adults can drive."

"That’s why it’s hard? Because you can’t drive?"

Dick takes a long sip of his milkshake, to give himself a moment to imagine a world where not being able to drive is his biggest problem.

"It’s hard," he says, "because I want to believe people are good and kind and compassionate, and every night I go out and on purpose seek out proof I’m wrong. Because it’s not even that I’m wrong, it’s that it’s easier to be shitty. Caring hurts. It really, really hurts." He takes another sip of his milkshake. "But you know that. You know exactly what I mean."

Clark lets out a heavy breath, and doesn’t say anything.

Dick steals one of his fries. "The problem isn’t if I’m old enough," he continues. "No one’s old enough. Could Bruce have put me in therapy instead?" He shrugs. "Probably, but it only would’ve worked if he quit too. And then everyone we’ve saved since would be dead, or worse. And we’re already worse. I can’t imagine anyone being able to talk me into being okay with that, with letting other people go through that."

The look on Clark’s face isn’t one Dick’s really seen before. It’s not one he’s enjoying seeing now. "You realise everyone else’s problems shouldn’t be your responsibility?"

"Sure," Dick replies, easily, brightly. "What else have I got, then? If I’m not allowed to help? My parents are dead, and I’m not. I should just keep going anyway? Go to school, see my friends, watch TV and do my homework?" He steals another fry. "Because that’s what they’d want, right, for me to be happy, and pretending like them being dead doesn’t make me want to set things on fire will start to look like happiness if I just do it long enough. Maybe I’ll forget what it’s like to not want to die, and then that can be what happiness is."

Now Clark looks like Dick just sucker-punched him, if Dick happened to be holding a fistful of kryptonite. It’s a long moment, before he speaks. Dick drinks more of his milkshake.

"You’re thirteen," is what Clark manages. "You shouldn’t have to think like that."

Dick wonders what Clark was doing, at thirteen.

This is the root of the problem, really, with Clark and with Diana – sure, both of them have their scars, but none of those scars are older than their adult teeth. Figuratively speaking, anyway; Dick doesn’t know if either of them actually had two sets of teeth. Maybe Kryptonians just keep growing new teeth, like sharks. It’d be rude, probably, to ask.

Anyway, they’re not Bruce. They got a whole childhood.

And Dick doesn’t want to say that, because he can never say it to anyone, because it wakes the thing in his chest up. He just grins, instead, brittle and bitter, and steals another handful of fries.

"That’s the problem the League has," Clark continues. "We know exactly what has to happen to someone, to set them on this path, and we don’t want to admit it happens to children."

"Other children," Dick can’t help but correct. Clark flinches, just barely noticeable. "Was there a point to this, or did you just need me to confirm what you already knew?"

"You’re thirteen," Clark says again.

"Yeah. And the other night I got two girls away from their shitheel of a dad," Dick says, "And they’re four and six."

Clark changes the subject, after that.

[elareine]

If you could, can you please write JayTim or RoyTim (whichever one you want) trying to be romantic and woo Tim (maybe with some puns, I love puns), but Tim is a bit oblivious towards it, because the other is so cool, therefore they must be trying to make friends and be nice with him and nothing more. So when he does finally realize its an italicized "Oh" moment.

Hi lovely!! Thank you for waiting so patiently for this fill. I... ended up making it JayRoyTim, I hope that's okay? It just fit so well, but I can totally write something else with JayTim or RoyTim for you if you want :)

Also, it turned out to be about pick-up lines more than wooing, sorry. I might’ve gone overboard with googling the puns. It's long enough that I put it on ao3, too. What's your username on there? Then I'll gift it to you.

if you were a transformer (you’d be optimus fine)

“Well, here I am.”

Tim looks up, utterly confused. “I didn’t call for you, but… that’s… great?”

Roy waggles his eyebrows. It looks faintly disturbing. Redheads should maybe not do that. Or, actually, Tim revises mentally, thinking of literally every other redhead Dick ever dated—that’s just Roy. “What are your other two wishes?”

“Coffee and some silence to finish working this case?”

Roy looks weirdly deflated at that, but he does get him some coffee. Tim soon forgets about it.

—

(“How’d it go?”

“Does obliviousness run in the family?”

“Yes. Yes it does. Have you met Bruce?”

“…okay, fair. Your turn next.”)

—

“Jason? What’re you doing here?”

Sure, Jason and Roy have been spending a lot more time in Gotham lately. Something to do with a case, Tim assumes. Maybe even with the one that they worked on together in Star City five months ago?

Anyway. They’ve been around, is what Tim is saying. Not at the manor, but at Tim’s apartment and his workspace, cause apparently it’s not worth rebuilding their safe house after it went up in flames, and Bruce and Damian are too often at Dick’s place. He’s not exactly surprised to see either of them anymore. (Pleased, yes. But not surprised.) However, Tim has no fucking clue why Jason is currently grinning at him from the other side of the library desk.

At least Tim has the good sense to check his name tag before he gasps: “Jason?”

“Oh, hey, Tim.” Jason’s grinning. “Guess you figured out my new job, huh?”

“Yeah.” Tim shakes his head. “Color me surprised.” So this is what Jason’s spending his days doing. He’s gotta be shadowing someone, right? Tim’ll ask him tonight.

“I’ve always liked this place.” Jason’s gaze is far away for a moment. Tim badly wants to know what he’s remembering. Then the older man seems to come back to himself and gives Tim a weird—maybe angry?—look. “It’s a good thing I’m a librarian, too, cause I’m totally checking you out.”

“Alright, I can take a hint.” Tim grabs his book and demonstratively walks over to the self-service scanners. Really. How rude.

—

(“Are you telling me he managed to resist you in your cardigan?”

“Apparently.”

“Aww. C’mere, babe.”)

—

So Roy blows things up all the time. No, really, Tim now totally understands why Dick was so happy when he heard the duo is camping out at Tim’s place for a change. His older brother even gave Tim a thumbs-up, for God’s sake. He must’ve known.

Cause yeah, there’s at least one explosion every two days. Or Roy dropping something cause he’s too focused on what he’s thinking to remember what his hands are doing. Or something dropping on him. Jason seems used to it; he just catches whatever it is or laughs at Roy. Tim… is starting to learn to do the same, actually. Whatever Roy comes up with at that moment is usually worth it, and besides, he’s kinda adorable.

Aaaaaaanyway. (He’s using that word a lot in his own thoughts right now. Almost as if he’s avoiding thinking about something. Hmm.) Tim’s not surprised when Roy walks into a room, stumbles, and slaps a hand over his eyes with a dramatic exclamation.

Tim, in shorts and not much else cause he got drenched in pollen earlier, just raises an eyebrow. “Alright, Roy?”

“Nope.” Roy’s hand is still covering his face, but Tim can still see his grin underneath. “I’m gonna need your name and phone number for insurance purposes.”

“Roy. You have both of these things,” Tim explains slowly, wondering if Roy sustained a brain injury or accidentally dosed himself on something. “And why insurance?”

“I was blinded by your beauty.”

God. Sometimes Tim wonders about the original Titans and their socialization for the two dudes if this is how they think making friends works. Then again, Kori, Donna, and Dick probably appreciated constant compliments about their beauty. It all makes sense. Roy must be so used to it that he even uses those same methods when someone unexceptional like Tim is around.

He smiles gamely. “I’m looking forward to hearing that phone call. Must be almost as great as the time Bruce tried to convince his insurance company that Clark dropping on his car wasn’t an act of God because God is demonstrably not a Kryptonian. Neither was the giant ape punching Clark out.”

Roy drops his hand at that. “…Batman did what?”

—

(“You were doing so well, too.”

“I knoooow. How much more obvious can we get?”

“I dunno, but I intend to try.”)

—

“Do you like Star Wars? Because Yoda only one for me!”

“Haha. No. Star Trek or die.” Tim’s answer is automatic. He’s had these discussions soooo many times with Kon before. Of course Jason also goes for the space cowboy soap opera.

Besides, Jason’s boyfriend is standing right next to him. He doesn’t mean to sound flirtatious with Tim. Or maybe he does, and it’s just good fun? Or maybe teasing him? Tim can’t figure it out, but he knows he doesn’t like the weird hollow feeling he gets in his stomach when he thinks about it, so he changes the topic.

And makes both of them sit down to watch some classic Captain Kirk, of course.

—

(“Should I be insulted by that pick up line?”

“Nah. There aren’t that many lines that imply a polycule, though.”

A kiss. “Alright.”)

—

One of the things Jason and Tim have in common is their predilection for motorbikes and fiddling around with them. Not that makes them unique in the batclan; Tim has never spent days quietly working side-by-side with Dick, though, the way he does with Jason. They started out with separate projects. Then Jason saw this vintage Ducati at an abandoned warehouse he was about to blow up and, well… Would be a shame, right? Tim just happens to have had one of these before—regrettably lost to one of Harley’s exploding baseball bats—so he offers his expertise.

It’s not because it means bending over the engine with Jason, closer than they ever are, their hands brushing when they hand each other instruments. It’s not.

Roy doesn’t join them. He’s too polite to say so, but he finds normal cars and bikes boring af. Doesn’t stop him from popping his head into the garage and whistling when he sees that they are shirtless and covered in grease. It’s a damn good look on Jason, so Tim can’t fault him for that.

Roy follows it up with a: “Are you a parking ticket? Cause you got fine written all over you.”

Tim can’t help it; he blushes at the suggestive tone. Those two never stop flirting with each other, do they? So far, he has managed to avoid stumbling over them while they’re making out (not that they’re making that easy—the kitchen? Really?), and he’d like to keep avoiding that, thank you very much. He’s already feeling guilty enough for his fantasies as it is.

“Uh. I should clean up,” he mumbles and flees.

—

(“Dammit.”

“…do you think that was a rejection?”

“Nah. He was definitely checking me out before you came and fucked it up.”

“That’s saying something if you noticed it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”)

—

So Tim has magically acquired cat ears and a very fluffy tail. Don’t ask. They’re gonna go away in eight hours, and until then, he’s gonna stay in the cave and work himself to distraction. Jason seems intent on keeping him company, though.

(It’s nice. Tim loves hanging out with Jason—that’s not the problem. The issue is that Tim is looking ridiculous, and Jason is being nice about it, and none of this is helping his stupid crush go away.)

They’re absently chatting about nothing until Jason says: “Kinda a pity you’re a cat, though.”

Tim looks up. Huh? Admittedly, he never pegged Jason as the type to go for catboys (though maybe… he did hang out with Kyle… perhaps it’s just that he definitely doesn’t go for Tims), but that’s still a weird pronouncement.

Jason is grinning. “If you were a chicken, you’d be impeccable.” He pauses. “Wait. Like even more than you already are. Uh.”

Tim sighs. Great. And now Jason is making fun of him again. “Whatever.”

—

(“A chicken?”

“Shut up. I panicked.” A sigh. “He was so cute with these ears.”

“…yeah, he was.”)

—

“You must be tired. You’ve been running through my mind all night.”

“I’m not tired,” Tim says automatically. Why does everyone keep asking him that tonight? Surely the shadows under his eyes can’t be that bad? He used concealer!

Something in Roy’s expression softens. “Aww. C’mere.” He pats the space on the couch next to him, and when Tim sits down, Roy pulls him half of on top of him and into a hug. “Relax for a bit, little bird.”

Tim sinks into the embrace, boneless all of a sudden. Roy just has that effect on him. Tim vaguely remembers thinking of him as his oldest brother’s cool friend and then Jason’s cool boyfriend, kind of a fuckboy but clearly good for Jay.

Now? Now, Roy just makes him feel safe.

—

(“So you spent the night on the couch just so he could sleep in your arms?”

“Yeah. Totally worth it.”

“Duh.”

“I just wish we could do that with him every night. Bet he fits perfectly between us.”

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“We might have to up the ante or switch tactics.”)

—

They’re talking about their favorite books—Tim doesn’t read as much as Jason does, but they discovered a shared love of sci-fi weeks ago—when Tim says: “Actually, that book kinda reminds me of you.”

“Oh?”

“Overly dramatic but good.”

Jason makes an offended noise, and Tim grins.

“I’m not sure which part I should argue about first.” Jason pretends to think.

Tim is always down to tell Jason that fuck his self-perception—Jason is a good man, one of the best Tim knows; that also feels too revealing right now. Instead, he gets up from their comfortable position on the couch and grabs the first stack on the table, carrying them over to the shelves to replace the gaps. “What kind of book would I be?”

“Babe, if you were words on a page, you’d be fine print.”

“Annoying and no one reads it?” Tim asks without turning around, trying to ignore the babe. That’s. That’s gotta be a slip of the tongue, right? Force of habit from spending so much time with Roy?

“No, fine,” and the emphasis is clear this time. Jason continues before Tim can reply: “Though if we’re talking books…”

Tim whirls around. “Save it. You don’t have to make fun of me just because I—“He swallows down the words.

Jason looks alarmed. “Tim—“

As if he can smell trouble, Roy chooses that moment to enter the room. Tim has barely heard him approach, Jesus. He doesn’t want to have this argument in front of Roy, though, so he just stands there in the middle of the room. Jason, too, has stopped speaking.

Roy, of course, takes one look at the awkwardness and decides to make it worse. Or more confusing.

“Did you just come out of the oven?” he asks.

“As this isn’t Hansel and Gretel, no, I didn’t.” Tim checks his shirt, just in case this is an actual conversation opener and not just a weird attempt at a distraction. “Do I have soot on me?”

“Nope.” Roy shakes his head, and he’s smiling that smile again, the one Tim is startled to recognize, the one he thought is reserved only for Jason— “Because you’re hot.”

And finally, Tim gets it. “Me?”

“Yes, Tim.” Roy’s moving in closer. “You.”

There’s a soft touch to Tim’s shoulder, and Tim whirls around, expecting Jason to be mad, cause his boyfriend is—is hitting on Tim, right, that’s what’s happening, Jason can’t be happy—

Jason is smiling down at him. His hand is still resting on Tim’s shoulder, but it slides down to his collar bone, a gentle presence as he murmurs: “You’re so beautiful that you made forget my pick up line.”

Oh. Oh.

Tim says the first thing he can think of: “Are you a raisin?”

Jason starts grinning. “I’m not even gonna qualify that with an answer.”

Tim smiles back. “Cause you’re raising my hopes for a kiss right about now.”

And he gets one. And then another, and then Roy joins in, kissing Tim’s neck and then his mouth and—Yeah.

They’re too busy for any more pick up lines right now.

[magmagicstyle]

DON’T START NOW

*HURT/COMFORT*

Pairings: Bruce Wayne x male!reader, Clark Kent x male!reader

The reader and Bruce used to date until he messed up. Not being able to handle the idea of being in the same city as the millionaire, the reader goes away. Luckily for him, in his new city, there’s a nice and a bit nerdy journalist ready to make his heart flutter again. 

A/N: Hey! It’s been awhile… the only thing I can say to justify me: college is hard, kids… 

 If you don't wanna see me 

You really thought that the relationship was going to last until you both were old and you could see the children have kids and that the kids would call you grandpa. Of course, reality proved you wrong at the moment you saw him fucking Selina Kyle in the bed that was supposed to be yours and his. Her moans and cries of pleasure were quite irritating, the way he grunted and moved against her body while she made noises that made her sound like a cat in heat was so disgusting for you, it made you feel sick. The worst part wasn’t the fact that it was your first anniversary, it wasn’t the fact that he was doing this in your bed, in the bed where you laid with him a lot of times and just whispered “I love you” while he smiled and whispered “I love you” in response. No, that wasn’t the worst part, the worst part of being cheated on, was that you knew that this wasn’t the first time and that he was saying “I love you” towards her. 

Did a full 180, crazy

Thinking 'bout the way I was

Did the heartbreak change me? Maybe

But look at where I ended up

I'm all good already

So moved on, it's scary

I'm not where you left me at all, so

If you don't wanna see me dancing with somebody

If you wanna believe that anything could stop me

“Well, it seems that I’m not needed.” You said quite loudly while you entered the room and closed the door behind you. Your face was stone cold while you looked at the bastard that had the nerve to cheat on you and at the bitch that called herself your best friend. 

Bruce's face was a poem, surprise, embarrassment, maybe a little bit of guilt, but… was it guilt for cheating on you with the woman who called herself your friend? Or was it guilt that came for being caught in the act? Selina looked scared, guilty, even sad; at that moment you didn’t care enough about her. If she was going to feel guilty, she shouldn’t have fuck your fiance in the first place.

You opened the closet and grabbed two suitcases. They were Bruce’ suitcases but, to be honest, he had more than enough money, so he could buy more if he wanted to do it and well, you deserved to take something after being treated like a fool. You put them on the floor and opened them, then you started to grab your clothes and put them inside the suitcases. After you finished you grabbed a backpack and started pulling your jewels, electronics and important things that were inside the bathroom or around the room. 

“(Y/N)...” Bruce said, he was sitting in the bed, a sheet was carefully hanging around his waist and Selina had another sheet around her naked body.

“Don’t worry, I will leave and you will do whatever you want, Brucie…” you said coldly, making fun of the stupid nickname his lovers had used before he started to date you. After all, you knew that he hated that nickname, it made him feel shallow and like an idiot, but if he was going to act like it, he deserved to be called by that nickname. 

“Goddammit, (Y/N), I didn’t mean this to happen, not like this…” He said while standing up and grabbing your shoulder to turn you around.

That sentence and his touch combined made you snap. You were trying to be cold, trying to end this quickly because this way, you thought, it wouldn’t hurt as much as it did. You tried to ignore the crushing pain that you were feeling over your heart being broken in a thousand pieces. You were trying so hard while you picked up the things that only helped you to remember about the times when you thought you two were happy and in love. You tried so hard but he wasn’t making this easy, he was going and acting like it was nothing. Like he didn’t just destroy your life together because he decided to think with his cock. You tried but you couldn’t accept him acting like this was nothing. So you turned around and looked at him with eyes full of pain, hate and tears pouring from them. 

“And how did you expect this to happen? Tell me, Bruce. In which way did you expect me to find out about you fucking the whore that I thought was my friend? Enlighten me, Bruce, because I have no idea.” You said, while your voice was sounding so bitter and crushed.

“Do not call her a whore” He said, jaw locked and frown in his face. Of course, Bruce the hero to the rescue, you thought feeling even more hurt (if that was even possible). Of course, he was acting like you calling Selina a whore was the biggest sin in the world like he didn’t decide to throw away all your time together just for a nice fuck. 

“Oh, sure, because you love her, I forgot about that detail, right Bruce? Because you fucking love her, and I’m here, like an idiot thinking that you still loved me!” You yelled, slapping his hand away, making him look so shocked by your reaction. But let’s be honest, what did he expect? Did he think that you would just laugh this off and call it a day? Of course not, you were hurt, and you weren’t willing to stay with him anymore, so you turned around again and grabbed the rest of your things.

“(Y/N)... I…” Selina tried to call you, to tell you whatever excuse was in her mind but you stopped her by turning and looking at her with pure hate in your eyes.

“Shut up, you fucking bitch... what? You didn’t want this to happen, right? You couldn’t help yourself, right? Don’t fucking look at my face and lie to me” You finished saying this and turned around closing your suitcases and standing them up so you could easily grab them and leave the place.

“(Y/N)! Stop, I won’t let you talk to her this way.” Bruce said, clearly angry at you, but you didn’t care, you were hurt, he hurt you and he didn’t care about it, he only cared about his lover. 

“Oh, boo hoo, so sad, Brucie is angry at me for insulting his whore, what am I going to do? Let me think...” you said while moving and putting your hand under your chin, pretending to think for a few seconds while you faced him. Suddenly, the ring on your left hand shined and made you notice it, almost like a divine sight.

“Now I know! I’ll fucking leave.” You said and took off the engagement ring. Then you threw the ring towards Selina and grabbed your suitcases, turning around one last time and walking towards the door of the bedroom. 

“Have fun with your boyfriend, Selina, well, of course, until he cheats on you with one of your friends… wait, you don’t have friends so you will be fine, right?” You said and walked until you were outside of that hellish mansion. 

“Master (Y/N)!” You heard Alfred yell and walk towards you. He looked quite regretful and sad, and even if you wanted to be able to lash out to him, to ask and yell at him for not telling you or not keeping Bruce under control. Even if you wanted to be able to blame someone else besides the man that you thought loved you. You knew that you couldn’t blame him for not being able to control every step Bruce took.  

“Alfred… tell the kids that if they want to, they can call me any time… and also, if you need me to play chess, have some tea and talk, call me.” You said with a sad smile on your face and hugged the man. Alfred hugged you back and just let out a deep sigh, then he gave you the keys of one of Bruce’s cars. 

“Alfred?” you asked confused.

“A car cannot replace a broken heart, but it can be useful to pursue a new life and also, Master Bruce deserves a little punishment for acting like a dumb teenager.” He said and helped you put the suitcases in the trunk of the car. 

“Goodbye, Alfred.” You said with a soft chuckle.

“Goodbye, Master (Y/N)”

At that moment you hoped on the car and started to drive, you didn’t know your destiny but you just knew that you didn’t want to be anywhere close to Bruce and Selina.

Don't show up, don't come out

Don't start caring about me now

Walk away, you know how

Don't start caring about me now

Aren't you the guy who tried to

Hurt me with the word "goodbye"?

Though it took some time to survive you

I'm better on the other side

I'm all good already

So moved on, it's scary

I'm not where you left me at all, so

You were in Metropolis. After what happened, obviously, the media of Gotham started to talk about the hot news and “the dazzling couple” of the moment. Some people thought that Bruce was an asshole for dating a woman just after your breakup, even talking about how the breakup was probably due Bruce being a playboy unable to keep it in his pants. Other people supported his choices and thought that it was a good thing that Bruce stopped acting so, like they said, “delicate”, obviously wanting to say gay. The other group didn’t care enough about the topic. But even if some people supported you, every newspaper, magazine, or tv was talking about the new couple, about how good they looked together and just stuff like that, and if you had to be honest, you weren’t comfortable with the idea of seeing your ex and his lover in every part of the city, 

So you left. You left Bruce's car with Dick and then bought a plane ticket and just flew to the nearest city that you could think of, and that was Metropolis. You started to get more modelling work there and decided to concentrate more in your career since you couldn’t do that while dating Bruce. Then you just started to get invited to different parties. So, in hopes of forgetting about Wayne and Kyle, you kept going to the parties, drank different things, and even tried some drugs, always being careful so you wouldn’t end up being addicted to something. You danced around with other celebrities, and the Metropolis’ newspapers that also talked about Bruce and Selina at first, started to talk about you and how you became a party spirit after being “freed” from Bruce’s claws.  

The media in Metropolis stopped portraying Bruce as a guy who was freed from you, and started to see you as a model who gained his freedom and his humour back after being cheated on (yes, the rumors about Bruce’s affair became so strong that now all the media commented about it like it was a fact, which it was, but nobody had real evidence besides you and the couple). Some girls took you as an example of self-love and improvement after a bad relationship and in general, after a bad period of time. Obviously, this meant that you had more work as a model and that you even got invited to some tv shows. Your agent even told you that this was the perfect opportunity to publish some of the stories and novels that you had written a few years ago, so you did. Of course, this also was something that caught the newspaper’s attention, after all, they didn’t have the opportunity to talk about how the ex boyfriend of a millionaire was a model, writer, and one of the most liked persons in the whole city. This helped you to get your head off Selina and Bruce and just helped you to get better in general, so you kept going to different shows, took more work, published more stories and just enjoyed your time in this new city. 

This didn’t mean that you had forgotten everything about your life in Gotham, the kids called you from time to time, to know about you, to see if someday they could travel and visit you or to just hear your voice once more. And, to be honest, you were so glad that they didn’t forget about you after your breakup with Bruce, even Alfred called you from time to time, to see if you were planning to go back to Gotham so you and he could have a nice play of chess. But, every time you answered that even if you were feeling better and you were doing just fine in Metropolis, you weren’t sure if you wanted to go back to Gotham, not even for a visit. Still, after saying this, you told him that no matter what he could go to Metropolis to see you with the kids and that your house’s door would always be opened for them.

As soon as you offered that, they accepted it so from time to time, the kids or Alfred, or even the whole group came around to spend time with you. Of course, you loved to go to parties with the older ones and go to amusement parks with the young boys, but one of the best things was having movie nights together. Just cuddling in the couch of your living room, while enjoying some tasty and healthy (you are fun but also need to take care of your shape to maintain your career) snacks. They didn’t talk about their father and the last thing you knew from them about him was that they had fought over his stupidity. Usually you would act like the peacemaker between them but that wasn’t your job anymore and if you had to be honest, you weren’t interested in working for Bruce again. 

If you don't wanna see me dancing with somebody

If you wanna believe that anything could stop me

(Don't, don't, don't)

Don't show up, don't come out

Don't start caring about me now

Walk away, you know how

Don't start caring about me now ('Bout me now, 'bout me)

You met him at one of your parties. A few months prior you started to host parties and not only attend them like you were doing before. After all, hosting parties was a good opportunity to meet more people that worked in the same field as you and that could help you get more gigs or other types of opportunities. This was one of the most “open to the public” types of parties, some people from the media, famous models, actors, singers, or just the socialites of Metropolis.

When you saw him, the first thing you thought was that he looked quite charming, handsome and even a bit sexy.  Even if, when you saw him, it was just after he was being dumped by a black-haired woman, that you supposed was his (now) ex-girlfriend, in a gorgeous dress; he looked quite charming. In fact, if you had to be honest with yourself, the sight of him being all confused and almost looking like a sad puppy, was quite adorable. So, not wanting to see this handsome and cute man sad anymore, you made your way towards him, grabbing two glasses of wine on your way and just thinking about what you could do to make him smile again, knowing that he probably had the most beautiful smile ever. While you walked towards him, you had to give your greetings to different people that were dancing or drinking around the place. Some of them looked at you with envy and others with desire, it didn’t matter, you only had had for the blue eyed beauty. 

“Hey there, mister…” You said with a little smile on your face while you stopped in front of him, offering one glass to the black haired man and hoping that he was kind enough to tell you his name. 

“Kent, Clark Kent…” He said, while grabbing the glass and looking a little bit awkward. His reaction made you think that maybe he was quite shy around strangers, or maybe being in a party like this wasn’t exactly his scene. Well, you couldn’t blame him, parties weren’t your scene before you started to go to more of them.

If you had to be honest, he really looked like a lost puppy. This fact was making you want to cuddle him and protect him from the psychos (and probably, ex-girlfriends) that lived in this world (luckily for you, most of the psychos lived in Gotham). In fact, you actually cooed towards him and showed him a delicate and caring smile, making him blush softly, and give you a little but nervous smile. You were right, even this type of smile from him, was so gorgeous.

“I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you, Mr Kent,” You said and raised your glass making a little toast. “For our meeting” You finished with a smile on your face and a soft gleam in your eyes, looking quite happy.

“Oh, sure…” He said, also raising his glass. “Wait… (Y/N)? Like the model?” He looked at you directly with a surprised expression on his face.

“The one and only.” You answered with a smirk, loving the fact that he wasn’t polite or kind when you talked to him first because he knew who you were but mostly because that was the way he was. You were done with all the fake people around you that only cared about your new fame and your reputation.

“It’s so good to meet you, thank you so much for the invitation.” He said with a big smile on his face and a soft but amusing gleam on his eyes. Alright, you had to admit that his smile made your heart skip a beat and well,  maybe he wasn’t only a shy puppy like you thought at first. “To be honest, in my work we’ve been trying to get an interview with you for a while… but as you obviously know, you seem to be quite busy.” He said with a soft but deep chuckle, and lord, what a nice and deep voice he had.

“Well, if you are so thankful and want to have an interview… I could use some company,” you said with a little and sly smile while putting your hand on his arm and trying to hide the soft gasp that wanted to escape from your lips when you felt his hard muscles under your touch.

“It would be my pleasure.” He answered you with a smile and offered his arm for you to hang from him, his smile turning into a playful smirk while he noticed your surprise thanks to his body, feeling the sudden need to know you better, to talk to you and maybe, just maybe, to kiss you.

You gave him a little but honest smile. Your eyes shone with the expectations of meeting someone that seemed as interesting as Clark. Inevitably your mind started to wonder about the fact that maybe Clark wasn’t a puppy but a nice wolf ready to play with you if you asked for it. That only thought turned your little smile into a playful one, and in that moment you thought that maybe this party was going to be more promising than what you thought at first.

Up, up

Don't come out, out, out

Don't show up, up, up

Don't start now (Oh)

Up, up

Don't come out, out

I'm not where you left me at all, so

“Babe… babe… baby… honey… love… bunny… Baby!” You said with a soft and a bit needy whine.

“Yes, hun?” Clark said with a small smile on his face, magnificent deep voice making you smile inevitably and since his dark-framed glasses were resting in the little nightstand, his gorgeous blue eyes were looking directly at you while his fingers caressed your cheek.

“Do you really have to go today? Can’t you just… stay here and rest with me? Maybe have some grown-up fun.” You said with a smirk that had the intention of being seductive. 

Of course, calling sex as ‘grown-up fun’ made your boyfriend laugh softly. After all, with you, talking about just fun could be anything, sex, play a video game, run around your house with nerf guns or even, just lay on your bed while cuddling was fun for you. You were just like that, you didn’t need a lot of things or fancy stuff to be happy together and that was so special in your relationship. When you were together, you didn’t need to be the perfect model and the shy but smart journalist, you didn’t need to keep appearances or try to impress the people around you. Clark didn’t need to be the wonderful and perfect hero that he was in front of the citizens when he was showing himself as Superman and you didn’t need to act like a crazy party model, and that was just so perfect. Besides, Dick, Jason, Tim and even Damian loved him. You weren’t sure why they warmed up to him so quickly but you accepted it when they told you that you would know with time. 

“I have to go… you know this mission is important and that the team needs me…” He said with a soft sigh, caressing your face and hair, getting closer to you so you were almost laying on top of him, since you were already cuddling. 

“I can cuddle for a couple of minutes but then I have to fly…” He said with a relaxed smile, knowing that this was going to be enough to keep you happy for a couple of minutes before he had to go. 

Clark hated the idea of leaving you. The idea of going away from home to fight some villain was quite awful for him, since it meant that he was going to leave you alone and unprotected. But he knew that he needed to be there, and he knew that deep down you understood him. After all, he really loved helping people and you were so proud of him because of that.

You knew that Clark was Superman. He had told you about it after you decided to make your relationship official. So, one of your date nights, while you were cuddling in your bed and watching a movie, he had confessed everything. Of course, at first it was hard to believe, almost thinking that he was making some weird type of joke, but after he explained more and showed you that he wasn’t joking, you began to understand different things about his behaviour and his weird explanations for the sudden “work trips”. 

So, you were aware of his different fights and at some point you decided that you weren’t going to just stand there while he fought the bad men and got hurt from time to time. This meant that you decided to help him. Of course, when you told him that you were going to aid him he got quite mad. The idea of you putting yourself in danger just so you could help was something that he did not wish for. So, the fight between the two of you kept going until you talked about the things you thought you could do to help and he realised that you weren’t talking about fighting by his side, but to help him recover from injuries and to write some of the articles he had to do for his daily job. Eventually he accepted the idea and everything was alright again.

Just as he had promised, Clark stayed with you for a few minutes before flying away. You let out a soft sigh and sat down on the bed, knowing that even if your boyfriend was strong and probably more powerful than whoever villain he was going to fight, you couldn’t help but to get worried for his safety. After a few minutes -or half an hour, but who counted, right?- of you worrying for him, you decided to stand up and start to cook for the next day. You were planning to do something simple like a pie or a cake, after all, you wanted to be able to concentrate on the mail meal tomorrow and this was the best way to do so. Clark and you had planned a nice day so he could introduce you to the league and you thought that the best way to do it was to let you host the meeting. You wanted everything to be just perfect, after all, you knew that the league wasn’t only Clark’s colleagues, but also his friends, and you wanted to be accepted with them since the two of you were dating for almost a year. 

If you don't wanna see me dancing with somebody

If you wanna believe that anything could stop me

Don't show up (Don't show up), don't come out (Don't come out)

Don't start caring about me now ('Bout me now)

Walk away (Walk away), you know how (You know how)

Don't start caring about me now (So)

Clark was by your side, his caring and big hands on your waist while you let your back lean on his chest. The two of you were standing in front of a mirror, and while Clark wasn’t wearing the glasses that kept his hero persona hidden, he was in civilian clothes. You were also wearing casual clothing, comforting yourself in his touch while you tried to relax and just avoid the nervousness that was creeping over your throat.

“Everything is going to be fine… they are going to love you, really” Clark said with a big and relaxed smile on his face, trying to calm you while he caressed your body over your clothes.

“Are you sure? Maybe what I cooked won’t be tasty enough… or maybe they hate the dessert… or... “ You started to ramble while leaning even closer to Clark. It was almost as if you were trying to hide under his touch.

“Stop, they are going to love you just as much as I do…” He stopped you in the middle of your rambling, leaving soft kisses on the side of your face and then pulled away, making you turn around so he could kiss your lips briefly. 

You were about to stand up on your toes so you could kiss him again but you stopped when you heard the doorbell ringing. You knew that this sound meant that the league was already on your doorstep, you weren’t sure who would be the first to arrive but you decided that you couldn’t postpone this situation anymore. So you took a deep breath, kissed your boyfriend one more time and then started to walk towards the door of your house, involuntary smiling when you heard Clark’s footsteps right behind you.

In front of you were a couple of people that had kind smiles on their faces. Diana and Barry, like Clark had introduced them to you, were quite kind and easy to talk to. As soon as they arrived they commented about how wonderful your house looked and they talked about the food smell that promised a wonderful meal. Soon enough the four of you were talking and enjoying each other's company while you waited for the rest of the league to arrive. You were in the middle of a story when you heard the doorbell. Clark, being the sweet heart that he usually is with you, went to open the door while you stood up and started to pour more drinks to your visits and the new guests. 

“Well, hun, apparently most of them decided to come at the same time…” Clark said with a chuckle while he entered the house with almost everyone from the league following him. 

“Well, this means that we can start serving lunch, don’t you think, babe?” You turned around with a smile on your face. Smile that disappeared from your face and couldn’t help but gasp while showing your surprise when you saw, not only the kids, but Bruce walking behind your boyfriend. Bruce also looked surprised, and if you had not lost your power to be able to interpret his expressions, he looked a bit horrified. 

“(y/n)?” He asked while looking directly at you, his eyes fixed in your figure standing a few steps away from him. 

You knew you looked different, you knew that seeing you in this house, with a new boyfriend, looking so relaxed and happy wasn’t something he expected. You knew that he didn’t wish for you to be unhappy, but he probably thought that you wouldn’t be able to love somebody in a long time. Oh, he was quite wrong about that. But being totally honest, he didn’t have a right to judge you in any way. After all, the breakup was because he couldn’t keep it in his pants while being with that woman. 

“You are Clark’s partner...?” He said after a few seconds. 

You knew he couldn’t judge you in any way. You knew he didn’t deserve a thing from you after all what he did. You knew all of this. But still, you couldn’t help but shiver while looking at the man that with his affair, pushed you to go away from your city and leave the kids that you considered yours. 

“Long time no see…” You finally said like an answer, while looking at the other man and walking closer to Clark. You man, noticing your reaction, walked the steps that were necessary until he was close enough to put his arm around your waist. It was clear. With this action, Clark was saying “back off”, he knew about your breakup, he wasn’t sure about the circumstances because the one time he asked you explained that you didn’t want to talk about it and he understood. But he knew that there was something wrong with the way you reacted towards Bruce and he wasn’t going to leave you by yourself while you were feeling insecure or bad about something. 

“Why…?” You started to ask while looking at the man in front of you. He was wearing a simple shirt and pants, it wasn’t totally casual but if you thought about it, Bruce was never casual. Still, his attire didn’t explain why he was there like it was fine, like he didn’t enter a place full of superheroes.

“Wait… Are you Batman?” You finally asked while looking at the man with big and a bit surprised eyes. 

Of course, when you were dating you had some suspicions. After all, the man tended to disappear in the middle of the night and then appeared like there was nothing happening. But at that moment, most of your thoughts were about him going to fix some problems in the office. After all, being the owner of a company as big as his wasn’t something easy. So when every time that you asked about him going away, he told you that he was working, you believed him. Certainly like a fool since he was lying to you straight to your face but, still, you believed in him. 

After that train of thoughts you couldn’t help but think about your kids, and then about the young heroes that were with Batman from time to time, and as easy as adding two plus two, you had the whole picture in your mind. At that moment you were ready to yell at him, to explode with rage towards the man who endangered your children without even caring if you knew about it or not. Because yes, your relationship with Bruce was brief and quite rushed (biggest example; being engaged to the man after months of dating) but since the moment you met the kids you knew that they were your children and that you had to protect them. You were ready to scream with anger towards him but you stayed quiet, not really because you wanted to, but because at that exact moment Bruce had no better idea than to talk again..

“I know that you already made all the connections about it but yes, (y/n), I’m Batman… now, care to explain why you are dating Clark?” He asked looking at you like you’ve done something bad. Like he had the right to judge you and lecture you about your love life.  

“Well, Bruce…” You started while putting your hand over Clark’s free hand, caressing the fingers that weren’t hugging your waist like he was ready to fly away at any moment. 

“I don’t really have to explain anything to you, you know? In fact, I feel like I’m the one who needs an explanation, maybe about the fact that you are my ex-fiancé and I didn’t know about your little hero persona, or about how you decided to hid from me the fact that my kids are also heroes and that they are in danger every night without me knowing about it…” You said while looking at the man that surprisingly looked a bit nervous under your gaze, then you looked at the children who shifted nervously and looked a bit scared when you told them that the conversation with them was going to be later. 

“(y/n), you are a civilian, if you knew about all the hero stuff, you would be in danger.” Bruce said in a tone that pretended to show him as calm and collected. But you knew him, at least, you knew this part of him. Bruce was scared, he was nervous because he didn’t even think about him being caught by you. Maybe he thought about you being so dumb that you never noticed the signs of him being Batman or maybe he just didn’t expect for you to discover him since you have broken up a while ago, in any case, it didn’t matter since you did discovered him. 

“Yeah, try another thing buddy… also, me being in a relationship with Clark? Because yes, Bruce, we are in a relationship, it isn’t your concern, you are my ex fiancé, because you wanted to be my ex fiancé, you ruined our relationship and that made me walk away…” You made a pause while you looked how he seemed almost hurt by your words. Clark’s hold on you became a bit more tight, but he didn’t say anything, knowing that you needed to do this by yourself so you could be calm again. He was also quiet because he was really surprised by the whole situation. To be honest, the whole group that was around you (except your kids because they knew that their father was an asshole towards you and they knew how the whole relationship ended) was watching the interaction with surprise in their eyes. After all, it was surprising the idea of seeing someone snap at Bruce and even more surprising the fact that he seemed affected because of it.

“So, Bruce… I won’t be against you being here and enjoying a nice evening with the league, children and my boyfriend… But I won’t allow you to come to my house and to demand for an explanation that you don’t deserve… are we clear?” You finished talking while crossing your arms over your chest and looking directly at the man that you could finally say was nothing to you. For a few seconds, Bruce remained in silence, looking at you with a frown on his face. Confusion, anger and maybe a bit of regret were all over his face in an expression that you couldn’t fully interpret. He almost seemed conflicted, but when you thought that he was going to argue with you, he just let out a sigh and looked at you with a sad smile.

“Yes, (y/n), thank you for inviting us to yours and Clark’s home…” He said towards you before nodding and starting to walk inside your living room. 

Soon enough, the children hugged you and after a few words of apology for keeping their secret identities from you, they walked inside the living room being followed by the rest of the league. All of them greeting you and complimenting the decorations of the house. The rest of the day was spent in the middle of conversations, eating food, you being complimented for your cooking skills, and fun stories that helped to clear the air between you and Bruce. You weren’t friends, you weren’t going to try to be friends, but at least you weren’t hostile towards one another and it was all thanks to the people around you. 

When the sunlight started to disappear and the food was almost over, the members of the league considered you a new friend and they slowly started to go towards their houses. After talking with the children, you came to the agreement that they were going to stay with Clark and you for the weekend. Then, when almost everybody was gone, you stood while leaning on the door frame of your house, Bruce was in front of you, looking directly towards you with a smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. He wasn’t faking the smile, but you knew that like before, this smile was full of sadness. 

“I lose you forever, right?” He asked softly, almost in a whisper and like a year ago, you remembered him whispering the same voice a quite adorable and caring ‘I love you…’ 

“Yes…” You answered and put your hand on his cheek, smiling towards him with the same sad and tired smile that you couldn’t help but to show him.

“Does he make you happy? Really happy?” He asked and you just closed your eyes while nodding before opening them again when you felt his hand caressing yours. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you… It’s good that you are happy and I hope that we see each other again...” He said before pulling away and starting to walk towards his car before going inside and driving away.

You weren’t friends, you probably would never be friends again, and you knew that he was sorry, that he missed you. But you were sure that he knew that he lost you at the moment he even thought about cheating on you. He knew that you weren’t going to be back with him, and that being back in your life would be hard and painful for you and him. So he did what he thought was for the best and walked away. If some day you wanted to give him an opportunity to be friends, he would be grateful and take it, but he wasn’t going to show up again to try to win you back just so he ended up ruining everything. He wasn’t going to hurt you again if he could avoid it. 

Up, up

Don't come out, out, out

Don't show up, up, up

Walk away, walk away (So)

Up, up

Don't come out, out, out

Don't show up, up, up

Walk away, walk away, oh

[miraculouspenta]

No longer Ice Cold

Continuation of "My Warmth Melted Your Heart"

Masterlist

Jaws were dropping in the floor. Beloved? Beloved? Did they hear that right? The Robin, son of Batman, had just called someone beloved? One look at the father they could tell that he didn’t know either. No use asking him. “Robin?” Batman called. “Yes, Father?” he answered nonchalantly. “Who is this ‘beloved’?” Batman asked his son. “Tt, I thought by the way I called her you would’ve known. She is the person I’m courting or ‘girlfriend’ in your language,” he answered his father once more. “YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME!” two people in the room shouted. Superboy and Nightwing to be exact.

“Why am I under the obligation to tell the both of you?” Robin asked raising an eyebrow. “I’m your brother!” Nightwing said. “And I’m your best friend, you usually tell them this stuff,” Superboy said. “Usually,” Damian pointed out. “Whoever the girl is she has to be a saint to put up with the demon,” Red Hood said ruffling the younger boy’s hair. “Don’t touch me!” Robin said. “Robin,” Red Robin started, “What’s your girlfriend’s name?” “Tt, as if I’d tell you. You want to do a background check on her,” Robin said. He cares about his girlfriend’s privacy you know.

“Let’s take this conversation somewhere else, shall we?” Superman said knowing that this discussion is better had somewhere more comfortable and possibly in civilian form. Batman agreed and told them to change and head to the Wayne Manor in 30 minutes. Okay, lie, he only invited the Supers and Wonder Woman. Diana, Clark, Jon, and Lois, which was brought there by her husband, arrive and settle down in the living room where they found Damian smiling at his phone. ‘Must be his girlfriend.’

“Damian,” Dick said, “Spill. The. Tea.” Damian sighed, “Does everyone have to be present?” “We all want to know, Damian!” Jon said bouncing up and down on the couch where they were sitting on. “Jon, manners,” Lois scolded. “Sorry, Mom,” he said. Damian sighed once more, “My girlfriend’s name is Marinette who also happens to be my pen pal. That should explain it.” He stood up and went to leave the room but was stopped by Jon, “Nu’uh, Dami. You are staying here.” “Tt.” Dick had started laughing, “Lil’ D got a friends to lovers love story.” “You mean that you know of this ‘Marinette’, Dick?” Bruce asked. He never heard of anyone named- ‘Oh, wait, never mind,’ he thought after remembering that Jagged had rambled on about his niece possessing that name.

“Yeah, B. She’s the friend Damian said he was texting last year. You know, the time you asked Alfred repeatedly if you heard right,” Dick answered making the everyone present laugh. Bruce had paused, “Damian, does the girl happen to be Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” Damian stared, “It actually does, Father. How did you know?” “I just remembered the time Jagged rambled about her,” his father said to which Damian gave a nod of understanding. Clark who was there with Bruce that day also knows what they were talking about.

“You are a lucky person, Damian,” Diana said, “That girl is special.” Yes, Diana knew Marinette. She works at Louvre Museum and Marinette visits her friend Alix there every so often, she was immediately charmed by the girl. Diana also knows her because she’d recognize the pair of earrings she always wears. She may or may not have claimed the younger girl to be her sister. “Since you know her, I’m assuming she’s from Paris,” Clark said to Diana. “She is,” Diana clarified, “She visits the Louvre a lot to see her friend, the daughter of the Egyptian section manager.”

“What is she like?” Jason asked. “Too selfless for her own good,” Diana said. Damian grinned, “Sounds like her alright.” They soon started talking about random topics and just as she was leaving, Diana pulled Damian aside. “Take care of my sister for me, Damian. I know that you know her secret and that she knows yours,” she said. “I will.”

673 words

And before you ask, no, there is no part 3. And fyi, my taglist, permanent or not, is always open!

XOXO ~𝓔𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓷

@miraculouslydumb

[soulmate-game]

Part 1

After the Discovery, things didn’t change as much as everyone thought they might. “Everyone” being just Marinette, of course.

She got a lecture from Lois about worrying her, and then a joke from the older woman about no longer having another non-hero in the house to team up with.

“Wait, Dad,” Jon spoke up after that comment from his mom, bobbing up and down on his heels. Both him and Clark had long since changed out of their costumes, which didn’t take long considering both of them having super speed. “Does this mean Mari can meet Damian? And is she going to join a hero team—“

“I already have a team, Jon,” Marinette interrupted, soft but firm at the same time. Two months was more than long enough to know that Jon could talk forever if he was allowed to. “Chat Noir, Viperion, Bunnyx, and Ryuuko are all Miraculous users like me,” she had already sat down and explained the bare basics of her abilities and the Paris situation. Lois had known better than to scold her, no matter how gentle the scolding was, before Marinette had a chance to say anything.

Clark blinked, looking between both of his kids. And yes, Marinette was well and truly one of his kids already. He couldn’t hold back a soft chuckle. “She can meet Damian when school starts back up again, Jon. We don’t want to rush anything,” he started out by telling his son. Marinette was still very jittery. Two months was nowhere near enough time to recover from the trauma of watching your parents die, after all.

(In fact, Clark thought, for some people not even a lifetime was long enough. Batman briefly came to mind as an example.)

The girl still had nightmares almost daily, and panic attacks that resulted in brief spans of mutism at least once a week. Those, at least, had severely decreased in frequency, but it was clear that she was far from ready to meet very many new people. Especially people like Damian Wayne, who was hard enough for someone in perfect mental health to handle even on a good day.

“And Marinette,” Clark switched over to his pseudo-daughter. “If you have that many teammates, surely they would understand that you need a break,” when Marinette didn’t meet his eyes, Clark felt dread build up in his stomach. “Marinette, they know about your parents, right?”

The girl fidgeted. Clark closed his eyes.

“Nobody knows my identity,” She admitted after a tense silence. “I know everyone else’s, even though I only found out Chat’s by accident. But they don’t know mine, and I can’t ask them to give me time off anyway.”

“Why not, honey?” Lois asked as gently as she could, picking up on the beginning signs of Marinette closing herself off. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything any of them could do to stop it. Marinette refused to meet any of their eyes, and even before she spoke her new family knew that they wouldn’t get anything else meaningful out of her about the Paris situation, at least for the day.

“They need me.”

Clark and Jon traded a look. That statement felt a bit too familiar for them. It was something they heard from a lot of heroes who tried to justify overworking themselves. It was something both of them had said before.

But they let the topic rest for the night. Pushing Marinette wouldn’t do any good for anybody.

—*—*—*—*—*

A week passed. Lois and Clark were sitting on the couch watching TV when Lois caught her husband’s eyes darting up to the ceiling. Sighing, she turned the volume down a few notches.

“Did she leave for Paris again?” She asked even though she already knew the answer. Clark nodded grimly.

“Yesterday she didn’t get back in until almost four in the morning,” he admitted, running a hand over his face. “And now, it’s already eleven and she’s just now heading out. I know she doesn’t want me or Jon going to Paris because of Hawkmoth’s magic, but…” he trailed off with his mouth set in a deep frown. Lois could only sigh and lean against his arm comfortingly.

“I know,” she breathed quietly.

“She can’t keep working herself to the bone like this, Lois. Sometimes she’ll head right over to Paris after a nightmare, like she needs to remind herself of something, but she always comes back in less than an hour in that case. But this— when she leaves to fight HawkMoth or patrol Paris before ever going to sleep in the first place— it’s like she’s trying to avoid the nightmares by overworking herself too much to even dream.”

“I know,” Lois rubbed a hand on Clark’s back in gentle circles.

“It reminds me of Batman sometimes,” Clark said, his voice filled with uncharacteristic defeat. “Marinette doesn’t get violent like Bruce, but… never sleeping, throwing herself into heroism, she even refers to Ladybug as if they are different people, Lois. I can’t always help Bruce since he’s a grown adult and more than capable of shutting me out when he wants to, but Marinette is our kid now. I’m just not sure how to help her.”

Lois took a deep breath. “Well, she’s not Bruce so you can’t just bait her into a spar to sort out her feelings,” she mused with faint humor. “But how about we start with sending Jon to Paris the next time you guys hear her leave? The sooner we figure out exactly what the situation and her relationship with her team is like, then maybe the sooner we can find some answers.”

Clark nodded, and looked back up to the ceiling. “I know you heard that, Jon. Don’t get in the way, and come back if Marinette finds you and tells you to. We don’t want her to think we don’t trust her.”

A beat passed, and Clark rolled his eyes fondly.

“Don’t forget to go to bed as soon as she gets back, Jon. I don’t want to deal with two overly exhausted children.”

A thump.

“I’m sixteen!” Jon yelled back, clearly for Lois’s benefit as his mom let out a short burst of laughter.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Ladybug!”

“Look, it’s Ladybug!” “Woo! Go ladybug!” “Could you beat this guy extra fast, Ladybug? I’m late for a meeting!”

People in the streets were shouting in French happily, pointing up at their resident spotted heroine. Some people groused at her in mild or fond annoyance, asking her to beat the Akuma-of-the-day a bit faster for various reasons or jokingly calling her a slow poke. Most people just got pictures or videos on their phones of her as best as they could, watching her swing by in awe and admiration.

It was familiar. Too, too familiar, and Jon made sure to get it all on camera. His parents would want to see this. The pair of contacts he was wearing, a gift from Red Robin, translated everything that was being said for him into helpful little English subtitles.

And there was his sister. Marinette had been tough to pin down, and this was Jon’s third time trying to follow her in Paris. The first time, the day after that late night discussion between his parents, ended in less than five minutes. Marinette caught him and sent him home firmly, which was followed by a heart-to-heart with all four of them when she got home.

She still refused to tell them anything more than the basics about Paris’s situation. For some reason, she seemed extremely reluctant to talk about it. She had no problem comparing experiences and hero jokes with him and his dad, but the moment they tried to talk about Paris-specifics, Marinette clammed up.

It was the second of Jon’s attempts to follow Marinette, just a week after the first, that brought up a possible reason. Because Jon had watched a civilian that he hadn’t been able to get to in time get pinned under a thrown car and killed—only for Ladybug’s powers to reverse all the damage and bring the man back to life.

Jon had raced back home right after that, not even giving Marinette the chance to see him. After relaying what had happened to his parents, they all agreed to one last tail. The pieces were already falling together, and none of them liked the picture they were painting. They wanted to confront Marinette as soon as possible. So here he was, another week later.

Jon kept recording throughout the fight, watching as Marinette clearly led her team. There was no mistaking that all her teammates respected her and treated her word as law. Even Chat Noir, who was Ladybug’s deputy, always referred to Ladybug’s opinion before issuing any orders. Civilians didn’t always flee the scene, taking their time as they tried to record the fight. And when the Akuma was beaten and only Ladybug made a move to catch the corrupted butterfly, the final pieces clicked into place. Jon managed to stay still long enough to catch the crowd of fans running forward, trying to mob Ladybug with pleas for autographs or statements or interviews, before he left. Ladybug’s team had acted as a buffer between her and the crowd anyway, so Jon was able to leave with a clear conscience.

When he walked into his house, already changed back into normal clothes, he waved his phone with a serious look on his face as both his parents waited anxiously.

“Yeah. This is pretty bad,” Jon warned them as he hooked his phone up to his laptop, and played the footage for them.

—*—*—*—*—*

When Marinette got home, it was to a clear intervention. Nervously detransforming, she looked to Tikki and back to her new family. The Kwami, who had previously just been explained away as the source of her powers, gently nudged the girl forward. She knew her holder needed this.

Clark and Lois gently explained why they asked Jon to follow her, explaining that they were all concerned about how badly she was overworking herself.

“You’re getting only three hours of sleep, and that’s on the days that you wake up with nightmares,” Clark’s

voice was quiet, begging her to listen. “Every other day, you teleport to what I can only hope is Paris every time, and you don’t come back for hours. Even if you spend that whole time fighting Akumas, you still only get an hour’s worth of sleep maximum when you get back. Sometimes you don’t even sleep at all until you collapse of exhaustion,” he leaned forward over the table, worry etched in every line on his face. “Marinette, we’re worried. We wanted Jon to see what the situation in Paris was like, because we thought that maybe it would explain why you seem to care about it more than your health. We didn’t know if it was just you needing to keep busy, or something else.”

“And you’re gone during the day too,” Lois added. “And we get that. HawkMoth attacks whenever he feels like, and we all understand if you have to disappear at odd times to fight his Akumas. But this is more than that, isn’t it?”

Marinette’s hands were clenched into fists, and tears were starting to bubble up in her eyes, but she didn’t say anything. Jon slowly approached her, waiting for her small nod before laying one of his larger hands over her fists and gently prying them open before she hurt herself. He kept his hands there, holding hers for both of their comfort.

“I took a video, today,” he admitted gently. “Dad already erased it from the laptop and my phone, don’t worry. But they— we all— needed to see it. The way Paris treats you, Marinette—“

“It’s like how Metropolis used to treat Superman. How they sometimes still do,” Lois interrupted, trying to get Marinette to meet her eyes. “We all thought that Superman showing up was the end of our problems. That as soon as he showed up, the villain or criminal or whatever that was causing us problems was done for. That he could save everyone,” Lois’s eyes grew melancholy. “But we had to learn the hard way that he’s not invincible, no matter how much he might seem like he is. We had to learn the hard way that nobody, no matter how strong or how many powers they have, can save everyone. The kind of trust we had in him before is toxic, Marinette. It’s toxic to us, because we stop being as careful as we should be if we think he’s always going to catch us. And it’s toxic to him, too.”

“How?” Marinette asked, her voice impossibly tiny and her eyes glittering with unshed tears as she darted her eyes between them. “They need someone to believe in. They— I make them feel safe. I— isn’t that good?”

“You feel like it’s your job to be there no matter what, right?” Clark asked, meeting her gaze with a warm, but firm one of his own. “That you have to do whatever it takes to win every battle, no matter what it costs you, because they believe you will. You start feeling like everyone you don’t save is your fault. And that’s not okay,” he stood up and Jon slowly backed away, allowing their father to kneel by Marinette and clasp one of her shoulders. “It always hurts. You might never forget the faces of the people you can’t save, but it isn’t your fault. You told me and Jon that you don’t blame us for what happened to your parents, that it’s stupid to blame the hero for something that wouldn’t have happened if the villain didn’t attack in the first place,” his grip tightened slightly, trying to offer comfort when Marinette tended at the mention of her parents. “If you don’t blame us, even though we were the ones in costume and fighting that day, then you need to stop blaming yourself too.”

The tears finally overflowed, salty water trickling down Marinette’s cheeks and sloppy sobs ripping themselves from her throat even as she threw herself into Clark’s chest. He hugged her tightly, letting her cry.

“B-b-But,” Marinette stuttered in between hiccuping sobs. “My powers reverse damage, m-my powers bring people back,” she sniffed, burying her face deeper into Clark’s chest. “I wanted t-to help. I-I was. S-s-So close to tr-transforming and fighting with y-you, but I didn’t. I d-didn’t, so I c-couldn’t bring them b-back. I should have been tr-transformed, th-that way they would be—“

“Shh,” Clark whispered gently, rocking her in his arms. “It’s not your fault. Metropolis wasn’t your city. You were protecting your identity, and that was the right choice.”

“But—!”

“No, Marinette,” Clark interrupted, holding her just a little tighter as she continued to tremble and sob. “If you had transformed, someone would have figured it out. A French class comes to Metropolis, and one of their students mysteriously disappears at the same time that a French hero shows up in America for the first time? Maybe you could have brought them back, but none of you would have been safe. Our villains, the villains of Metropolis, of the League, they would have suddenly known about you and might have researched Paris. Maybe HawkMoth would have gained a new ally, or maybe a villain would attack you just because you’re a new hero to target,” Clark sighed, rubbing his hand gently over Marinette’s back as her sobs quieted into a few hiccups and sniffles. She was listening. That was a good sign. “So yes, maybe you would have been able to save them that once, but you could also have opened up a new can of worms that you might not have been able to handle. Things could have gotten worse, and Jon and I wouldn’t have even known to help you. You would have continued to shoulder everything on your own, but you don’t have to. You did your best, and your parent’s deaths aren’t your fault. And you have Jon and I now, and your team even if they don’t know who you are. You can rely on us a little. If you keep going on like this, though, you’re going to kill yourself Marinette,” this time his grip tightened for a whole different reason and Clark buried his face in Marinette’s loose hair. Even after only almost three months, the thought of losing her made him breathless. She was his daughter, even if not by blood, and he couldn’t stand the thought of her hurting herself like this.

“Please, Mari,” That was Jon, who had knelt down by their side and joined the hug. “Let us help you. I promise we’re not incompetent heroes.”

Marinette’s laugh was watery, and hysteric. She accepted a tissue from Lois, who was suddenly sitting down only a foot away from the three’s group hug. After a good nose-blow, Marinette took a deep breath.

“Maybe now’s a good time to give them a proper explanation, Marinette,” Tikki said as she floated down to land on her wielder’s head, giving her the best hug she could. Marinette gave another wet chuckle.

“Yeah, I agree,” she took a deep breath. “But it’s a long story.”

“Not a problem,” Lois assured the girl as she forced herself up and stretched her arms out. “I’ll get the extra pillows and blankets. We can relax on the floor and have story time, and then binge watch movies and have a sleepover in the living room. Clark, could you be a dear and move the couch out of the way?”

—*—*—*—*—*

“You have a rule against killing, dear,” Lois whispered groggily from where she was laying against Clark’s side. Marinette was sprawled in between him and Jon, safely in their cuddle-cocoon. Both of their kids were deep asleep. Clark grunted.

“Yeah, but he put so much responsibility on kids, Lo. Kids,” he whispered back, turning his head to try and lessen the chance of waking up Jon. “And he didn’t offer them any support for almost a year, made them figure out the whole hero thing and their powers on their own,” the clearing of a tiny throat made Clark stifle a snort. “With their Kwami,” he whispered, quietly appeasing the eavesdropping Tikki who was laying on Marinette’s chest pretending to sleep. “But a god isn’t exactly a replacement for an actual hero mentor, you know,” he shot at her, making the tiny goddess shrug in acquiescence. “And making her Guardian— he basically threw all his responsibilities onto kids, and ran away. And now Marinette has to heal from all the unrealistic expectations she gave herself. So forgive me if I’m entertaining a few more violent daydreams than usual.”

Lois patted his arm and kissed his cheek. “I’m sure they will be just as violent and gratifying to imagine in the morning. Go to sleep, Smallville.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was another two and a half weeks before Marinette met Damian Wayne for the first time. She looked from the fellow teenager in a perfectly-pressed uniform and then over to her brother with a raised eyebrow.

“Does he fly in on a helicopter every day?” She asked him incredulously, making Jon grin and nod. She looked back over at Damian, who was clearly annoyed at her for speaking about him when he was right there. “I will never understand rich people.”

Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes. “And I will never understand simpletons. Kent, who is your friend?” He practically spat the last word, making the inner bully-detector in Marinette go off. Her interactions with Chloe and Lila kicked in, and sparked her old habits. Marinette flashed a bright smile, stepping in front of Jon before he could say a word and holding out her hand to Damian. Clark, who was talking to Bruce nearby, out his hand over his mouth to hide a snort. Bruce raised his eyebrows, paying close attention to the interaction now.

“Hi! I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Clark and Lois took me in a few months ago, and they said I’m already family. That means that I’m Jon’s sister now, which means that it’s my job to keep him away from bad influences. My hobbies include annoying bullies and not being a welcome mat. How are you?”

Damian blinked once. Twice, and then took her hand and shook it firmly even as a smirk spread itself over his lips.

“Damian Wayne,” he replied easily. “And I apologize for assuming you were a simpleton. I think we can tolerate each other just fine.”

As Marinette and Damian kept trading sarcastic quips with one another that got steadily less passive-aggressive as time went on (with Jon watching in dismay as somehow Marinette seemed to get along? With Damian? And they were scheming? This couldn’t end well.), Clark and Bruce watched the kids walk into their school building.

A moment of silence stretched, before Bruce finally caved and asked; “Took her in?”

Clark grinned slightly, knowing Bruce never would have been able to resist sating his curiosity over the new girl in his care.

“Lois and I practically adopted her. Technically her paternal grandmother has custody and only gave her to us to take care of while she recovers from her grief in a different country, but that’s only because trying to adopt her without being French citizens would have been almost impossible.”

“Grief?” Bruce’s eyebrows pulled down, and Clark’s smile grew somber.

“Remember the attack in late May, back in Metropolis? The one that actually had the first fatalities in months?” Bruce’s face went slack in realization, followed closely by his eyes snapping to the school’s doors. Clark nodded. “Looks like your penchant for adopting black-haired, blue-eyed orphans is contagious. She was scraping the skin off her hands and giving herself burns trying to dig them out of the rubble. When Jon and I realized that they were both of her parents, I had Lois look into her to make sure she had family to take care of her,” Clark sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “The options were a grandmother who never stops traveling or a great uncle she barely knows who only speaks Mandarin when she doesn’t. So we pulled a few strings, and now she’s a Kent in all but name.”

“I hope Damian can avoid saying the wrong thing for at least a day before I talk to him later,” Bruce said with a sigh as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “At least she seems to have won his respect pretty quickly.”

Clark laughed. “Oh yeah, she tends to do that. No offense or anything Bruce, but I think it’s a good thing we were the ones that adopted her before you got the chance,” he turned and smiled at his old friend. “You wouldn’t be able to handle Marinette. She’s closer to a Super than a Bat.”

—*—*—*—*—*

@fantasiame @thestressmademedoit @amayakans @resignedcatservant @too0bsessedformyowngood @chocolatecatstheron

Part 3

This. Was. Supposed. To be. Fluffy. Damn it. But oh well, natural story progression calls for more hurt and comfort I guess? Maybe one part left in this story I think.

[itsmeevie01]

Bio!Dad Bruce Day 5-Overprotection

After Marinette had cried herself out, Bruce guided the duo back into the kitchen. Alfred sent them all a smile before he vacated the room. On the table were four cups of hot chocolate and some of the croissants that Marinette had made during her panic that morning. When they had all settled, Bruce turned to his daughter. “Marinette, are you willing to talk about it?” The girl hunched slightly, before she looked over at him with red eyes.

“I, I can try.” She looked off slightly, seemingly focusing on the cabinets.

 “At the beginning of August, there was a storm in Pairs. I think it made it on the news. Internationally, I mean. But… it wasn’t a storm. It was…it was this- “Here, Marinette’s voice broke and she paused to collect herself. “it was my friend. She had been turned into, into, into a- “Dick pulled her into a hug, and let the girl collect herself.

“Net, if you need to stop, we won’t push you.” His reassurance was received with a nod.

“No, I, I can do this.” She took a deep breath. “My friend was turned into a villain because she was upset about loosing a competition. After that, we learned very quickly that someone was turning people into, into Akumas- “both Bruce and Dick jumped at the venom in her voice. “My class has almost all been turned at one point or another. In Paris, we all have to be happy. We aren’t allowed to be upset, we aren’t allowed to have a bad day, we aren’t allowed to feel!” Bruce stared at her; his face carefully blank as he processed the information. A noise in the doorway drew their attention and the trio turned to see Tim standing there. He looked shocked and the tremor in this hand as he came to join them made it clear that he had heard what Marinette had said.

“Little Bit, hey, I’ve got you” as he had moved to sit down, Marinette had thrown herself at him. As the girl hugged her brother, the others present in the room glanced at each other. Their worry was clear, and if they had their way, the girl would be staying in Gotham until this threat was neutralized.

“Who is fighting these… Akumas?” Dick’s question snapped Marinette’s attention in his direction, and she paused before responding,

“Ladybug and Chat Noir have been fighting them for the last five months. And its not the Akumas that are the worry, it’s their master Hawkmoth.”

To say that Bruce was pissed would be an understatement. Why was it that he hadn’t heard about this? Even more worrying, why hadn’t the League heard about this villain who basically boiled down to an emotional terrorist. With shaking hands, he called Sabine, intent on getting answers.

He wasn’t sure what he thought he was going to hear, but shock that Marinette wasn’t handling the situation like Sabine thought she should be not what he was expecting. When he had proposed keeping Marinette with him, Sabine had given a firm no, claiming that their daughter had to get her emotions under control. She hadn’t had any trouble before, why should this be any different.

When Bruce had gone to talk to Marinette about his idea, she had given him a firm “no” as well. As much as she loved her father, she claimed that she couldn’t abandon her friends and family back in Paris.

That evening after dinner when he went to talk to Dick about what he had dug up while Bruce had been on the phone, he was shocked at the security that Duck had to enlist Tim to break for them to even have references in the first place. Once they had gotten inside however, they entered a world much different than the one that was presented to them before. The look they got inside of Paris reminded Bruce more of Gotham than he would like to admit.

After being told that he could not keep his youngest in Gotham (Her argument boiled down to the fact that neither city was truly that safe…) Bruce tried to hire a bodyguard. When that didn’t work, he started to drop suggestions for forms of self-defense. Eventually, Marinette had to look him dead in the eye and threaten to leave on the first flight out of the city of he didn’t drop it.

Over the next week, Tim and Marinette started to spar under Dick’s watchful eye to pacify Bruce, but the man didn’t truly feel any better, until his daughter huffed and offered to put a tracker in her phone that he could use to keep an eye on her. She also pointed him to two blogs that she said were pretty reliable. One, The LadyBlog was run by a girl who, in Bruce’s mind, took too many risks. The other one, The Lady’s Spots, was run by the girl that Marinette had said was turned because of losing a competition.

 After that, the topic fell on the backburner. They did, after all have Christmas to celebrate. The day was spent with the entire family converging on the house. Jason and Steph made appearances, and Barbra Gordan showed up as well. The day after, when the Kents had stopped over for a visit, Bruce had pulled Clark off to the side, and brought him up to speed on what he knew of the situation. Partway through the festivities, as he was working to keep Clark for flying straight to the French city, Marinette got a notification on her phone that sent her tearing out of the room. When she had left the room, Tim and Bruce also had their phones go off. When they went to check, they found Akuma alerts and directions for civilians filling up both blogs. An hour and a half later when Marinette came back down, looking more than slightly angry, the others were quietly talking about the fight they had witnessed. When Clark had gone to ask her questions, the girl deflected, citing the fact that it was a holiday (even though it was technically the day after) and therefore they would not discuss depressing topics.

After Marinette returned to Paris, it was not uncommon for Bruce to have at least one of the blogs up in the background, grasping at straws, trying to find a way to help his little girl.

Heyyy

so the plan is, once this month is over, ill go back and fill in the big important days that im glssing over. right now, however, im trying to start on that plot that i mentioned. im not sure hoe long it’ll take me to the plot fleshed out, but it’ll probably carry out into a bit of october.

in other news, its Labor Day Weekend for me and that means that im going to have zero free time. each day will be posted, but dont be surprised if they are pretty short for a few days.

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

How time flies by when you're in love

Warnings: None, only hell of a lot of fluffffff Word count: ~2024 Summary: A timeline of your time with Damian and how you became a couple...

This was requested by an immensly amazing Anon:  Hiya! I was wondering if you could make a one shot of Damian Wayne x reader? Just some fluff involving him and like a time line of his and the reader's relationship?? (like friends then so on??) although I'm fine with just some fluff. Thanks! Best wishes!!! A/N: I kinda left out the friends part, but I still hope you like it 🥰

How you met: Your family has been close to the Wayne family for longer than anyone remembers. Your Grandmother and Martha Wayne had been best friends since they were born and Bruce and your Father played with each other on the playground. But when the Wayne's died that friendship was tested. Your grandparents tried to take care of Bruce but after a tragedy in your own lines, they abandoned their estate in Gotham for a later time and moved to England with their son. They never moved back to Gotham. Your father took over their business, making it even more successful and having it take new roots in Britain so that he could stay there. And then Bruce came back from his time "off" and in a weird turn of events he and your father reconnected and their childhood friendship blossomed again. It wasn't like his friendship with Clark or Diana or any other members of the league (he considered friends), but Bruce just enjoyed having a friend who wasn't involved in all the Superhero business. Someone from his "normal" life that wasn't friends with him because they want something. Even though they didn't see each other in person very often, with your dad living in England and Bruce in Gotham, they stayed in close contact. Because of that, you knew about him and his life, even though you've only seen him a few times when your dad visited him on vacation or Bruce visited your family. So, to set the scene, you knew about his family, but you didn't know his family. Then your dad decided that it was time to go back to his root and move back to Gotham. So, after you had settled into the newly renovated family Estate not far from Wayne Manor, your father took you and your mother to Wayne manor for dinner and catch-up with Bruce. Then you actually met Damian. And boy... It was the start of a wild ride. During the whole dinner, he seemed physically in pain by how much he didn't want to be there, but you being raised to be polite and follow all rules of manners there are, didn't speak of it...or at all. You answered when you were asked, laughed when something funny was said and displayed an interest in the topics, even though it was mostly faked. You knew the drill from years upon years of playing the perfect little princess that you were and making your dad happy. Other than the Wayne's who had the dark secret that connected them, your family was just as business-directed as you usually think the Wayne family is. So you played your part like you always did. But you couldn't help but sometimes gaze at Damian who sat there and, even though he was somewhat polite and followed manors, showed his rebellion against the situation and his un-comfort. The boy had something about him that made your stomach turn in confusion and excitement. You didn't notice that his behaviour mirrored yours to some parts.

He asks you out: Your interest in Damian didn't last very long, since the moment your parents and Bruce left to talk about something in his office, he turned into the entitled little brat he was for the public. It took you aback and you stayed quiet for the rest of the night, keeping your facade up and having a forced, but extremely polite conversation with Tim. When you left with your parents a sigh of relief left you. Your hope that you could forget about the boy until you were forced to go with your parents to a shared Gala or another Dinner quickly vanished when you entered your first class in Gotham academy. There he sat in the back, looking as bored as ever and staring out of the window. When your teacher introduced you to the glass you could feel his gaze on you, but tried your best to ignore it. You didn't want any trouble with him, especially with the small butterflies that still fluttered in your stomach while seeing him. You really could do without them. It took months for something between you two to actually happen. Not soon after you enrolled in the school you became quite popular thanks to your skill to fit in. Something you had also learned very early. But, even though you enjoyed hanging out with them and didn't have anything against them, none of the girls and boys you spend your lunch-breaks and free-time together were the type of people you actually wanted to be friends with. So when you had a free period you often sneaked away into the library to spend some time alone. Did was exactly what you did the day it happened, just that on that day, the corner you had made yours was occupied. And when you got close enough, you saw that it was occupied by no other than Damian Wayne himself. You stopped in your tracks, hoping he wouldn't notice you, and turned around to silently leave and search another place to be on your own. "Y/L/N!" You stopped yet again, but couldn't turn around. You had no idea what would happen now. You haven't talked to him in months for god's sake. "I wanted to talk to you," he said, quieter now, and you felt his presence behind you. Did he wait for you? Did he know about 'your place'? Slowly you turned around and caught sight of him standing only a few feet away from you, his hand buried in his pant's pockets. You forced yourself to smile at him neutrally and asked: "How can I help you?" "What is your plan here?" "Excuse me?" "Why are you acting?" The question confused you and caused you to quirk your eyebrow at him. What was he going at? "I- I don't quite think I'm catching on...What are you talking about exactly?" "Ttt," he scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, "You know what I mean. You're not letting anyone know you. You're acting like a chameleon." Your breathing hitched. He had noticed. Of course he had, he did the same after all. "Who're you to talk about that?" you asked slightly defensive. "It's not like you're exactly open about you either. As far as I noticed no-one in the school knows anything real about you." "And about you they do or what?" "N-No...but that's not really any of your business is it now?" Damian opened his mouth as to answer, but couldn't. You didn't know that he had started to stay close to you, hidden in the shadow, after the first few weeks off you being in the school. You didn't know that he felt a pang off jealousy in his gut every time you talked to one of the other boys who he heard talking about you like you were a price to be claimed whenever they were out of your hearing range. You didn't know that something deep inside him wanted to get to know you, to be able to protect you. "So? What exactly do you want now?" you asked, ripping him out of his thoughts about you. What was he supposed to answer now? How had he forgotten about all the things he had planned to say, to tell you? An uncomfortable silence filled the room between you and you sigh, shaking your head, before you turned around, ready to leave yet again. Then his hand grabbed your wrist. "I want to get to know the real you," Damian said the thing he had thought this whole time but swore to himself to not let you know about.

Your first date: The next week flew by like it was only a few seconds. In the heat of him asking, you had actually managed to say yes and somehow the two of you managed to passively-aggressively organize a meet-up. Deep inside you, you had hoped it was a date, but you were too afraid to ask. The question sticking in your mind like gum, never leaving your mind. The answer came when you heard a ring of the door-bell on Saturday after. You quickly got up, sorting through your outfit for the last time, and practically ran over to open the door. There he stood in all his glory. He wore a pair of plain black pants and a white shirt with cuffed sleeves. God, they don't lie when they say boys get more attractive with cuffed sleeves... He looked at you and you could have sworn that a small blush made its way onto his cheeks, making you blush as well. Should you tell him that he looked good? Wouldn't that be to Date-y? You were questioning the sense of this meet-up again when he took something out from behind his back. You hadn't even noticed that he had hidden something. In his hands was a bundle of your favorite flowers. "They're gorgeous," you breathed out and took them, breathing in their sweet scent. If you had looked at Damian you would've literally seen the gears turn in his head. "They're not as gorgeous as you," he said before he could stop himself. The blush on your cheeks got even bigger and you really wanted to return the compliment, but you were quite literally speechless. After you had put the flowers in a vase, you rejoined Damian and almost turned into a tomato when he took your hand and lead you to the car that waited for the two of you. The way your hand was lying in his felt so extremely natural that you didn't even notice that he kept on holding it the whole way to the cafe the two of you had agreed to go to. After a while of embarrassed silence, the two of you somehow actually managed to start a conversation and not long after the two of you talked like you knew each other for ages. It was nothing like the way he acted around others (even his family) and he also noticed how you seemed to be way more natural than you acted with others. It felt like it was really meant to be.

A short summary of what followed: After the date and Damian bringing you home you couldn't stop yourself from asking him to be your boyfriend, even though you slightly feared the answer. Luckily for you, he immediately said yes. In fact, so fast that he almost stumbled over his words. For a while, you two agreed to keep it under the covers, which worked more or less good after Tim caught you making out in Damian's room under the cover of 'doing a school project together' and not very long after, all his siblings knew and teased him about. But other than you might think, he wasn't really annoyed by it, but rather shined with proudness of calling you his girlfriend and being able to show you and your relationship off. You had been dating for quite a while when Bruce and your parents found out about the two of you. The two of you were attending a Wayne/Y/L/N-Gala, both almost visible being in pain by not being able to openly being with each other when some guy started obviously flirting with you, only a few feet away from your parent's and Bruse. Damian felt his blood boiling but was able to keep his posture until the guy dared to touch your arms with his filthy hands. In seconds Damian stood between the two of you, raised fist ready to turn the guy into a pulk if you weren't clutching onto him, hugging him from behind. He managed to calm down and turned around, embracing you and giving you a small peck onto your forehead. Let's just say you had to explain your parent's quite a lot (even though they low-key shipped you). All in all, your relationship is truly something else. It was like you knew the other one better than yourselves and felt what they felt. No matter what obstacles you met, if it was you finding out about his secret identity and what followed or simple, even though seldom, fights, you got through them together.

[anjuschiffer]

Amira Wayne [Unclassified]

I’ve been waiting for so long to show this deleted chapter! Now that I’m done recycling some parts of this deleted chapter, I can finally show it!

Note: the ‘masterlist’ on this work redirects to Amira Wayne’s MASTERLIST as this work is a subwork of it

-

Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijah-crevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh

-

MASTERLIST | AO3

Day 9 - Deleted Chapter

The minute Marinette walked into the school, she knew something was off. She couldn’t quite place her finger on it, but it was there. Something was interrupting the equilibrium. 

As she made her way towards class, she couldn’t help but notice the increase in buzz throughout the halls. Marinette listened in on every conversation, noticing how the name Lila kept popping up.

“Lila?” She muttered to herself, placing her hand on her chin. Who exactly was-

“Seems like you’ve already heard about her.” Alya said from behind Marinette, throwing an arm over her shoulders. Alya redirected her attention to a girl on the second floor.

Marinette followed her gaze, seeing a girl with the most hideous hairstyle standing next to Adrien. If it weren’t for those -whatever they were- dangling from the side of her face, the girl would seem to know a thing for fashion. Why sort of? The polka dotted romper wasn’t exactly pleasing to the eye. 

“She just transferred from Italy and she has the most incredible life! Not only has she met Prince Ali and Jagged Stone, but she’s also met Ladybug! Ladybug saved her! Lila even gave me an exclusive-”

“When did she arrive in Paris? Did she even mention-”

“Just yesterday!” Alya quickly responded, attempting to show Marinette the interview Lila gave her. Noticing that Alya had already posted it to the Ladyblog, Marinette made a note of telling Uncle Clark to hold on to the internship for now. “Look! Thanks to her-”

“So she just arrived yesterday for the first time in Paris-”

“Well, we don’t know if first-”

“-first time in Paris after the appearance of Ladybug.” Marinette continued. “And she claims to have been saved by Ladybug? If memory serves me correctly, there wasn’t any akuma yesterday, meaning no patrol from Ladybug. So then the question is: how did she claim to have met Ladybug -nonetheless supposedly save her- if Ladybug wasn’t around?”

Marinette watched as Alya opened her mouth to try and come up with some type of answer, but nothing came up. “Did you really just accept her story without even fact checking?”

“But Lila knows-”

“There’s a difference between recognizing and knowing. And it seems that Lila recognizes Ladybug and her importance to Paris, meaning she may not fully know who Ladybug truly is because if she did,” Marinette narrowed her eyes. “She would know Ladybug doesn’t like it when someone spreads rumors about her. That includes people who use her name for a bit of limelight.” 

Marinette made her way towards class, not caring if Alya called her to come back. 

From the corner of her eye, she watched as Lila dragged Adrien to the library, Marinette shaking her head. That poor boy. Welp, not her problem.

“Marinette! Something’s off.” Tikki stopped her, Marinette wondering what she sensed.

“You too?” Tikki nodded.

“And it’s close.” Marinette huffed, dragging her hands down her face. “Does this happen to have anything to do with Lila?”

“I’m not sure, but we have to follow her.” Tikki commanded, Marinette bracing herself for the worse.

-

Marinette looked at the book in her hands, quickly recognizing the language inscribed in the front cover.

While Marinette hated every minute she sat in that library, listening to Lila try to get Adrien to fall for her, Marinette was glad that something good came from it. When Adrien had dropped the book, Lila dragging it towards her with her food, Marinette used that moment to grab the book and run.

Once in her room, she quickly scanned each page before dashing around her room in search of a notebook. She’s definitely seen this writing before.

“What do you mean you know this language? Only the Guardian should know-”

“My brother adored learning languages, even the obscure ones. Whenever we would have a day off from school, he would go to our father’s library and stay there all day.” Tikki watches as a soft smile formed on Marinette’s face as she said so. “He would be there all day, deciphering old languages, ecstatic when he would decipher one correctly that had stumped researchers for years.” Tikki watched as Marinette pulled out a notebook from an old trunk, Tikki wondering how she never noticed how out of place it seemed in Marinette’s room.

“Brother? Do you have another family?” Tikki asked, wondering if she even knew the Marinette in front of her. She would only mention a brother if it meant she had more family elsewhere. If so, what was she doing here in Paris? And by herself?

“Back in Gotham, I have another family.” Marinette softly said, running a hand over the notebook placed on her desk. “Jason, he was the one who wanted to become a linguist and the one who stumbled upon this writing.” 

Tikki watched as Marinette opened up the notebook, her eyes widening as Marinette flipped through pages and pages of translations, finally stopping at the beginning of a section with the same writing as in the grimoire. 

“He managed to translate all of this from a simple sample of this very book?” Tikki asked in amazement, watching as Marinette began to translate the book with ease.

“He was just that amazing.” Tikki noticed her smile drop, a frown taking over. 

Was. That’s the second time she said that word. “By the way Tikki, why is this book so important?” Tikki took the change of topic with ease, knowing to not pry into Marinette’s past. 

Right now wasn’t the time.

“This grimoire is a book of spells that not only enhance your abilities, but unlocks the abilities of us kwamis. The Guardian has been looking for this very book for years! He had lost it decades ago-”

“Lost? And hold on a minute. Is this the only book or are there more that talks about the kwami and miraculouses?” When Tikki nodded, Marinette let out a sigh. Good. She didn’t want to go  on a mission to retrieve another one. Who knows what would have happened to Amira’s sanity if she had to do so.

“Now that we finally have the book, we have to give it to the-”

“No.” Marinette interjected, grabbing the book.

“No? Marinette! This is very valuable information that the Guardian-”

“You said the Guardian lost it and yet here it is, in a civilian’s hand years later. Don’t you realize what this can mean?” When Marinette saw Tikki shrug, she laughed, opening up a draw in her vanity, pulling out a small case. 

Tikki watched as Marinette carefully placed some devices around the device, windows appearing on Marinette’s desktop that noted the location of the grimoire.

Just who was this girl? “Alright.” Marinette turned to Tikki, a smirk on her face. “How about we return this grimoire to its owner?”

-

“Well, if it isn’t Lila Rossi.” Ladybug said with a chilling smile, Lila feeling a chill run down her spine. 

After talking with Adrien in the library, Lila thought her plans were sailing smoothly until she realized that she had lost the book she took from Adrien.

She spent the rest of the day searching for that damn book, panicking when Adrien had reached into his bag when Lila had mentioned being the descendant of a superhero named Volpina. Even with a necklace greatly resembling the one in the book, she didn’t have Adrien’s complete trust. How naive she was.

Then to make her day even worse, Ladybug popped in.

“Hey Ladybug! How-”

“Can I have a word with you?” Ladybug asked, Adrien startstrucked with Ladybug even being near him, watching as the two girls went off to the other side of the park. “Listen Lila, I suggest you stop giving Alya interviews about supposedly being friends with me. Better yet, stop claiming to know me when you don’t.”

“I just-”

“Lila, I’m doing this to protect you. To protect everyone. You claiming you know me will put your life at risk and those around you. I don’t know how things worked over in Italy, but-”

“How do you-”

“I got my ways.” Ladybug said, looking at her yo-yo for the time. “Also, piece of advice? You don’t gotta lie to make friends as Dupont. Everyone is pretty much eager to make a new friend, no matter how shut off the person is.”

“How-”

“Like I said before, I got my ways.” Lila watched as Ladybug took her hair into her hands. “One more thing. Change your hairstyle a bit and that romper? Hideous. You’ll look cuter than what you already do if you work on those two things. Oh! Before I forget.” Ladybug handed over the grimoire to Lila. “Think this belongs to your friend over there. There was a picture of a woman who looked like him, so I thought it would be his. If it turns out that it isn’t, don’t hesitate to give it back the next time you see me! Bug out!”

 With that, Lila watched Ladybug leave, going back to Adrien with the grimoire in her hands.

“Lila, what did-my book!”

“Ladybug found it and managed to know it was yours.” Lila said, her eyes dazed off to who knows where. 

“Hey Lila, you alright? You seem kind of red.” Lila quickly placed her hands on her cheeks, finally registering that her face was on fire.

-

The next day at school, Marinette relaxed upon setting foot, happy to have the old atmosphere back.

But she spoke a bit too soon.

Class went how it usually went, Marinette taking down boring notes as their teacher explained the powerpoints. Too bad the notes were part of her grades or else she would’ve dozed off.

Half the day came and went, history class now their last one.

For this week’s project, everyone had to choose someone they admired, many of her classmates choosing their idols.

Surprisingly, Max had chosen Lex Luthor while Alya chose Lois Lane. What really caught her attention was when Adrien went up and instead of talking about his father, he spoke of hers: Bruce Wayne.

With each of her father’s organizations and charities mentioned, Marinette’s smile grew wider. Seems like he did his research. Everything was going swell until the final portion of the report came in. 

If you can meet your idol, what would you do? 

“To be honest, I think I would tell him to work on his promises.” Adrien said, causing Marinette to snap from her trance.

“Why do you say that Adrien?” Ms.Bustier asked, her pen already on her paper, ready to jot down whatever was to be said.

“I was supposed to have met him last year, my father sending me to represent us during last year’s party. Father told me I was going to speak to him but I never saw him that evening. I ended up-”

“-it’s because Mister Wayne couldn’t be there that day due to personal reasons.” Marinette interrupted, gathering everyone’s attention.

“Marinette. Adrien-” Ms.Bustier called out, only to get cut off by the girl.

“Adrien doesn’t know the full story.” Marinette said, feeling her hands tremble as they curled. She felt her nails attempt to calm her down. “He didn’t do enough research to know-”

“I didn’t need to. I was there.” Adrien barked back. “Why would I need to research something I-”

“Just because you were there doesn’t mean you know the whole story!” Marinette yelled, pushing herself off her seat, causing her weight to push her palms into her nails even more.

“There was-”

“If you had done your damn job properly, then you would know why Bruce wasn’t there that gala! You would know what that gala meant to him! Hell, I bet you don’t even remember the purpose of that gala!”

“I do know why-”

“Then tell me! Enlighten me, Mr.I-Don’t-Need-To-Know-The-Whole-Story!” Marinette yelled, ignoring the tugs from Alya, the whispers towards her and the tiny hushes from Ms.Bustier.

“The gala was to celebrate the start of the Catherine Todd Foundation.” Adrien informed, looking at Marinette for confirmation. He found none, instead finding disappointment. “That’s what the whole-”

“That’s it?” A dry laugh came from Marinette, scaring everyone. “The Catherine Todd Foundation was more than a foundation. More than a foundation for the people of Gotham who suffered from mental illnesses and addiction. It was the foundation my brother spent months talking about with our father.” Marinette growled, making her way down the steps. “My brother spent months planning his speech about the foundation named after his beloved mother. It was something he looked forward to. Something he was proud of.”

“Then why wasn’t-”

“Because he died eight months before the launch of it!” Marinette yelled, tears rolling down her face. Scattered gasps and whispers sprouted around the classroom. “My brother died months before he can see one of his own dreams come true! He died before he could see his dream blossom into hope! Hope that he wanted to give to the children of Gotham who went through the same shit he did!”

Marinette stood in front of Adrien, her tears staining her shirt. Adrien tried to look away, but Marinette forced him to look at her.

“Our father had yet to recover from my brother’s death and when it came time for the scheduled gala, he just couldn’t bear to show his face. Everything reminded him of Jason. Dad couldn’t handle the pain, so he never showed up!” Marinette let go of Adrien, letting her arm drop to her side. 

“Jason Todd made the Catherine Todd Foundation possible. I was proud of him for overcoming his past. He helped me fix my relationship with our dad...and with our older brother Richard.”

“Marinette...I’m-”

“I don’t want your apology.” Marinette said, wiping away her tears. “Clearly, you’ve made it known that you rely on everything being fed to you. You don’t question anything thrown your direction. You don’t make an effort to learn more...to investigate.”

“Marinette. I had no idea-”

“Save it.” She cut off. “Until you change your perspective, I’ll have you know that as of now, Wayne Enterprises is no longer to work with Agreste.”

Adrien gaped at that declaration, holding her back when Marinette tried to leave.

“What do you mean Wayne Enterprise will no longer work with Agreste? Who exactly-”

“I meant what I said. And as a Wayne myself, I too have the authority to cut off any ties with companies I deem unworthy to invest on.”

A snort came from across the room, Marinette narrowing her eyes on Chloe. “What’s so funny?”

“You, Dupain-Cheng.” Chloe rose from her seat, pretending to dust off her pants. “Did you hit your head or something? Clearly you must have if you think-”

“I am a Wayne.” Marinette said, taking out her wallet and handing Chloe a card, watching the mayor’s daughter pale considerably. “If you don’t believe me, that’s fine. But let this be known. This will be the last time you ever know me as Marinette Dupain-Cheng. From now on, I’ll stop hiding behind a mask and take the name I have the right to say. 

My name is Amira Wayne and this is the last time you’ll ever see me.”

[emu-lumberjack]

A Quick Meeting pt. 3

The Bakery is open so it’s time for Marinette and Damian to have a chat. Only for Lila to interrupt. 

--------------------------------------

Don't ask me to explain, honestly I should just not be allowed around a keyboard while I’m tired. So here’s the next part.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

“Good morning and welcome to the Dupain----” Marinette cut off when she saw who had come in. Damian newly minted Wayne was dressed in his usual black turtleneck with jeans and some sneakers. The boy next to him she recognized from the other night, not knowing his civilian identity she resounded to just calling him superboy in her head. He was dressed in blue jeans, a white shirt scuffed up boots and a yellow flannel, obviously American. In a lower voice she said “Damian and company, how nice to see you. Done heroing yet?” She tried to be nice but just couldn’t resist the jab.

“Heroing? I have no idea what youre talking about, I’m just from America yup just a normal American boy. No heroing about me.” Superboy was a flustered mess blushing as he couldn’t figure out how to spin the lie convincingly.

“Oh can it Kent she’s already figured you out.” Damian said, curt as usual.

“Well it’s nice to see you’re feeling better ice prince. Have a nice time last night?” she motioned with her head towards the back. Hopefully he was smart enough to realize her parents were right next door and could hear almost everything.

“Sure though” he lowered his voice “I could’ve sworn I left something on your lovely partner's hair. If I remember correctly it was pink paint?” Marinette had to stifle a laugh. Knowing Adrien he wasn’t up yet which is why he hadn’t called her. “So Ms. Dupain-Cheng think you have enough time to take a breakfast break with us. Maybe talk over somethings?”

“Oh I think I could swing that. Let me just go tell my parents.” she walked towards the back leaving Damian and Superboy alone up front. “Mamman, Papa some friends have asked if I could take a quick break and eat breakfast with them. Is that ok?”

“Of course just don’t take too long.” Tom said.

“And if anyone comes in you’ve gotta help them.” Sabiene added.

“Done and done. Thank you.” Marinette said waving as she walked back out front.

“So are you free for a little bit?” Damian asked, and if she didn’t know better she would think he sounded nervous.

“Yeah, at least unless any other customers come in.” She responded. “Now what do you guys want.”

Minutes later the three were sitting around the table in the bakery. Jon, who had finally introduced himself properly to Marinette, finally got his macaroons. Damian went with a more conservative coffee and blueberry scone. Marinette had already eaten but she still made herself a coffee after all a heroes work never sleeps.

“So you have got to tell me how you got paint in Chats hair.”

“Well a Wayne never reveals his secrets.” Damian smiled.

“Wait how did you do that?” Jon said through a mouthful of Macaroon.

“Do what?

“Make him smile? That took me a month to do!”

“Well I----” Marinette was about to respond sarcastically when the bell above the door rang. “Well looks like I’m back on the clock sorry Jon, maybe some other time.”

“But….. But…. Come on I need to know!!!” He shouted as she went back behind the counter.

“Hello and welcome to the Dupain-Cheng bakery. How may I help you.” Marinette said from behind the counter.

“Oh I’m not so sure you can help me. After all, you've been so unhelpful lately.” Marinette groaned knowing that snively voice anywhere.

“Lila. how… can I even say pleasent, or would you somehow spin it in a way that makes me look like the bad guy.” Marinette was trying to be polite, trying was the optimal word.

“What is your problem Marinette.” Alya said from behind Lila

“Alya  I was just trying to make sure I don’t get my reputation any more slandered.”

“Don’t worry Alya, I’m just trying to be nice and order some pastries for me and my Damipoo.” Marinette swore she saw Damian choke on his coffee while Jon broke out into giggles. “And what is your problem Damian? And who’s this he looks like he came out of farmers weekly.” Lila turned her attention to Damian. The latter in turned looked towards Marinette. He looked her straight in the eye and nodded. Marinette realizing what he was about to do got a wicked grin on her face and nodded back.

“Lies you know I don’t like pastries, remember that incident in Munich? Also why are you being so mean to Marinette? From what you told me you two were best friends with MDC.” He saddled up closer to Lila, he had a head on her so she had to look up to him.

“What are you talking about Damian, and what do you mean MDC?” she looked angry, and confused. Marinette got out her phone and hit record.

“Well you said you finally wanted to reveal our relationship to the world, that you were ready for the world to know you were dating Damian Wayne. My father agreed, oh how my brothers couldn’t stop teasing us.” Damian grabbed her hand and brought it to his chest. “Also of course you know Marinette Dupain-Cheng is MDC, you wouldn’t tell me who she was so it took me a week to figure it out.”

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

“Come on Lies you told the world we’re dating. After all, you’ve known me as Damian Wayne since I moved to Gotham.” There was the money shot. Marinette zoomed in on Lilas pale white shocked face. Once she got a good look at that she moved the camera to where Jon was, because he looked about as shocked as Lila, but three shades paler. Before anyone could say anything she sprinted from the room. Marinette turned off the corner just in time for her and Damian to burst out laughing.

“ok what’s going on?” Alya’s voice came from the corner.

“Well it looks like Lila forgot to check my last name before spinning her newest lie, otherwise she would’ve known not to tell it. I am a Wayne after all.” Alya’s face slacked as she comprehended the words. At the same time Jon’s phone went off, he silently picked it up still stunned from the fact he just witnessed Damian fucking Wayne act like that.

“Jonathan Kent where in the world are you!” Jon winced as his very angry mother shouted from the other end of the line.  Alya went even more slack jawed as she realized that it was her idol Lois Lane.

“Hi mom, I’m in Paris. Damian needed my help with something so I came over.” Jon said innocently.

“Oh went right over. Just popped across the pond like it was nothing, I hope you can do the same thing and get back here or otherwise no tech for a month. After all Jon you can’t just ditch the house like that! Not even for a Wayne. Conner and Clark do it enough to give two lifetimes worth of heart attacks.”

“Alya it may be a good time to go.” Marinette quietly told her ex friend.

“I have so many questions. But before I go I need to tell you that I am so sorry about everything, about believing Lila and hurting you, and I have been such a terrible person. It’s taken me until now to realize how wrong I’ve been” Alya looked at Marinette, both girls tearing up a little bit. Marinette was just happy Alya was out of Lila’s mind control.  

“We can talk more about it later, I don’t know if I can fully forgive you right now, but I know I can at least a little bit.” the two hugged and Alya left, mumbling to herself about what she just witnessed.

--------------------------------------------

Damian could still hear Lois’ shouts an hour after she was done. Once she was done chewing Jon out she called him to tear him to shreds about not letting her or Clark know about Jon staying in Paris for the night. Lets just say he was still recovering from those burns. A short knock on his window let him know Marinette was outside.

“Windows open!” he called from the living room. He heard it creak open and soft footprints soon after.

“Spots off.” she said entering the living room. In a flash of light the Ladybug costume was replaced with a pair of jeans and a white top. “Have I said you’re the best because you are. I don’t think Lila will be trying anything new for a while.”

“Good. I was getting rather annoyed at her.” He was gonna add a specific reason then realized, He didn’t need to. “On the topic of secrets there's something I need to talk to you about.”

“You’re Robin.”

“I’m sorry come again.”

“You are Robin.”

“And how did you find that out?”

“I looked through any pictures I could, I recognized the hairstyle. Plus most people described him as having the exact same personality as you. Then there's the fact he hasn’t been seen in almost two months. Which coincidence is exactly how long you’ve been here for.”

“I… I think you could rival Drake for deductive reasoning.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Unlike my other comments about Drake it actually is. Now that was part of what I wanted to talk to you about. The other part was,” he took a moment gathering up the nerve to ask, “can we start training together? I’ve seen you’re fighting technique and it’s frankly amazing. Something the league of assassins never taught me. I’d be very honored to learn it.”

“I mean if you want too sure. When do you want to start?” Marinette looked almost excited.

“How bout now? I can race you to the Wayne enterprises building, we have a secret training room there.”

“That’s a deal.”

Once Damian had on his training suit and a mask, the Robin suit was back in Gotham at Bruce's orders,  and Marinette her Ladybug costume they set out across town. Damian only almost hit two bird nests which was actually an improvement, especially after months off duty.

“Aha beat you.” the red and black heroine cheered.

“You sure? The view from up here has been amazing” The boys black training suit blended in nicely with the night.

“How the hell did you get here before me and get up there?”

“Beat me in training and I’ll tell you. Now come on, want to see the training room?”

“Ten minutes. Got it.” Damian saw Marinette smirk from beneath her mask.

“Just come on.” he said blushing, Marinette gave a quick laugh. Damian was finally seeing the two as the same person, honestly it kinda struck him as strange not many others could. It was rather obvious.

He led the way down the twisty hallways of Wayne enterprises, avoiding the more active areas so no one would see him and Ladybug sneaking around. That might get a few too many looks for his comfort. Finally they got out of the fluorescent light and cramped walls of the hallways to the keypad and door that would lead to the training room.

Please give me your password sir, madame, or neuter. Alfred's voice rang from the keypad.

“Bloodson.”

“Bloodson? Really you chose that?”

“I was ten, like you never gave embarrassing nicknames at that age. Now would you like to go in first?”

“I think you might want to talk to him about going first.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just look.”

Damian turned around to see black sweatpants with a red t-shirt. Attached were pale limbs one carrying a water bottle the other a phone. Damian looked up to match eyes with Tim Drake, one of his least favorite siblings to deal with.

“Hey ice prince. Want to explain why you’re in training gear, which should be back at the cave. Or how about why you’re with someone clad in spandex, I thought that was just a super thing.” Tim surprisingly had finally gotten more than an hour of sleep which meant his deductive skills were actually sharper than normal. Not good for Damian.

“How bout I take option three: leaving and we never speak of this.”

“Yeah not an option, start talking. Now.”

Tag list: 

@clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @yuulxd @smolplantmum

[oh-for-fic-sake]

FUCK OFF!

Masterlist

You and Bruce get to the bottom of your youngests Anxiety fueled Mutism.

Warnings: Swearing, Angst ,Bullying ,Racial bullying? ,Fluff , Humor

A/N: This is a request from @babydork10​ Tried to make this as accurate as I could did have to do a bit of reading up on the topic and hope I have done it justice and you all enjoy xx

Taglist: @125bluemachine125​ @iloveyouyen​ @thefangirlsblog​

You and Bruce looked at one another across the kitchen, you where having a disagreement. Not an argument. Bruce thinks that its time to start helping your youngest with his selective mutism by taking him to the funday fundraiser for the brand new Martha Wayne foundation, a new charity for the underprivileged children of Gotham. It was going to try and build a new school with decent education giving these kids equal opportunities to go to college and university,  to make it out of the...Harsher side of Gotham city. Sure the day was going to be fun for the kids, Bruce had pulled in a small fair ground and one of those ridiculous inflatable playgrounds you how ever think its to soon.

"Look the Drs said its caused by a severe anxiety, fear! I just- I want to help him y/n I don't want my boy to grow up..." he cut him self off and you growled hissing at him.

"Mute? Is that it Bruce? You don't want him to be mute? I mean he can't grow up to be the next Robin if he can't talk right?" He growled voice dropping low and dangerous he slammed his hands down on the counter.

"THAT'S FUCKING!-that was unfair..you know I didn't mean that at all!" You held his gaze not the least bit intimidated you know he would never hurt you deep down. You sighed and leaned back against the counter crossing you arms.

"I-I don't want him to grow up scared...Thought that we could-if it was with other kids he might open up a little" you sighed  rolling your eyes

"Its anxiety based Bruce social anxiety fuck-sure sure lets put our boy our socially anxious little boy into a fucking fairground with hundreds of kids he doesn't know! where there will be cameras and reporters and and-fuck Bruce it will be hell for him there!" He growled

"He will know some of them! Some of his class mates are coming...And you know what!? At least its something god damn it! Its fear he is scared don't you get that! He is frightened to interact! To speak to anyone fuck sake he won't even speak to Damien or Tim! Y/n! And they live here...fucking hell, woman..You know? at least I'm trying!" You flew from the counted to the island he was leaning on pointing at him really pissed now.

"OH WHAT AND I’M FUCKING NOT? COME ON TELL ME? HONESTLY BRUCE YOU THINK I’M NOT TRYING? THAT I DON'T SPEND HOURS UPON HOURS UP AT NIGHT TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHERE I WENT WRONG? THAT-THAT SOMEHOW THIS COULD BE MY FAULT!?" you screamed at him across the kitchen your shout echoing off every surface tears streaming down your face a you shook in anger and despair you were so happy the boys where at school you never ever wanted them to see this back and forth especially Roman.

Bruce shook his head at you and made his way to you he opened his arms holding you softly as you wept into your hands.

"Shh shh I-I'm sorry I didn't mean that its not your fault...its not anyone’s fault...I just I see my boy hurting, he wants to interact to play and make friends and I want to help him but I don’t know how....I was just hoping you know the rides and games would take his mind off of the people around him and he could...I don’t know prove to himself its okay, he can make friends and talk to others...That was all love, I wanted to give him the chance" you whined into his shoulder as he help you cupping the back of your head ruffling your hair you turned placing a kiss on his neck before nodding.

"....Okay, we can-we can give it a shot but don't push him Bruce they said he could grow out of it"

"They also said it can be a confidence thing...Fuck it could be o many things! We-I just want to help him, he is such a sweet funny kid I just want everyone to see what an amazing little boy he is!" You smiled nodding up at him.

"I know you want to show him off, a big proud papa... I do to I- I just worry to much" Bruce wrapped his arms around you holding you tight. He was worried for Romans future you both were, he place a soft kiss on your head rocking you back and forth.

"I know you are worried I am to...But we have to try, the boys will be around watching and Alfred to I just want to give him what he needs but-" you took a deep breath on his cologne then moved to rest your ear over his heart listening to the soothing pulse beneath.

"I-I know its hard not knowing what he needs...As parents its our job but...But with this? Its- your right as uncomfortable as it is for us we need to try for his sake...never know he might make a friend" Bruce took a shaking breath and rubbed your arms encouragingly.

"He might do, we do whats best, we try and that's all we can do...come on lets go let Alfred know we don't need him to babysit"

You moved across your youngest bed room he was looking at you slowly blinking his hazel eyes followed you as you ran around grabbing his new outfit. A pair of dark wash ripped jeans and a loose fitting button up shirt. Hopefully he would be able to climb and play in it.

"Mummy...What are you doing?" You took a deep breath and looked down you dreaded this. You smiled and twisted round sitting on the bed and patted for Roman to sit beside you. He did still looking at you cutely as you handed him his clothes he instantly began pulling on the shirt waiting for your reply.

"Well.. Your father and I....As you know we are having a fundraiser today...And its for your Nana's charity....And we were going to take you with us...Its going to be some much fun! your father pulled out all the stops! Theres going to be a fairground with rides and popcorn and candyfloss and a big inflatable playground-"

"Why?" What? You faltered

"What do you mean love? Why what?" He looked down fiddling with a thread on his 'trendy' ripped jeans that his father hated but you wanted him to fit in today to have the best chance, you leaned in placing a hand to his back rubbing slowly.

"Why are you taking me? Won't I embarrass you?" You frowned and kneeled down before him

"Embarrass- OH Roman no! No you have never ever embarrassed us never- do you hear me? My sweet sweet child! Don't you ever think that for a second...Roman Thomas Wayne you look at me" At his full name he looked up at you blinking away tears sniffling softly.

"B-But I don't talk mummy?! isn't that bad? don't people laugh at you and daddy when you take me out?" you gasped

"Laugh? who? who laughs at you my love?"

"....everyone! At school they laugh! a-and when we go out to dinner and when i go with you to see daddy at the office! I try mummy I do try I promise! I just don't-Can't the other parents have to laugh to!..I don't want to go!" you shook your head trying to fight tears seeing how worked up he was getting panting and panicking...This was a bad idea!

"Roman-Roro listen to me...You are my son! My little boy and you have nothing-nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of and don't you worry about what other people think, they are just jealous...You are my special little man! I love you, We love you so very much and we will protect you your brothers included!"

"Damien he and Tim hate me-I cant even talk to them! I love them and Jason and Dick but I can't- they don't know that!-"

"That is one of the silliest things you've ever said and I don't ever want to hear you say that again Roman" you and Roman gasped seeing Bruce slink into the room silently creeping.

"But Daddy-" Bruce waved a hand at him.

"No buts about it Roman...Your brothers love you to death! all four of them and they always will you here me? you might not say it but they know you love them back....There is nothing to be embarrassed about, today is about having some fun you can play with the other kids or stay with your mother and I its your choice...I hope you have a little fun at least go on some rides!" His face lit up

"Re-really daddy? they love me?" You smiled as Roman peeked at Bruce hopefully

"Of course they do! today I want you to enjoy yourself and eat as much cotton candy as you can! Now enough of all this get your- are you really wearing those?" Roman looked down to the jeans on his lap and nodded then quickly slipped them on slowly getting himself all excited he had one hell of a sweet tooth and you can get much sweeter then cotton candy...You'd be lying if you said you wasn't looking forward to it yourself.

"Okay...I will come and...Mummy? Willl-will there be pictures?" You blinked looking to Bruce this was new.

"Pictures? Like the press you mean?" He nodded

"Uh huh Like uncle Clark and aunt Lois" Bruce and you shared a look frowning why was Roman worried about the press?

"Yeah buddy just a few...Your uncle and aunt wont be there though just some people from Gotham....But after we have a picture of the family then will leave us alone...Don't you worry about them you just have fun tonight!" You had a horrid sinking feeling...why the fuck was your seven year old wary of the fucking paps? What has happened for him to be dubious over photos? Roman have an uneasy look but kept quiet prompting you to ask

"Roman love....Is everything alright? You know if anyone has done anything you can tell your father and I? We can fix it..." he smiled a false smile.

"I'm okay mummy....Can we go now?"you looked incredulously as Bruce but nodded."Sure honey go get your shoes on...the black hi-tops your going to need grip on the rides!" He smiled running down the hall

"Bruce-"

"I know love...I will look into it tonight but I picked upon it to"

The car ride was fairly quiet the tension was thick, you knew both Tim and Damien were wondering about how roman would take this but they chose to keep their comments to themselves. You and Bruce were up front Damien and Tim in the back with Roman snugly tuck in the middle. Damien and Tim were bickering over there younger brothers head. you rolled your eyes at them.

"I'm gonna kick your ass drake!" Tim grumbled

"Whatever you helps you sleep at night hell spawn! mini games are my thing!"

"Fuck you-"

"Damien language! and that's enough both of you- if you start this competitive bullshit today you'll get Jason involved and I don't want to have to deal with your bitching when he kicks both your asses on the shoot a duck!!" you looked back to the three boys. both teens grumbled you frowned.

"Roman are you alright honey? your pale...Is it your tummy?" he nodded and both brothers shared a look over him. Bruce did a quick check in the mirror and took a breath.

"In your bag I'm sure I put some in there" you nodded pulling your bag to your lap and puled out a small bottle of pills, What people didn't realize about Romans condition is there was a whole host of symptoms. Just like adult anxiety there were tummy aches, migraines, diarrhea, sickness, nausea and the most frightening of all was chest pains. you huffed you didn't have a water bottle. Fuck.

"Damien? Tim? you got any water for your brother to take his medicine?" at your request they both quickly routed around in their man bags for a water bottle Tim was first handing it to Roman who took the medicine quickly as always. you smiled to him reassuringly.

"Trust me love...There is nothing to worry over- just a fun day at the fair! okay? Just stick with one of us" Damien nodded

"Yeah you can come play with us! we can beat drake together on the mini games! he can fall to our superior genes!" Roman smiled to Damien warily making the teen smile and ruffle the boys hair.

"ha! as if Roro wants to help me wipe the floor with you! don't you Ro? after all if your as good as you say then you wont need the help!" you rolled your eyes as the two began their bickering again

"oh for fuck sake-" you were stopped by Bruce placing a hand on your thigh nodding subtly to them and you of what he was hinting to. Roman was happy smiling wide looking between his brothers, seemingly happy to be included. you sat back facing forward .

"He will be fine just give him a little space today see where it leads, I've asked the boys to watch the other parents and paps today...I have an idea about something want to confirm it first"

"About what? Roman? what do you think-" you were cut off with a patt on the leg from Bruce and a raised eyebrow.

"Just leave it with me...I will know by the end of the day but...with what he was saying to you i think...well i think he is stressing over what people think of us because of him..just let me do my thing today okay? I'm not the worlds greatest detective for nothing~" you nodded still not understanding fully but you trusted Bruce and the boys they would sort it you hoped.

Finally you arrived Jason and Dick came over giving both you and Bruce hugs and picking up roman making him release a soundless squeal at being spun around. Damien was quick to bitch at them about his tummy ache and snatch him away giving the small boy a piggy back waltzing to the fair muttering about the imbeciles.

Hhow the little boy could doubt any of his brothers  could hate him was beyond you, they each doted on him spoilt him rotten! if mum and dad said no you can guarantee Dick, Jason,Damien or Tim would make it happen. Much to the annoyance of you and Bruce. Once the initial speech was over and Bruce had convinced the wealthy to start digging into their pockets a few family photos were taken. you had noticed a few whispers about Romans appearance and quickly shut up the gossipers with a deadly glare as Roman clung to either you or his dad refusing to go with Damien and Tim to the mini shooting games. You sighed when you finally got a moment to breath away from the cameras who seemed to cling to you and Roman.

It was true you didn't normally have your youngest about, it was common knowledge that he was mute and shy so the paps had been adamant that they got as many photos of the boy as they could,much to your annoyance. you swore as he held you tighter as you moved quickly loosing them in the crowds. you turned a corner and rested a hand on Romans head calming him looking around spotting Bruce who was bombarded by his 'friends' a bunch of puffed up ignorant posh clingy twats! wanting to be seen with the infamous Wayne patriarch. you looked down as Roman tugged your sleeve and pointed, you followed hi gaze to the small cup stack mini game where there was a bunch of kids lining up. you smiled down at him and nodded patting his back.

"Go on then baby, go have fun and don't let anyone ask for money! your father has paid for free reign for everyone okay?" he nodded and walked over to the back of the line. you sighed standing stiff watching him closely you noticed that Dick was also near by watching over his baby brother closely making you feel better.

Roman came to a stop looking up at the nets of huge stuffed animals they had a wide selection he smiled seeing a massive great white shark! it was taller then him! he lined up behind the other kids waiting his turn."Hi!" he turned to around seeing a little girl around his age she was dark skinned with a mass of wild natural hair in two pompoms on her head. Roman gulped looking around seeing if sh could be talking to anyone else and she giggled.

"Yes you! that shark is cool huh?" Roman was unsure what to do he didn't want to be rude but at the same time was out of his comfort zone. he settled for nodding and looked back up at it.

"Oh...your shy huh? that's okay! I'm not...You think that's the size of a real one?" she asked looking to the toy hanging above them as the line moved forward. Roman shook his head at her, he knew they were bigger his uncle Arthur had shown him a real great white shark...His mother had to be dragged off of him by uncle Clark after...even uncle Clark had trouble getting her off him..

Roman shook his head and gulped deciding to try and communicate...this girl looked nice and...he doubted she was going away soon the line was long. he blinked and took a deep breath before releasing trying to calm his heart down and made a move signaling to the toy then made a 'smaller' motion hoping she understood. She looked to him then the toy nodding.

"Yeah! your right its probably to small!! but its cool right? I've been trying to win it all day!...Got the seal though see!!" roman smiled a warm feeling slowly bubbling up she had understood. she held out her seal to him letting him prod it, it was fat and squishy making him smile.

"I'm gonna get that shark!" Roman smirked a little looking back up taking another step to the front as more kids left holding various sized sea life prizes, some looked up longingly to the line of huge sharks on the nets you had to knock all ten cups down five times to get one...

"Oooo look! look a tiger shark!! wow I want that one you think I can?!" Libby go excited bouncing up and down placing her hands on Roman’s shoulders. He turned seeing the one at the back with light blue stripes and nodded then pointed to the octopus on the shelf below

"Wow that's cool to...You gonna go for that one? or jaws~" he tilted his head and pointed to the Great white. Libby smiled standing next to him.

"I'm gonna win the tiger shark today!" Roman's eye widened as he heard a familiar laugh

"Ha like you can get that one! scrawny arms like that! you know I'm gonna get it just so you cant have it move!" Roman frowned as some bullies from his class pushed him and Libby shoving the two of them behind their group cutting the line.

"HEY! YOU CANT DO THAT! I'M TELLING ON YOU!" Roman glared at them standing between the small group and Libby. Micky the leader sneered at him.

"What Wayne got something to say? well come on spit it out! oh wait you can't- Dumbo...Don't even know how to talk~ tell me this your little girlfriend? won't even stand up for her-" Roman growled angrily as two of the boys starting mocking them

"Romans got a little girlfriend! ha! what daddy paying her to be friends with you?!" Libby began whining as they began pulling at her pompoms tugging her curly hair harshly.

"Ew look this is her hair! god its gross and fluffy!" Roman panicked and slapped at the boys hands stopping their attempts but one pushed the smaller girl to the floor out of the line as Libby began crying loudly drawing the attention of the adults around them...More specifically the attention of Romans family.

"FUCK OFF!!!" everyone froze as roman shouted to the boys loud and clear.

You had been watching as a little girl approached Roman with her toy, she seemed nice and unfazed by Romans...Situation and you felt a rush of relief as she continued making conversation with him...well Roman-esque chatter as he began pointing at the toys. You looked away as dick came over to you.

"So? things are going well...Looks like today is working huh Mum?" you smiled nodding looking to your oldest.

"Yes- I was worried but...you know I underestimate your father sometimes especially with roman.." dick smiled slinging an arm around your shoulder kissing your head.

"Do-do you know whats going on your father said something about Roman’s issue? that he as an idea but wouldn't explain more then that" dick hissed through his teeth.

"Not entirely sure myself-" you were both interrupted as you heard a loud crying form where roman was. some kids- boys from Romans class had come over and pushed the little girl down and were pulling her hair as Roman was trying to slap them away then-

"FUCK OFF!" you froze momentarily as Roman screamed at the boys and pushed with all his might making the boy loose balance and fall before crying himself. Roman stood in front of the now whining little girl shielding her from the other mean boys. You made your way over but it was to late some photographers had gotten there first and was surrounding your boy taking photos shouting out at him asking hims to 'say something else' Jason and Bruce had swooped in shoving the men out of his sons face collecting Roman and the little girl; knowing that she would also find herself questioned by the pushy journalists. you followed as Bruce continued to one of the public toilets with roman Jason followed with the little girl.

"Shit- Ro-roman oh god are you okay?" you entered just as Bruce had set him down he was bawling his eyes out panicking and holding his breath. shit shit shit. you noticed the little girl was upset and confused, she hadn't known who roman was.

you moved to crouch beside her.

"Hey poppet...are you okay?" she blinked back tears and pointed to her cut knee.

"Oh no! did those mean boys do that?" she nodded sniffling

"A-And they pulled my h-hair saying it was funny looking!! I-I like my h-hair!!" you frowned and moved to hug her careful of her cut knee.

"Oh shh shh Its okay...your hair is very pretty!" she cried louder

"I-I w-ant my mummy!"

"Whats you mummy's name- Jason can go find her do you remember what she was wearing?" she nodded choking and coughing on her sobs. you concentrated on her as Bruce and Dick helped calm down Roman.

"Joy...she has a blue dress!" you stood up but Jason was out the door returning a few moments later with the little girls mother. She looked to you and nodded thankfully as the little girl ran to her getting picked up still tearful

"Oh god Libby what happened to you? why the tears?"

"T-they were mean to him to- th-they called him names! and and made fun of him! and he tr-tried to stop them from pu-lling my hair! and-and then they p-pushed me down and I cut my knee!!!" you looked to the little girl Libby. Then Bruce who has roman in his arms now calm.

"Roman ..Those boys? they are from your school aren't they?" he nodded and you shared a look with Bruce who was rocking him back and forth still panicked himself wondering if this really was a good idea or not. But to everyone's surprise Roman spoke up in a tiny timid voice

"T-they are mean-Call me dumb....Laugh when I make sounds and laugh...Try to make me talk..Poke me with pens so I make noises" you gasped...He had never said that before...Was that? could this be it? the issues was when he made sounds they made fun and picked on him? Bruce grunted

"How long Ro? how long have they done this?" Roman shrugged and shook his head not answering for a second and Bruce pulled him back and continued in his stern no room for arguments voice

"Roman? how long have they been making fun?" Roman looked down

"Since...forever" you gasped he was being bullied at school...no wonder nothing had gotten better! normally with selective mutism as they grew up safe spaces like home and school were just that safe spaces and he'd talk confidently interact and make friends if he was being hurt at school then obviously the opposite would happen.

Damien and Tim was quiet, this was the most they'd never heard their little brother say before and it was- they were gobsmacked. Bruce sighed and nodded.

"Thank you son for telling me- you were very brave! and I'm very very proud of you...Even if it was a swear word he lifted his gaze to Damien and Tim who both gulped.

"And you were very brave to protect your friend today from those bully's....now you leave the school with me I will deal with them...Or better yet I will let your mother loose on them" as he said that all your sons shivered not wanting to cross paths with you ever they felt sorry for the teacher already. Roman gasped and looked at Bruce

"Pictures-" Bruce cupped his sons head kissing his temple

"Leave it to me- now do you want to stay and play with-" he looked to the now quiet little girl

"L-Libby sir" Bruce smiled to the polite child

"Do you want to stay and play with Libby?" roman looked to Libby who stared hopeful and nodded Bruce put him down letting him stand next to the girl he spoke in a whisper barely being heard now that he wasn't tucking himself into his fathers neck for comfort.

"I-I-I'M Ro-Roman" she smiled at him

"HI roman!! can we?- do you wanna get the sharks? and then sweets-LET GET SWEETS!!"

"Shark's?...." Roman nodded grinning looking up at Tim and Damien as they both interrupted"we will go win you the sharks...and then sweets" they looked to Libby's mother

"We will watch out for them, come on you two" you looked as the Libby looked to her mum who nodded before running over holding Tims hand Roman joined her holding Damien's.

"We will take care of them today mother meet you at the gates at four this afternoon"

"Yes you go have fun mum- I know you like the waltzers leave these two with us" you watched as they made for the exit with the tow youngsters

"Roman come and point out these kids to me and Dami-" you gasped chasing them out

"Oh no you don't!...Timothy! Damien don't you dare! you leave those boys alone! I will sort this out-" you were stopped by Bruce who was making his way out allowing the girls mother to exit first

"Y/n leave them~"

"Bruce they will beat the shit out of those kids-" he laughed winding an arm around your waist.

"No they wont...Scare them but not beat them to many witnesses~" you looked to the other woman and smiled

"Sorry about all this- would you like to get coffee? I'm sure the boys will look after them now....It seems they are on guard duty now~" she smiled and nodded still a little on edge but you were determined to become friends with this women...her little girl has done more good for your son in the last ten minuets then you and your family have managed in the last seven years!

At the end of the day you had become closer to Libby's mother Joy and had invited her over the next day for tea it turns out you and the woman had a lot in common which made things easier. you waited at the gates and laughed as not only were Tim and Dami walking out with huge stuffed animals but Dick and Jason were trailing behind each holding a collection of won prizes. Roman and Libby were both ecstatic each holding a huge shark and a few sealed bags of cotton candy.

"Oh my- Jason I never thought pink was your colour~"

"ha ha! mum real funny not these are for the little miss Libby!" the girl was bouncing on the spot

"Mummy-Mummy look Jason got me the unicorn and the minion and the batman!!! see see look mummy he won them for me! he is really good at the shooting games!!" Joy chuckled and moved around her buzzing child

"Thank you boys...she has been looking forward to this for a long time""Jason's my boyfriend to! see he won me a ring! we are getting married!" you and Bruce chuckled as Jason blushed as the Libby showed her mother the small plastic ring excitedly.

"Ah I see well we should be getting home now...Say bye bye and we will see Roman tomorrow"

"Tomorrow? oh are we coming back!!" you chuckled as she got all excited again

"No but you are coming over tomorrow to play with roman how does that sound?" she gasped and looked to you then her mum ,Roman looked hopeful at you to.

"Really?! can I bring my shark?!" you nodded

"Of course you can bring your shark now, we better get home for dinner...we will see you tomorrow Libby, see you Joy..Jason can you take them to Mrs Mouvins car!" Damien snickered

"Yeah go help your girlfriend~" Jason grunted

"Shes not my fucking-" he was interrupted by Libby coming up and grasping his hand dragging him away.

"Come on Jason! don't get lost!" you couldn't help it you laughed loudly with the boys as Jason flushed bright as the child dragged him to there car. you looked to roman

"So you have a good day?" he nodded then paused looking around blinking taking a deep shaky breath then stuttered out quiet words.

"Y-yes ....was f-fun with Dami and Tim" both of which beamed tugging him into hugs.

"Wait a go buddy!" Tim's said giving him a noogy with the flat of his fist making roman wince and chuckle softly Damien spoke up next pulling him into a tight hug.

"We knew you had it in you! first words of fuck you though? your kick ass"

"Yeah who'd of thunk it?" Tim continued Bruce folded his arms eye Damien again

"Yes I wound where he gets it from? huh Damien? I'm sure he must have heard it around the house isn't that right Damien"

"Oh shit" you smirked as you all began your trek to the car

"Oh shit is right my boy! your doing double drills tonight!"

"Huh that's not fucking fair-"

"Triple"

"What the fuck? Why?"

"Quadruple and for being a bad influence on your brother- I don't know what your laughing Timothy your spotting him to make sure he does it"

"What?! why? what about patrol?!"Tim admonished

"Dick and Jason are going with me and if there is so much as one more word about it you'll be doing it tomorrow night as well!" you snickered as both teens held there breath biting back retorts knowing Bruce wasn't fucking around. You turned peeking through the center console to look as Roman.

"AANYway Roman you don't mind having Libby around tomorrow for a play date do you?" Roman blushed as leaned back as Bruce started the car pulling away, smiling he shook his head. No he didn't mind he liked her a lot.

That was the day that changed everything. Roman had anxiety but it wasn't so much as social it was more over the family image. You learned he had been picked on for not speaking and then picked on to make him talk, then when it did make sounds they bullied him even more for making noise!! the whole vicious cycle had gone unnoticed but after one meeting with you everything was fixed. Roman still didn't speak at school it would take time but he was getting better. All in all he was stressed and anxious little boy terrified of screwing up! he didn't want to say the wrong thing in front of the paparazzi or cameras. He was aware of the family's status and had anxiety over that not necessarily people. All of this fear and stress built up on a seven year olds shoulders resulting in his Mutism. Which was now slowly going away! he spoke freely around the house, some times he stuttered and spoke in whispers but it was much much better.

Damien and Tim both loved hearing there little brother talk after going so long not hearing a peep. Both breaking down in tears when Roman first told them he loved them...Not that either would admit it but you had dealt with the sobbing teens that evening giving both long cuddles in the privacy of their rooms. thing's were looking up and with Libby coming around all the time it could only get better!. it was incredible! when with her it as like roman was free, a normal loud boisterous little boy. You were hopeful for the future especially when Bruce was paying for Libby to start school with Roman next term paying for her full education much to the reluctance of her mother. Joy didn't want to be indebted but you but had when you and Bruce explained what was going on... She couldn't refuse that it was a good idea, Libby would have a much better chance in life, for her daughters sake she agreed. and you hoped it was the next step in prying Roman out of his shell.

[we-want-mini-mini]

Because I fell in love with the previous prompt/oneshot I wrote about an OC falling into the DC universe (specifically Gotham) and wants to avoid the Vigilantes/Wayne and Co but fucking fails at it (or succeeds, who knows).

This one shot is about—

The Reluctant Executive Assistant To Lex Luthor, Who Also Is A Supervillian

Masterlist | Pervious Post Regarding This Oneshot

Warnings! Strong language, mentions of disassociation, mentions of body dysphoria, non-graphic description of violence, probably OOC Lex Luthor, shitty spelling and grammar oh my!

LIA WONDERED WHAT SHE DID TO ANGER THE UNIVERSE, what she did so heinous, so deplorable, so bastardly to be punished in this way. She reclined into her plush sofa, her eyed glazed over, as they seemingly stared beyond the cream colored walls of her small Metropolis apartment. On her coffee table, laid a stack of papers. Papers that were at least a couple inches thick, filled with long winded explanations, language that could confuse anyone, and an agreement to become Lex Luthors god damn Executive Assistant.

I’m basically going to be a glorified Secretary, for one of the most powerful men in the world... Whose also a raging fucking Supervillain too. Lia thought with a groan, rubbing her face. Her mind whirled with various thoughts, plans and so, oh so much more. The fact that she’s been offered such a prestigious job, at the tender age of 23 years old. A job as the right hand to a fucking Supervillain, Jesus Christ...

Ever since Lia woke up in her doppelgänger’s body, all those years ago, she made a decision that she would never involve herself with the various vigilantes of this world. But, considering she lived in Gotham before this, she had to cope with the fact that her city had various Vigilantes running around, doing whatever they were doing. But, Lia had the upper hand you see: the world she came from, all the Vigilantes and hero’s were fictional characters! Thus, she knew all their origin stories, secret identities and the like. In her pervious world, every kid knew that Superman was unassuming reporter Clark Kent of the Daily Planet. Who also happened to be Lia’s next door neighbor. You know what, I’m not even going to go down that rabbit hole. Nope. Nah. I’m good.

But, adjusting to life in her new body wasn’t a simple walk in the park. She had to adjust to a whole new city (perviously Lia lived in New York, which was the inspiration for Gotham but still). A whole new environment that became desensitized to the causal, practically fanatasical acts of violence ranging from man made super blizzards, the occasional alien invasion and etc. Not to mention, Lia had to cope with the fact she, in essence, lived in an entirely different body. The first two years of living in this world, Lia struggled with dissociation and body dyshoria at the fact that one: she now lived in a completely different world compared to her pervious world, and two: she inhabited a body that, yes is her, but, at the same time, wasn’t her.

Thank goodness mom realized what was happening and shipped my ass off to the few non-supervillain therapist in Gotham. Lia thought with a huff like laughter.

Her eyes then soon trailed too the stack of papers Lex Luthor gave, ones that detailed her contract of becoming his Executive Assistant. One, that would make her one of the most powerful women in the US by being the right hand of Lex Luthor. Who also is a fucking supervillain, god damn it.

Lia vowed to herself to never involve herself with the various superheroes, vigilantes, or villains of her new world. She wanted to live a normal as possible life, not wanting to have such a heavy responsibility of being a hero on her alreayd aching shoulders. She did not want to get involved in the drama that often plagued those who entered that life. She did not want to endanger her family (or herself) because she has connections with people who are vigilantes. Specifically, when she was a student at Gotham U, she avoided anything surrounding the Wayne’s (considering they are the infamous Bats and Birds that protect Gotham and her people). Likely, the only times she ever saw said infamous Vigilantes were the few unlucky times she was in a hostage situation and when she was about to be mugged those couple of times.

As far as interactions outside of their vigilante identities, she’s bumped into Bruce Wayne shopping with Damian, Stephanie, Cassandra and Tim. And oh boy, oh boy, did Lia pray to any deities out their to make sure this was the first and last time she ever met them. Her only words to Bruce Wayne (also fucking Batman) was a high pitched apology and the wish to be smited by God that very second. She’s also bumped in Dick Grayson the one time she visited some friends in Blüdhaven in a coffee shop. They struck up conversation, and it wasn’t till the end of the conversation did she realize who it was. After that, she always went out with headphones in her ears as they are the universal symbol of Don’t Talk To Me. And as for Jason, she’s seen Red Hood when she was out late at a 24/7 7/11, picking up some food. Frankly, Lia was to strung up on zero sleep and pure caffeine and spite to honestly give a single shit. Lia vaguely remembered wanting a specific thing, and Red Hood also reaching for it. She snatched said snack with a word, ignoring Red Hoods existence completely. The cashier looked like they saw a ghost but, as always, Lia was tired to give a single flying shit.

However, Lia’s paranoia didn’t simmer down. So much so, that she applied for an internship at LexCorp, her excuse being she wanted to have a change of scenery. While working at LexCorp, she gained considerable amount of knowledge and experience, but compromised with her mom that, after her internship finished up in LexCorp, she’s go to WE and work there. Lia had deep seeded concerns about working at WE, but after going back and forth in her head, she decided that, fuck it. It’s a gigantic ass company. There’s such a low percentage of me ever crossing paths with one of the Waynes and Co. Plus, mom drives a hard bargain. And damn, do I honestly miss Gotham. It’s so damn bright here. And it’s called fucking Metroplis of all things.

Before Lia could further brood about what her life had become, the sound of her doorbell flooded Lia’s ears. Lia’s eyebrows scrunched together, did I order something? But, she shrugged to herself, springing to her feet. Better find out then, I guess.

When Lia opened the door, she expected, say, a delivery person, or, a neighbor asking to borrow something. What she did not expect was her 5’3” mother, standing next to a 6-something, rather muscular, but familiar figure of—HOLY SHIT IT’S SUPERMAN, WHAT THE FUCK—

Next to her mothers petite figure, was the gargantuan stature of one Clark Kent, AKA, Superman. Lia could feel her blood pressure rise.

“Mom! Mr. Kent! What a nice surprise.” Lia said, through a tight lipped smile. Her mother simply smiled, laughing lightly.

“Habibi, it’s been such a long time—and, wait did you loose weight?” Her mother’s once smiling face turned sour, her eyebrows pinched together in worry. Her warm brown eyes trailing up and down Lia’s figure. Lia’s face immediately warmed up a few degrees, then her mother took hold of her face, examining it closer. Lia let out a indignant squawk, “Mom! Not infront of the neighbor please!”

Clark simply laughed, “No, it’s alright. I can understand a mother’s worry as my own Ma does the same thing whenever she visits.”

Her mother nodded, “See! He doesn’t mind, habibi. Now, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Mr. Kent, if you would be a dead, could help me set the food on the table?”

Clark smiles, his teeth a little too white and dazzling. “Of course! But please, call me Clark.”

Her mother laughed, while nodding. “Of course, Clark. Now, come in, come in.” Her mother said, inviting Lia’s neighbor into her apartment. She let out a sigh, moving out of the way.

Before long, Clark, Lia and her mother were setting up dinner. Somehow, someway, Lia’s mother convinced Clark to stay for dinner, while sending meaningful glances towards Lia. Lia wanted to jump out of her window. Knowing that her mother would always be her wingwomen, was, strangely nice, but this time? Trying to set her up with fucking Superman? Nope. Nah. No happening mom, no matter how hot Clark looks. Not. Happening.

Her mother, soon strikes up conversation with Clark about work. He talks about the Daily Planet, and being a reporter. Soon, the topic veers to Lia, whose honestly forgotten that Clark was Superman for a couple minutes.

“...on the topic of internships, my Lia currently interns at LexCorp, if I’m not wrong.” Her mother says, sending a pointed look to Lia.

“Uh. Yeah. I’m currently working at LexCorp as an intern.” Lia says, watching for Clark’s reaction at the fact that she works for his biggest nemesis. She can see it, the infantasmal flinch, before he relaxes again.

“Oh, is that so? From what your mother said, didn’t you live in Gotham before coming to Metropolis?” He inquires, setting down some plates on Lia’s dining table. Lia freezes up, since, she can’t just say: Well, you see, I know the identities of Gotham’s infamous vigilantes, who happen to also run and own WE.

“Well, I wanted a change of scenery really.” Lia added smoothly, taking out all the food and sorting them. She kept her face and tone neutral, watching Clark’s every move and reaction.

His face had a knowing look, as he gave a small nod. “I can understand that. Gotham and Metropolis are two very different cities and wanting a change of scenery is a fine reason for moving.”

Lia hums noncommittally, while her mother sighs. “I still wished you would’ve stayed in Gotham, you know. It’s closer and I worry for you, Habibi.”

Lia buffs through her nose. “Mom. I’m 24 and very much so capable of protecting myself, considering you were the one who taught me how to knock a man thrice my size out in a single punch since I was 7.”

Clark makes a sort strangled noise and covers it up with a cough. Lia’s mother simple sighs, her face showing her true age. “Of course your capable of defending yourself. Why would I let my daughter out and about in Gotham of all places with being able to defend herself? I just worry, ya habibi. This is a whole new city and you also live by yourself.”

“I’ve been living by myself since I was 18, mom.” Lia interjected but her mother gives her a look.

“Yes, you have been living by yourself since you were 18 but at least you were nearby. I worry, regardless of the fact.”

Lia sighs. They’ve had this talk numerous times, before Lia moved to Metropolis and before she even uttered her concerns about wanting to move. “I know.” She says softly.

The conversation dies out, as everything soon is set. However, before they could start eating, Lia’s mother spots the stack of papers.

“Lia, what with the stack of papers?” She inquired, her head gesturing to the coffee table.

“The stack of what?” Lia yelled out, as she was in the kitchen getting a jug of water. Her mother, whose curiosity guided her, got up from her seat and took ahold of the papers.

“The papers on your coffee table. What are they for?” She asked again, when she heard Lia set the jug of water down.

Lia, whose brain was preoccupied with a million other thoughts, carelessly said the phrase: “Oh, my contract to become Executive Assistant to Lex Luthor.”

Clark almost dropped what he was holding, before discreetly catching it with his super speed. Lia’s mother stilled, her eyes wide as saucers, her lips slightly parted.

“Your what to whom?” Her mother asked, her tone beyond incredulous.

Lia short circuited. She realized what she just said. In front of fucking Superman. In front of her mother. Fuck. Why does the universe hate me?

Before Clark could say anything else on the matter, his phone buzzed. The mother daughter pair snapped their gaze at Clark, whose face grew even more surprised.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I have to go. Something urgent just came up.” He said, shoving his phone back into his pant pocket. The mother-daughter pair simply nodded, as they watched a slightly frantic Clark Kent shuffle out of Lia’s small apartment.

When they heard Lia’s apartment door shut closed, her mother’s head whipped towards Lia’s. Her face went rigid, the past surprise at the new was scrubbed away, being replaced with a cold, calculative look. She gestured to Lia to sit down, at the dining table.

Lia, who simply stared at her for a while, sighed, before taking the opposite seat across from her mother. She knew this conversation will be a long one, thus, she started to pile on the food her mother brought.

“The contract in your hands, is a contract between me and Lex Luthor. It’s about me becoming his Executive Assistant.”

Her mother hummed, while also taking some food. “So, you’re going to be his right hand, essentially?”

Lia nodded. Well, sure. I’m technically a glorified secretary with a lot of power now. But sure, right hand is a lot more appealing. But she didn’t voice those thoughts, simply taking a bite of her food.

“Well, this took a turn I did not expect it too.” Her mother said with a sigh.

“You and me both, mom.”

Lia never would’ve imagined, not in a million Earths, would she become Lex-fucking-Luthors Executive Assistant. She honestly thought she would finish her internship without much fanfare and move back to Gotham to apply for a position at the WE.

“So,” her mother began, setting her fork down. “How the hell did you catch Luthors eye?”

“Well, it’s a bit of a long story but...”

A COUPLE DAYS AGO, the department in which Lia was interning suddenly lost a handful of employees who quit for whatever reason. Not to mention, an important meeting was scheduled and was now completely fucked due to these employees leaving. Plus, some other important event was also going on with some higher level execs and that was also in jeopardy. Lia, who was witnessing this utter shit storm in real time, realized, oh fuck. This is bad. Really bad. And decided to do something about it. Lia, at the time, was known in her department as someone who can manage a schedule like no ones business, convince people to do things her way like it was as easy as drinking water. She had a reputation and the department head was a chicken whose head was cut off, trying to put out the proverbial fires one by one, rather ineffectively. Lia, who made friends with various other interns in other departments (who worked with other high level employees), and who had various connections in Metropolis, was able to salvage most of the day (and subsequent week). She was able to fill in those positions rather quickly (the department head was more then happy to oblige), re-schedule the various important meetings and events that were scheduled that in under three hours after some (what Lia called) “aggressive persuasion”. Somehow, someway, the story of some intern with godly management abilities, persuasion skills made its way up to the big man himself: Lex Luthor.

When Lex Luthor heard of this, he became intrigued. Thus, he called Lia up, all the way to his office. Lia, who when was told that fucking Lex Luthor himself wanted to see her, was understandably shitting bricks. Her mind immediately went to the fact that somehow, someway, he figured out that Lia knew the identities of various vigilantes. Lia, who was reasonably terrified at the thought, began to draw up counter arguments and contingencies.

The entire way to Lex Luthor’s office Lia went through the seven stages of grief (the extra two are Denial 2 and astral projection). She thanked those she loved, and made her not peace with God. When Lia finally arrived to Luthors office, she immediately compartmentalized all her feelings, slapped on her most convincing cooperate smile, and knocked on his door, saying in the most polite and calm tone she could muster: “Mr. Luthor? You called for me, Lia al-Abadi?”

The moment she heard the muffled “come in.” Lia sent one more prayer to whatever deity out their, and strode into Luthors office.

Now, Lia has seen pictures and clips of Luthors office. But, it was one thing too see it and another to be in it. Lia, when entering the large office, with Luthor facing the window out looking Metropolis, felt her heart drop all the way to the earths core.

Her hands were discreetly balled up in her sides, her nails digging crescent shaped moons into the palm of her hand. The shirt underneath her blazer was definitely soaked through, but, thankfully, Lia wore a black blazer today, so it wasn’t that noticeable. Probably. Hopefully.

Lia took in a deep breath, trying to calm her hammering heart. “Mr. Luthor?” She called out, her voice surprisingly even. Her heart hammered against her chest, so hard, it seemed it would burst through any moment. God, what the fuck is my life anymore.

Luthor, being the dramatic ass Supervillian that he is, spun around, his hands clasped together as he faced Lia, sitting in a typical, large, black, swivel chair. The only thing he was missing was the white cat in his lap. 

Lia could feel herself die a little when she made direct eye contact with the man, the legend, the Asshole, himself: Lex god damn Luthor.

“Ah, Ms. al-Abadi, please, do sit down.” He said, his voice uncharacteristically bright and inviting. But, Lia knows better then to trust the fox when it was simling. She could see the calculative glint in his eyes. Carefully, she walked towards Luthor, who kept his picture prefect smile. The only thing that filled Lia in for the eternally long, yet short walk towards Luthor was the clicks of her heel, and her heart hammering against her eardrums.

Her hand, which she forced to keep steady, took ahold of the chair, dragging it away from the desk. The ugly screeches of the chair legs against the marble floor still reasonated through Lia’s ears. But, at least she saw the slightly—almost invisible—eye twitch that gave away his annoyance.

Lia, who kept her face devoid of any emotions, slowly sat down. Her eyes still focused on Luthors stupid smiling face.

When she sat down (finally, Jesus Christ that was a lot more anxiety inducing then I thought) she kept her back straight, shoulder squared and her hands on her lap. She could still feel her heart beating hard against her rib cage, and the million thoughts of Luthor somehow finding out about Lia and her knowledge of the identities of the various vigilantes. Her hands became clammy, her entire being screamed, I AM VERY UNCOMFORTABLE! but, Lia was stuck in between the proverbial rock and a hard place (rock: chair, hard place: Luthor’s office).

Her lips stretched into her patented cooperate smile, “You had called for me, Mr. Luthor, sir?”. Fuck my life. Lia thought, still smiling while she slowly died on the inside.

Luthor bared his teeth, lips stretched into a smile. “Please, call me Lex, Ms. al-Abadi.”

Lia, with ever cell in her very being, absolutely rebelled at the prospect of calling Lex Luthor just Lex. For one, he’s her boss, and Lia was raised to be polite. Second, Lia only ever referred to Lex Luthor either as Luthor or Lex Luthor, never just Lex. Third, Lex Luthor is a goddamn Supervillain, no fucking way am I calling him by his first name.

Lia’s fave stretched out into a tight lipped smile. “I’m afraid cannot do that, Mr. Luthor.” She said through gritted teeth, face still stretched out into a tight lipped smile.

Luthor cocked his eyebrow. “Oh? And why is that?”

For one, your Supervillain. Second, me saying your first name, and just your first name, tiggers my flight or fight response. Lia, of course, did not response to Lex Luthor’s question with that reply. Instead she said, “For one, Mr. Luthor, you are my boss and I am your employee. Employees don’t generally refer to their boss by their first names. Secondly, me referring to you by your first name implies that I am in some way, shape or form, close to you. Considering this is my first time ever meeting you personally, I can’t—” Won’t “—refer to you by your first name.”

A beat of silence. Lia, who continued to smile at Luthor as he stared at her for a good few moments, before lightly chuckling.

“Well, when you put it like that, Ms. al-Abadi, I cannot disagree. However, I do hope in the near future you would be more comfortable calling me Lex rather then Mr. Luthor.” He said, his face all smiles.

For a moment, Lia was confused. She was simply a temporary intern that would leave in about two months, how would she hypothetically warm up to Luthor enough so to call him Lex? Plus, what he said also implied that Lia would stay in LexCorp long enough to warm up to Luthor.

Then a thought crossed Lia’s mind. Wait, does he want to be my sugar daddy?? Which Lia immediately shot down, as, this is Lex Luthor, why the fuck would he be interested in being my sugar daddy? Even though I am fucking beautiful, thats for sure. But still. Lia shuddered at the thought before getting back on the topic at hand.

“Mr. Luthor, I am just a simple intern that will be leaving in about two months. I don’t understand how I would be able to get close to you enough so that I refer to you by your first name,” Lia said.

Then another thought crossed her mind, “Unless, you’re planning on making me a full time employee?” There was a slight tilt in Lia’s voice, her eyebrows slightly pinched together. Lia, however, racks her brain for any reason why Lex Luthor of all people would personally call her to his office just to say he’s going to hire her as a full time employee.

Luthor nodded, “Precisely, Ms. al-Abadi. But, I don’t just want to make you any full time employee, that would simply be a waste of your talent and potential.” He said, reaching for one of his drawers, pulling out a stack of papers.

A wave of confusion wash over Lia. Talent? Potential? The fuck did I do to catch Luthors attention of all people? “I’m not sure what you mean by my ‘talent and potential’, Mr. Luthor.” She said, while shaking her head. She honestly didn’t think of anything note worthy enough to catch a awfully busy man like Luthor.

A flash of confusion flickered through Luthors face before being plastered with another smile. “Ms. al-Abadi, I’m sure you know your reputation among the other interns, right?”

Lia’s eyes narrowed, as she hesitantly nodded. She was infamous for managing a clusterfuck of a schedule into an actual, mangable schedule. Lia was also known for her “aggressive persuasion” tactics and the like.

“Not to mention, the situation in which many employees from the department you interned in, quit. Resulting in many important events and meetings to be up in the air. Not to mention some other notable things that happened that day.” Luthor said, matter of factly.

And, he wasn’t wrong. But the fact that Luthor knew of that utter shitstorm raised more then a few alarms in Lia’s head. The situation that occurred that day was promptly swept under the rug and Lia only complained about the situation to a couple intern friends and her brother. Then, the face of Ana—an intern from the PR Department—flashed through Lia’s eyes. Lia wanted to strangle herself. Of course she told fucking loose lipped Ana about situation that never should’ve reached Luthor’s ears, god fucking damn it. No matter how much Lia wanted to groan and fight God, she kept her composure.

Lia gulped down, rubbing her hands as another smile made its way onto her lips. “Well, I simply did what had to.” I had pull so many fucking favors, and most of my god damn grey hairs are from that day, Jesus Christ. Whenever Lia remembered that day, her face (internally) soured, and the need for her to curse out God, the universe, whoever, was so great she had to bite her tongue (literally) to force herself not to go on a 20 minute rant about the entire situation. Still, even with her bubbling feelings of pure, unbridled rage, Lia kept her composure. This is a professional environment. I’m infront of my boss. Whose one of the most powerful man in the US. Whose also a raging Supervillain. I have to stay professional. Professional...

“Nonsense, Ms. al-Abadi. From what I heard, you had a situation presented to you, a situation that was falling at the seems no less—and somehow salavaged it. In under three hours, you were able to salvage the situation, reorder them schedule and was able to avert a scandal as well.”

Lia, for whatever reason, felt her face grow hot at the praise. She, of course, knew how shitty the situation became—did what she always did—complained a bit, and moved on. Planning, reorganizing, improvising plans on the go, and her “aggressive persuasion” is something Lia always did. She didn’t find such things awfully notable, as she’s been doing this sort of thing since the ninth grade.

“T-That’s—” Lia cleared her throat. “That’s quit a bit of praise, Mr. Luthor, considering I didn’t do much aside from reorganize and persuased a few people. Nothing that I consider rather notable, enough so to earn your attention.” Unnecessary attention, was left unsaid.

Luthor simply smiled, his teeth too white and straight for Lia’s eyes. “You might consider it unnotable, but I beg to differ.”

Then beg—Lia almost retorted, but she caught the phrase before it could ever leave. Fucking siblings.

Luthor pushes the stack on papers closer Lia. “Which is why—I want you, Ms. Lia al-Abadi, to become my Executive Assistant.”

Lia, when she heard the words Executive Assistant concluded that the universe hates her and that she will make preparations to fight God.

Safe to say, Lia was just offered a prestigious position, next to Lex Luthor, to be his Executive Assistant. The same Lex Luthor who is actively fighting against Superman—the Justice League at large—and it an overall Supervillain. One of Superman’s most noteworthy Supervillian. A Supervillian, who can potentially kill Superman because he has access to a grow, green rock. A Supervillian who made a clone of Superman—combing his and Superman’s DNA—to do so. The same Supervillain, who essentially was asking: “Do you want to be my right hand?”

“You want me to be your what?” Lia asked in an incredulous tone. She looked at the stack of papers and Luthor several times, while pointing to herself. “Me? A 23 year old, with barely any experience in the cooperate world, work as your Executive Assistant?”

Luthor, surprisingly, nodded, his face not showing a hint of annoyance. “Yes, I am. Of course, you should take your time to think over my offer. It is Friday, and I’ll be expecting your answer next Monday. Come to my office at 3 PM, next Monday, and we’ll talk some more, Ms. al-Abadi. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another meeting to get too.”

Next thing Lia knew, she was holding onto a stack of papers, in an elevator, going down back to her original office. When she came back, several people commented on how dazed and pale she looked. One of her supervisors even asked if she wanted the rest of the day off (as there wasn’t much left to do, either way). Lia, who was still reeling from the events that had just transpired, graciously accepted.

Lia’s mother, who kept on listening to the entire ordeal, from start to finish simply commented. “Well, damn.”

Lia groaned, her hands rubbing her face. “‘Well, damn’? That’s all you have to say on the fact that one of the most powerful man in America offering me a position as his god damn Executive Assistant?”

“Hey! It’s a lot for me to take in, and, it must a lot for you to take in.” Her mother said, reaching out, taking a hold of Lia’s hand. She gave a comforting squeeze.

“Yeah, it was...” Lia mumbled. She sighed, her eyes on the stack of papers detailing what Lia’s responsibilities were, and some other key information. The stack of papers that could change her life with a single stroke of a pen.

“So, what are you going to do? Accept Luthors offer, or...?”

“It’d be dumb for me not to accept it.”

“Damn right it would be!”

Lia shoot her mother a look, before continuing, “It’s just... I’m only 23 and me getting this job is just... There’s a lot to consider. Sure, I’m good at managing schedules, persuading people and—” Her mother snorted, waving her hand.

“Hey! I am good at all those things, you know.” Lia exclaimed, crossing her arms.

Her mother raised both her hands, shaking her head. “Never said you were bad at them, Habibi. Your a damn genius when it comes to organizing events and persuading people. Not good, not great, but a god damn genius.” Her mother voice clearly showing how proud she was of Lia.

The tips of Lia’s ears were painted bright red, as her face spilt into a grin. “Yeah, yeah, I guess I am. But, the matter at hand is that, I don’t have much experience in the cooperate world. And, I just graduated a couple months ago. Not to mention, if I accept the position, there’s going to be a lot of talk on how, I, a 23 year old, rather attractive women, who just recently graduated from Gotham U, who was just a regular intern, managed to get the position of Executive Assistant to Lex Luthor.”

Her mother sighed. “True, there definitely will be rumors regarding how earned such a position without much prior experience.”

Lia sagged in her seat, her mind a tornado of thoughts. Should she accept? Should she decline? Should she msyteriously disappear off the face of the Earth, never to be seen again? Decisions, decision, so many decisions with so many consequences and variables at play that made Lia’s head ache. She had time, but not enough. It was late in the evening on Friday, and Luthor wanted an answer by Monday afternoon. Great. Just a couple dozen hours till D-Day. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“What about a trial basis?” Her mother blurted out. Lia cocked her eyebrow, gesturing for her to continue.

“Like, what if, you were his Executive Assistant for a couple of months, on a trial basis. Just to dip your toes in and get a feel for the job. That sort of thing.” She said with a shrug.

Lia’s eyes widen, as if a light bulb went off her head. “Oh my god. Why didn’t I think of that? That’s prefect! Not only would it allow me ample time to see if I’m ready for such a position, but also invaluable experience if I were too not take the position or Luthor deemed me unworthy of it.”

With a sort of plan set in mind, Lia continued to eat, all with a smile on her face. Even if after the trial basis, Luthor deems me unfit, I still get away with a couple months worth of pay that would pay off my student loans, not to mention invaluable experience. I win regardless of the fact if I get the job or I don’t!

With the sun setting, and Lia eating her fill, while catching up with her mother on other past events, Lia can’t seem to stop smiling. Even if she’s going to become the (Reculant) Executive Assistant to Lex Luthor, who also is a Supervillian.

That’s it folks! I had a lot of fun writing this in all honesty, even though it’s not that good. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Till next time.

[supermanshield]

A Weekend in Smallville

Summary: Amid a town coming together in the aftermath of an alien invasion, Bruce meets Lana, learns a little bit more about Clark, and reflects on his place in Clark’s life and rural Kansas.

Or: Bruce in Smallville. Goes about as well as you'd expect.

Words: 7,217

Rating: Teen and up for like one swear word and mentions of sex.

Read on AO3 or continue reading here!

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Dinner had been put away and Bruce had once again taken his place at the table, papers and laptop laid out in front of him. Various people from town, and eventually some Leaguers (and shouldn’t that raise some suspicion? No one paid attention here) had been walking in and out all day to get a bite to eat. The old wooden floorboards were littered with dusty footsteps, but Martha Kent was on the couch, too exhausted from providing for everyone all day long. Jonathan wasn’t much better off after driving around town and helping his neighbors. Bruce would sweep up the dust for them when he was done working and before he flew back for the night.

“We’ve rebuilt what we can right now, with the available materials. It’s not much, but at least people will be able to sleep in their own home right now.” He must be tired too if Clark could sneak up on him like that.

“It’s something,” he sighed. “I’ve been on the phone with contractors all day to procure the necessary materials and workforce. The more elaborate structures might be repaired within the month.”

Clark grabbed a glass of water and slumped down in the chair across from Bruce. Even he seemed tired, which should be impossible, but seeing your hometown in shambles and its people in distress all day will do that. Even to Superman.

“Rest of the League?” Bruce asked.

“Barry and Hal helped all day. They went back home just now. J’onn went back to the watchtower and Diana had other matters to attend to.”

Bruce nodded. It was time he got back to Gotham as well. With a bit of luck, he could charter a jet to fly back tonight and still get a couple hours of patrol in. He told Clark as much and started putting away his papers, but Clark grabbed his hand when he went to close the laptop.  “Bruce, wait… It’s Friday, why don’t you stay the weekend?”

A weekend in Kansas, with nothing to do but help at the farm… While he loved the Kents, that wasn’t Bruce’s idea of a productive time. They still had to figure out what had led the aliens to Smallville of all places, and what they wanted. No, he could be of much more use elsewhere.

Before Bruce could reply though, Jonathan shot over his shoulder from where he was sitting in the living room, “We got that queen size bed for your room, Clark,” and Martha added, “You’re more than welcome to stay, Bruce dear.”

Great. Clark looked at him expectantly, still holding his hand. “It’ll be fun. And wouldn’t it be easier to start investigating here what those aliens wanted?” Clark knew exactly what to say to keep him around. He had other obligations, though.

“You know I can’t.”

“Aww, come on, Dick and Tim can watch over Gotham. And they’ll have backup from Cass, the Birds of Prey…” Clark’s voice faded, his eyes drifting down. “And you have to let those ribs heal properly. Finally.”

Something in Clark’s voice said he would just keep Bruce here if he threatened to fly back tonight. Bruce sighed. The only appealing thing about the queen size bed was the fact that he and Clark didn’t have to literally sleep in each other’s arms all night like before. Although it was going to be another warm night so he might just kick Clark out anyway. He could sleep floating in the air for all he cared.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll just have to make some phone calls to set things in motion back home.”

--- 

The new queen bed stood proudly in the middle of Clark’s small room, with Clark seated on the edge now, observing Bruce put his things away and taking off his jacket. At least Alfred had packed one extra set of clothes.

When he was done, he turned around and looked at Clark, who looked as if he was debating a life or death situation, and as always, Bruce wondered what he would ask. It didn’t take long.

“Wanna go out tonight? Have you ever been to a real midwestern bar?” Bruce only knew of one bar in Smallville, and it was in no condition to operate right now. Still, he felt a vague sense of excitement at Clark asking him out in his hometown. They hadn’t done that before. Every time they had been in Smallville together so far had been for something serious. Clark’s parents, Clark’s temporary loss of powers, Kara, Conner, and even once for Damian, to recover from a nasty concussion.

“It’s open? Didn’t half the roof and the back wall get blown up?” he asked Clark.

“Already boarded up. And yeah, there’s a lot of people there. Something about celebrating your whole town surviving an intergalactic attack, maybe, who knows.” Clark shrugged.

“Hmm. They got karaoke?”

Clark’s eyes shot wide open. “Yeah!”

“One of those bull-riding things? Because I would beat the crap out of everyone.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but no. There’s another bull you can ride though,” Clark grinned and hooked his fingers through Bruce’s belt loops to pull him close. He felt his heartrate spike and really, this is why they should’ve just gone back to Gotham.

“Not here.”

“Jeez, no, of course not.” Clark kept looking up at him though, still waiting for an answer. He was truly tired, but also mildly curious to Smallville nightlife. If anything, Clark would make it more fun. Maybe he could beat him at pool or darts or something, and then maybe they could make everyone and themselves believe that they were normal and just have an average date night out.

“Alright, just not too long. And I’m gonna beat you at whatever bar games they got,” Bruce grinned.

“At karaoke?”

“Maybe we’ll do a duet, who knows,” He winked and freed himself from Clark’s grasp. The other man stood up and hooked his arm through Bruce’s offered one. “What say you, Clarkie? Let’s get to that bar o’ yours,” he continued in his worst midwestern accent.

“Not like that you aren’t. You’ll stand out way too much in your dress shirt and Armani pants.” To his horror, Clark turned around towards the closet in the corner of the room. Oh no, whatever he kept here was probably worse than the rainbow cacophony of shirts he had in Metropolis.

“Short sleeves or long? It’s pretty warm.”

Bruce debated his options. Better get this over with quick and hopefully painless. “Long, and I’m keeping the pants. I am not wearing your old jeans.”

Clark threw a shirt at him. “This one has the most black I think.” It had black alright. And red. Straight-up lumberjack. At least the fabric felt nice. “I’ve also got an old blue and white Henley, but it’s pretty worn down. What do you think?”

“I’ll go with the lumberjack,” Bruce mumbled.

 ------------------------------------------------

"Lana, Pete! How are you?" Clark hugged his friends in the middle of a loud, crowded bar, filled with the continuous strings and drums of country music. They had been here for just over an hour and Bruce was on his second beer, something he didn’t do all that often. They kept getting interrupted by people that knew Clark, and Bruce was enjoying himself less and less. Lana he hadn’t met before yet, though, and he had to admit to a quiet curiosity, with the way Clark talked about her and all. (Clark’s enthusiastic ‘My friends are your friends’ from earlier rang in his ears and he forced his mouth into a smile. He would do anything for that man.) His train of thought got interrupted by Clark’s warm hand on his shoulder. "This is Bruce!"

Lana was dressed in jeans and a blue t-shirt that didn’t completely cover her shoulders, her auburn curls doing that instead. Bruce grabbed her hand to shake it, but it got answered swiftly by a peck on his cheek. He introduced himself to Pete as well, a scrawny guy, who was somehow allowed to wear a crisp white dress shirt, unlike Bruce. He was starting to feel like maybe Clark had played him and shot him an accusatory look.

Lana turned back to Clark. "We came over as soon as we heard you were in town! Couldn't pass up the opportunity you know?"

"Great to see you Clark,” Pete joined in. “And, you know, Smallville could really use some extra hands right now.”

Clark laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, gee, what did you guys get yourselves into this time?” Before the alien invasion became the talk of the day, he quickly changed the topic. "How's little Clark?"

"He's great! We’re lucky we could get a babysitter this late, but... Are you still here tomorrow? You should come by to see him!"

"We’d love to, yes.”

The conversation carried on for a while, as Clark and his friends obviously had a lot to catch up on. Bruce felt strangely intruding. He considered to start looking for that darts game, right as Lana turned to him.

"So, Bruce, how are you? You from around here?"

"Gotham.”  

"Oh, one of Clark’s city friends! What's it you're doing all the way out here?"

"Bruce is my boyfriend," Clark said and grabbed his hand.

"Oh, Clark... Really? That's awesome!" She turned to Bruce. "I've heard him drop the name a couple times… Didn't know you were so handsome!"

"And I'm a billionaire, too!" Bruce chimed, automatically kicking into Brucie mode. Clark rolled his eyes.

“Wait? Bruce Wayne? The Gotham pl… philanthropist?”

“That’s me.”

Lana’s whistle got lost in the music, but the look she sent Clark said it all. "Wow, Clark, not becoming a gold-digger are we...?" Clark put up his hands in defense, but she continued quickly. "How did you two meet again?" Clark’s flat "work"  got lost in the music too, and Bruce didn't hear anymore after that, because he could see the wheels turning in Lana’s head as she turned back to Clark and made some joke about journalistic integrity. Her whole expression had changed though, and Bruce turned away from the bar to start walking towards the exit. Fresh air. Did he make a mistake? Slip up? Maybe it was the beer. He needed fresh air. The door was too far and it took too long to push through everyone, but eventually the stars looked down at him, the door slammed shut and the music got abruptly replaced by late-night Kansas silence.  

Bruce looked around himself and quickly regained control of his breathing. The parking lot was half-empty, Clark’s beat up truck tucked away in the far corner. He’d be out here soon. He was probably making excuses to Lana and Pete right now to start looking for Bruce.

It wasn’t long before he heard the old rusty door slam shut again.

“She knows.” The calm in his own voice surprised Bruce. 

Clark walked up to him. “She's the first person I ever told."

"You saw the look in her eyes, she's putting one and one together right now, and I…"

“Bruce, stop. You don’t know that, and besides, I trust Lana.”

“You could have at least told me, warned me.” Trust was a burden in Bruce’s life, and an unnecessary slip-up had revealed who he was. He should have asked Clark who they could have run into, a stupid mistake. "I'm walking back to the farm," he said resolutely.

“Hey, what? It’s fine. Stay.” Clark grabbed his hand, but Bruce quickly pulled away. He really didn’t have time for this.

“I’m done here. This was a mistake,” he bit back, and turned around to start walking towards the exit of the parking lot.

"At least take my car? Bruce?"

"No."

Clark was beside him before he could blink. "Bruce."

"I'm walking to the farm and taking my car back to the airport and to Gotham. I'll have Alfred prepare some documents and have a hefty sum of money send Lana's way."

“What? Bruce, baby no, you don't have to do that,” Clarks hand were on his shoulders and he was forced to look straight into those blue eyes. Unobscured by glasses. Idiot. “Lana is my oldest friend. I trust her. Look, I’m sorry this happened. But maybe she hasn’t figured it out and we can still…”

“It’s too late for that. All I can do now is make sure nothing else gets compromised.”

“For fucks sake, Bruce, I’m trying to tell you, it won’t.”

“Until it will.”

Clark let out a huff of breath and closed his eyes. “At least talk to her.”

If it were anyone other than Clark, he would have just walked away. But alas, here he was, with Clark in front of him. The only man that could convince him to do something as ridiculous as wearing a lumberjack to a midwestern bar, and reason his way into Bruce’s mind just like he had wiggled his way into Bruce’s heart. Bruce crossed his arms. “Fine.”

“Good.”

“I’m still walking back to the farm.”

“No karaoke?”

“Forget it, Clark.”

“Ok, whatever, you’re tired. Get some rest. I’m gonna hang around here a bit longer. Here,” Clark pressed his car keys into Bruce’s hands and kissed him on the cheek.

When Clark was back inside the bar, Bruce debated walking back anyway and tossing the keys somewhere in a field for Clark to find. Exhaustion soon enough took over his anger though, and the adrenaline dissipated. Clark should consider himself lucky.

 ---

Clark’s ‘I’m sorry’ and chaste kiss on his forehead woke him up briefly barely an hour after he’d gone to bed.

“Still mad.”

He heard Clark flop on to his back and chuckle quietly. “And still here.”

“Quite the observation you made there.”

“Well, I learned from the best.”

“Obviously.”

Whatever Clark said after that was lost on him, and he turned around again to face the other way and closed his eyes.

  ------------------------------------------------ 

The next morning, as Bruce walked down the creaky stairs, hair still damp from his shower, the smell of fresh coffee approached him pleasantly. There was a lot more work to do in town, so Bruce had really made an effort to get up early, but he still found Clark at the kitchen table with a half-eaten stack of pancakes before him. There was toast, yoghurt and fruit laid out for Bruce. Martha knew him well.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” he asked Clark as he took his seat. Jonathan walked in through the kitchen door, his brow already covered in sweat.

“Dang dust is making it so much harder to clean,” he said as he wiped his handkerchief over his forehead.

“Oh shush Jonathan, you need to eat something and drink plenty water. The boys will be there to help soon.”

“I’m staying all week, pa,” Clark clarified.

“Alright,” Jonathan said after he gulped down his water. “Just came back to get some more tools.” Martha walked him to the door and Bruce heard her say to slow it down, especially in this heat and Jonathan’s yes, yes you know me probably sounded funny to himself, but clearly not to Martha.

Clark looked at him over the cup of coffee he was pouring for Bruce. “So I take it you’re staying?”

“If you’ll have me, yes.” He still wasn’t sure how to feel about what happened last night. It seemed like something so avoidable, something Damian would definitely pin on him for being careless. And his son would be right. As much as he wanted to blame Clark, it was largely his own fault. The wrinkles disappeared from Clark’s face as he smiled and passed him the coffee.

“J’onn contacted me about the aliens this morning. They’re Zandrian. He’s been interrogating them, and it seems as if they were looking for some signal here.”

Here, as in Smallville. “Your Kryptonian ship.”

“Most likely, yes.”

“And why is it still here?”

Clark swallowed his bite. “Thought it was harmless. It’s never sent out any kind of signal, not now either. Nothing I can sense at least.”

“Radiation?”

“Perhaps. So, that’s what we’re doing today. I’m taking the ship to the north pole and I wanted to ask you if you could take a look at the barn.”

That sounded like a plan. Something where Bruce could be useful. “Okay. I’ll need some instruments from the cave though.”

“I’ll pick up whatever you need. But first… Baby time!” Clark grinned. Bruce nearly choked on his coffee. “Eat your breakfast. Lana’s expecting us.” Clark got up and started putting things away, clearly way too excited for this.

“I have to see her right now?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He quickly drank the rest of his coffee. “The sooner, the better.”

“No scary batshit, Bruce,” Clark pointed a finger at him. “We’re there for the baby.”

 ---

Lana and Pete’s place was another old farmhouse, not too far from the Kent’s, so they walked there. Lana inherited it from her aunt after having lived with her most of her life, Clark told him. Bruce had sweat stains under his arm by the time they reached the house. Maybe he should have opted for one of Clark’s t-shirts and ugly cargo shorts today.

The breeze blowing through Lana’s living room and being out of the sun helped though, and Lana served them lemonade with ice cubes. Bruce sat down on a chair and Clark took his place on the large couch.

“I’m sorry Pete couldn’t be here, you know how he is with the store.”

“Is it bad? We can go help if he needs,” Clark offered, verging on apologetic.

“He’ll be fine. I’m sure you both have more important matters to attend to.” She looked at Bruce when she said it, and he cleared his throat.

“Just. Make sure he asks if he needs. We can provide,” He settled on, hoarsely. The bat was barely audible in his voice and Clark should be proud. He nodded at him from where he was sitting on the couch. It could wait.

They got startled by a baby’s cries, and Lana disappeared out of the living room. She came back in with Clark (the name still irked Bruce, even though Clark had told him the child wasn’t named after him but after Martha’s maiden name – because yes, that made it less weird somehow). “Look who’s awake!”

The child on Lana’s arm looked around drowsily, clearly unsure how to feel after waking up from his nap and being greeted by two strange men. 

Clark reached out his hands and Lana placed the baby in his lap. Bruce knew he was around 5 months old. Clark had been there for the birth but hadn’t had much opportunity to see him after that. Lana sent him many pictures and videos though, that Clark would show Bruce late at night in bed, and they would laugh at the child’s antics and giggles. The learning curve of young people was incredible.

The child was slowly waking up in Clark’s arms and started making more sound. Not crying, he was content, and Bruce wondered if he knew instinctively that Clark’s arms were the safest place on earth. “He likes me,” Clark grinned up at Lana when the baby grabbed his fingers.

“Of course.”

Bruce felt stuck in place, captivated by the sight. Clark looked so incredibly at home, so natural with a child in his arms that held on to Clark’s pointer finger with a force as if he did it every day and was decidedly not named after Clark. Bruce quickly swallowed around the lump forming in his throat before his thoughts would betray him anymore and moved from his chair over to the couch to sit next to Clark.

When Lana walked back into the living room with pie, she took a picture of them, and that would probably make this day a lot harder to look back on later, but right now Bruce didn’t care. The baby was on Clark’s lap, looking up at both of them and laughing. Definitely at Clark sticking out his tongue and making cooing sounds. Bruce didn’t do that. Until he found himself mimicking the baby and trying to get him to laugh. Damn mirror-reflexes.  

He tried not to think about what he had missed out on with Damian. What Damian had missed out on. Instead he put a hand on Clark’s back, and held it there while they both continued to make ridiculous sounds and faces at little Clark.

 ---

When Clark left to take the rocket ship to the North Pole, Bruce went to work on the barn. Though, not before he did change into Clark’s old Henley and cargo shorts. Alfred would kill him if he got any more dust on his nice clothes.

The hatch in the floor of the barn was open, and the space underneath now empty. There had been some radiation coming off of the ship itself, but it was faint and not nearly enough to hurt anyone. Bruce doubted he would find any more in the rest of the barn, and considered other forms of signals the aliens could have picked up. Lower frequency wave lengths, maybe.

Nonetheless, he went around the hole in the ground methodically, scanning every scrap piece of metal, rock, and dirt. He swept it clean too, and took any tools that were still there out to examine them later in the barn. There was a large box, all the way at the back, that he skipped at first, but knew he eventually had to get back to as well. Getting it out was no problem, he could lift it over his head and slide it onto the barn floor easily, but he had a feeling what might be in there.

After cleaning the other tools and logging anything of interest he could find on the metal and rocks, he went back to the box and opened it. Sitting on the floor, he stared down at pictures of Clark, a baseball and bat, scrap of red fabric, a pair of extremely worn down and no-longer-white converse.

“Haven’t seen that thing in a while.” Jonathan’s voice startled Bruce as he walked into the barn and took his cap off.

“Hmm. Sorry, I was cleaning, we thought…”

“I know. You don’t have to apologize. I’m sure you know what you’re doing.”

“What happened to the baseball?” Bruce held up the ball, split clear in half and its threads loose.

“Was the first one Clark hit clear across Smallville. I looked for it for six months on the other side of town,” Jonathan answers proudly. “The shoes are from when he first outran the car.”

“That must’ve been something,” Bruce huffed. He got up. “So this is a reminder. Of what he can do.”

“Oh, I don’t need to be reminded of that,” Jonathan Laughed. “But I kept the memories because I knew he could never belong to us. Never belong here. He belongs to everyone, out there.”

Bruce thought about that. In Smallville, Clark was clearly at home. “I don’t know. I think he belongs right here, in the center of it all. I haven’t seen him so relaxed and… happy in a long time.”

“Bruce, son. As much as Clark is still a small-town boy - and will never not be -, I know he is happy right where he’s supposed to be, with you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he told me.”

As Jonathan left the barn again, Bruce felt in the back of his mind the creeping feeling that he could never give Clark what he had left behind here. That he could never be what Clark truly wanted. Because as much as he hated Smallville’s openness and missed the gothic stoicism of Gotham, this place was everything Clark stood for. It was everything Bruce was not. Somehow, somewhere along the way, a mistake had been made, one that Bruce would have already undone were he a stronger and less selfish man.

  ------------------------------------------------

Bruce would never tell the man as much, but Martha’s sandwiches were far superior to Alfred’s. Maybe it had something to do with working outside all day that made the sandwiches waiting for him taste just that much better.

He had considered multiple times during the day to beam up to the watchtower, but he didn’t have his suit, and finally settled on just contacting J’onn about his progress with the aliens and the mediocre findings of his work in the barn. Maybe it could help, as J’onn was still in contact with the creatures after they had quickly been escorted away by the Green Lanterns. Hopefully, some negotiations were all that was needed to keep them away.

 ---

As the day progressed, and Clark didn’t return, Bruce worked himself to a sweat multiple times. In Smallville, he wasn’t expected to be Brucie Wayne, because no one knew who that was. But he wasn’t Batman either. It was as if he was back in training, another nobody working long days in the sun, sweat forming a sheen on his skin, and exhaustion putting him to sleep in the afternoon heat on the porch. No, he decided, this was as far from his training days as possible, and allowed himself to relax.

As the sun started setting, he ended up in the kitchen with Martha to prepare dinner. She knew he wasn’t very skilled around the stove – courtesy of Alfred’s warnings -, so he was put on vegetable cutting duty. That was fine. He used to do it all the time with Alfred as a child and still did sometimes. The methodical slicing of the bell peppers, potatoes and onions kept him focused and calmed him down.

Just as dinner was almost done and they were cleaning up the kitchen, a familiar sound followed by creaking floorboards and the opening of the screen door made Martha jump. Bruce smiled. Maybe the smell of dinner had made Clark fly back a little faster.

“Oh, Jonathan! He’s back!” Martha shouted while putting her tea towel down and practically skipping towards the screen door. “Hey, ma. Pa,” Bruce heard from his place in the kitchen.

“Are you okay? We got worried, you stayed away so long…”

“I’m fine, ma. Just some miners in South-Africa that got stuck.”

“Told you the boy was fine, Martha.”

Bruce washed his hands and was drying them when he walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, where an adult, 6 foot 3 tall man in a Superman suit was hugging his aging and tired parents. Bruce felt painfully out of place, but it quickly subsided when Clark looked up at him. “Hey. Little detour there.”

“So I heard.”

Clark walked over to him and kissed him chastely on the lips. It was the kind of kiss you give your significant other in front of your parents or your children, or when you return home from work after a long day. A type of kiss they had shared many times, to the children’s (and especially Damian’s) horror, but that here, in Smallville, made Bruce feel as if they were normal. As if they could be normal. As if he always helped Clark’s mom with dinner and worked long hours in the sun with his dad. Though, as quickly as the kiss ended, the feeling fleeted and Bruce felt like himself again. They broke apart and Clark looked him up and down.  

“You look dashing in that ensemble Bruce, who picked that for you?”

Right. He was still wearing the Henley. And the ugly shorts. A pair of his own limited edition and now-brown sneakers to top it off. “Oh, thank you, just a simple get-up I found in the dumpster here.” He made his way over to the stairs, and Clark followed him with a grin.

“You boys be down soon, dinner is ready and I’m setting the table outside,” Martha warned as they made their way upstairs.

In Clark’s small bedroom, they both changed into something more appropriate, and Clark combed down his wind-swept hair. Bruce turned to look at him and waited for him to be done.

“Your ship?”

“Buried it next to the Fortress.” Bruce nodded approvingly. Clark set down the comb, but as he did so he stared out the window into seemingly nothing, his brows furrowed and drawn together. The miners. Bruce walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Clark sighed, but still pulled Bruce into a hug. “Thanks for asking.”

Clark hugged him with an intensity that made it clear that it was needed much more than the kiss from before. “Just… It was stressful,” he sighed. “Those miners. I couldn’t just drill them out, it took hours.”

Bruce nodded and angled his face towards the crook of Clark’s neck. He smelled like dust and a vague hint of sea-salt, and definitely needed a shower, but the crisp clean t-shirt was all Martha’s laundry detergent. As they stood, Bruce felt the tension leave Clark’s shoulders and his grip loosen, and he looked back up at him. Clark’s eyes had regained their usual shade of blue and the lines had disappeared from his forehead.

Bruce tried a smile and grabbed Clark’s hand. “Come. Dinner’s waiting.”

 ---

After dinner, Clark somehow got them excused from doing dishes and took Bruce by his hand out into the garden, and to the barn. Bruce thought about telling him about the box he found, but didn’t. Instead, Clark asked if he wanted to for a walk and grabbed a picnic blanket.

Their walk was laced only with the sound of cicadas, and took them away from the farm uphill where the low grass gave way to bushes and trees. They stopped at the top of the hill.

“I don’t know why it is you’re taking me here,” Bruce said as Clark laid down the blanket on a patch of very dry grass.

“I thought we could enjoy the night together. Just the two of us.” Clark’s smile was much too innocent as he sat down and patted beside him for Bruce to sit.  

“We had a fight.”

“Yes. And I love you. Please tell me you haven’t been thinking about that all day. I thought we were okay just now.”

Bruce sighed. “My secret identity got exposed. I’m not okay with that.”

“You wanna talk about it? Did you get a chance to talk to Lana?” Clark prompted.

“Not yet. But I’m… sorry. For the way I reacted last night.” He sat down next to Clark on the blanket.

“I’m sorry too. I should have let you know.”

“Does Pete know?”

“Yes, although he doesn’t really acknowledge it. We barely talk about it.”

Bruce huffed out a breath of air. They were surrounded by small, green trees that gave way to a view of the corn and grain fields below. The sun was inching closer to the horizon and it had finally started to cool down a little bit. Next to him Clark was looking at him, but he wasn’t sure what to say.

Clark shifted and settled behind Bruce, trapping him in between his legs and large arms, which Bruce allowed. It was painfully clear that Clark knew just what Bruce needed, and where that used to irk him to the core and make his skin crawl, he now welcomed it, leaned back, and let himself relax. It was easier to talk when you didn’t have to look the other person in the eyes.

“That should have been you, Clark,” he started. “A house in Smallville, wife, child... sometimes I don’t understand why you left this place at all.” This whole weekend felt like the first time he was really in Smallville and had seen what made Clark, Clark. A reality that he wasn’t a part of and only allowed a glimpse of, by some miracle.

“So you do like it here,” Clark said. When Bruce didn’t say anything to that, he continued: “I knew I had to give that up a long time ago. And, just between you and me, I'd say we have the most awesome family in the universe.”

“But we'll never have that. A child all our own. You could have.”

“I know,” Clark whispered into his hair. “Is that something you would have wanted? If…”

“Even if it was technically possible, the moral implications are just... I wouldn't want to bring a child into this world. Into our world,” Bruce mused out loud.

“But It is technically possible. Conner.”

“Conner is a clone. And we’re lucky we found him when we did.” He had turned into a wonderful kid, a good crimefighter even, but he had his unpredictability. They didn’t know nearly enough about his physiology, his lifespan, his unpredictable moods. Clark squeezed his hand.

“And if we were normal?”

If they were normal, Clark would have stayed in Smallville, and they would have never met. And Bruce, as a rule, did not think in hypotheticals. Not like this. Yet, he heard himself answer without hesitation.  “Yes.”

“Me too,” Clark’s lips were on Bruce’s ear in a way that was not quite a kiss. It was an affirmation, taking Bruce in, this moment, his scent mixed with that of Kansas, and a gush of breath that ghosted through Bruce’s hair. Clark’s breathing was grounding, a dull constant in the midst of the song of the cicadas, the feeling of dead grass under his toes and the Kent’s old picnic blanket under his fingers. It was all wrong.

“Don’t you wonder what would have happened if you had stayed? With Lana?”

“Once or Twice, a long time ago. But I left here to find myself. I never fit in here, never really belonged here. You know that.”

“You do, though. You’re much happier here. Yourself.” Bruce turned to meet Clark’s blue eyes, the smile lines visible even on Superman’s perfect skin. “And I don’t,” he breathed in. “I don’t fit in here. With you.” The smile lines disappeared.

“Bruce… Why would you think that?”  

“I feel like this is the first time I’ve ever really been in Smallville. Stopped and looked around. Like I’ve finally seen the last piece of the puzzle that is you.”

“And everything else completes it. You complete it. I belong to you.” Clark put a hand over his heart. “And you belong to me. Don’t you ever forget that.” Clark’s blue eyes under his furrowed brows pierced right into his soul, something he had discovered a long time ago he could not ignore.

In a different life, Clark might have stayed in Kansas. As it was, they had found each other elsewhere amid their hectic lives, in some twisted inescapable fate. An alignment. 

“Hn. You’re still a Kansas boy at heart.”

“And you like that.” Clark’s smile was back. The one that regardless of the Kansas sun or Gotham greys or Metropolis shine brightened up his life and Bruce found himself smiling back in return.

“Can’t say that I don’t.”

“So… now that you’ve got me completely figured out…”

“Hmm?”

“Where do we go from here?”

“We have sex. That is why you brought me here, right?”

“Bruce!” Clark covered his mouth with his hand in a fake gasp. “I can’t believe you think of me that way.”

“But you did.”

“Can’t say that I didn’t,” Clark smirked, put his hand on the back of Bruce’s neck, and kissed him.

 ------------------------------------------------

In the middle of the night, the queen bed was too big and Clark should be right on him, spooning him, and cooling him with freeze breath. So Bruce rolled over into his space, and Clark – half asleep – happily put his arms around him. He could be a selfish man if Clark was too.

 ------------------------------------------------

On Sunday morning, the clouds started gathering and simultaneous to the electric tension of a storm building in the air, the people of Smallville let out a collective sigh. Soon, they would get some rain.

After a quiet Sunday breakfast and Clark’s parents had returned from church, it was off to town in Clark’s old truck. Jonathan had taken his newer one, full of materials and tools, and Clark and Bruce would do clean-up together and haul away rubble to a nearby depot. Main street already looked more lively than the day before, with most of the rubble gone and gathered in piles. People were walking around and making small talk, a stray door was being hung back into its hinges. The few buildings that had any structural damage had been taped of, and shattered windows had been boarded up, but the wind had picked up and blew the dust away, clearing the air and everyone’s mood.

 On the way to and from the depot, Clark rolled down the windows and sung along with the songs on the radio, missing some of the words and looking over at Bruce every now and then.

He watched Clark, sunshine ever present in his skin and smile. How he was in such good spirits while literally cleaning his hometown after an alien attack was lost on Bruce. But then again, Clark was usually in a good mood if he was able to help someone. Even though he was doing it as Clark Kent now, and couldn’t use his super strength to haul stuff into the truck, or maybe because of that.

“It’s fine, B.”

Bruce hummed in response.

“I hope you had a good time here, despite everything.”

“I’m still having a good time now.” He immediately regretted saying that, because Clark mistook it for him liking his singing and continued on for the remainder of the ride. Really, it was Clark’s enthusiasm that made it tolerable. Bruce felt content to just watch, and breathed in the Kansas air, and tried to store away this memory forever.

 ---

When they were back in town, Clark stayed to help Pete at the store while Bruce went to the local hardware place to get some more supplies. He found what he needed and was waiting in line when he felt someone approach him from behind.

“Hey, Bruce.” He turned around to face her.

“Lana. Hello.”

“You got something that needs fixing?” she smiled at the small box of screws and plugs in his hands. He looked at the people in line behind her, all getting something, even if it was just a nail to hang up a picture that had come off the wall during the attack.

“More than one thing, I’m afraid.”

Lana huffed. “Smallville will be fine. I hope you’ve been enjoying your weekend here at least?”

“It’s been…” Eye-opening. New. Necessary. “Different,” he settled on.

“Ha! I believe that, coming from the big city and all.” That obviously wasn’t what he meant, but he assumed Lana knew that.

It was Bruce’s turn to pay. He put down a 20 and accepted his change, stepped aside to let Lana pay. “Walk with me,” he commanded when she was done. They reached Clark’s truck in the middle of the sunlit parking lot. Bruce held on to the keys in his pocket and missed the protective confining warmth of his cowl.  

When Bruce didn’t say anything, Lana cleared her throat. "The way Clark talked about the bat always made me think he was in love with him. Glad to see it worked out." It was a good thing Lana was just as blunt as Clark. Something about rural Kansas, he thought. He couldn't help but feel a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

"Sorry, it just wasn't hard to connect the dots. You’re him, right?”

Without hesitation. "Yes." The things this town did to him were beyond his understanding. Small town life brought out the truth easily. Here, there were no covers required, no masks. It’s the same reason why he could have found the last piece of Clark, only here.

"Look, Bruce. I know how important the whole secret identity thing is to Clark. Think he can count on one hand the people that really know him."

"More like three hands now with my children and the league." There was that incessant tug at the corner of his mouth again.

"You're a father."

"Not in the most traditional sense of the word, but yes." He leaned against the door of the car. Lana seemed to think about that. Batman and Robin. What it implied. Bruce braced himself for the passion of a young mother, but it never came. Instead she swallowed.

“I did love Clark once, but I knew I could never be what he needed. I’m glad he found someone,” she paused. Looked up at Bruce with her brows drawn together. "Your secret is safe with me Bruce."

That was the issue, though. No secret is ever safe with anyone, because then it wasn’t a secret anymore. He gritted his teeth, swallowed. He thought of Clark, how he would put his warm hand on his shoulder if he were here right now, how he would say once again that it was fine, Lana could be trusted. Clark’s closest friend, first love, and the person that knew him best before he became who he had to be. Lana was to be trusted. Bruce sighed.

"I just need you to sign some documents, and get your contact information in case something gets compromised."

Lana nodded. "Sounds fair."

He opened the car door and climbed in. Lana put her hand on the open window. “It was nice meeting you, Bruce.”

“Likewise.” He paused. “I’ll make sure Clark gets you those documents.”

“Alright,” Lana laughed and waved at him as he started the car. He wondered how much of Clark had rubbed off on her during their childhood friendship and dating through high school. Or maybe it had been the other way around. Clark probably wouldn’t be who he was today without her, or without anyone here for that matter.

------------------------------------------------

The jet was placed imminently in front of them, Smallville and its normalcy reduced to a memory on the far horizon. Bruce turned around and looked at Clark, his hair windswept and glasses placed awkwardly back on his nose. Here to see him off to Gotham.

“Thank you for having me.”

Clark laughed. “Thanks for staying.”

“I would almost say it would be acceptable to do this again some time.”

“Almost?”

“Well.” Bruce shrugged. “Minus the alien invasion.”

“Of course. 4th of July? Bring the kids?”

“That could turn out worse than an alien invasion,” his own laugh surprised Bruce.

“I mean… we’ll have Alfred to keep them in check,” Clark argued. “Ma would love having all of them over.”

“I’ll give it some consideration, then.”

“Hmm, so that’s a yes?” Clark grabbed his waist and brought his face close to Bruce’s. His triumphant, beautiful grin was the most annoying thing in the world that Bruce could only wipe off with a long, slow kiss. 

Behind him, the engines of the plane roared and it was really time to say goodbye. To Clark, if only for a couple days. To Clark’s parents. To Kansas. Godawful, unpredictable, and beautiful Kansas. Just like its most important (former) inhabitant.

 ------------------------------------------------

Out of the window of the jet, he watched Clark, the town, and finally the cornfields disappear, and he sighed contently. Smallville. His secret was safe here.

[cdelphiki]

Father came the next morning, just as he’d promised on the phone. 

Yesterday, Damian had been looking forward to this. A lot. He hadn’t seen his father much since moving to Metropolis, so the prospect of spending the entire day with him had been very exciting. Even if they were going to stay in Metropolis. Sure, Damian missed Gotham, but it was his Father he’d missed most.

But after his and Tim’s conversation the night before, Damian’s excitement had turned to apprehension. 

He wasn’t afraid of his father. He knew Father would not hit him in public. That wasn’t something he’d ever done. To any of them. He wasn’t even afraid he’d hit him in private. Because, really. Father had to be pushed. 

It was just the realization that…that was a possibility. At some point. In his life. That the man who claimed to love them all was capable of such a thing…

Well. The thought had kept Damian up all night. 

“You all right?” Clark had asked, at around 4am when came out to the living room, where Damian was swatching out the paints Tim got him. He’d never been one to just stay lying in bed when it was obvious sleep was never going to find him. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, mixing up his next color to swatch out. So far, each color had been insanely vibrant. Very saturated. They were interesting paints, for sure. He’d probably need to mix in other paints to help balance them out, though. His oil paints might mix well with these. That should be what he tested out next. 

Clark stood behind him and watched him work for a moment, his hand resting on Damian’s shoulder. It was incredibly relaxing, and since Clark was likely listening to his heartbeat, there was no doubt the stupid alien knew that and that’s why he kept it up. 

Honestly, the lack of privacy he got in this house. 

“I don’t know what you and Tim talked about,” Clark said slowly, after a moment, “but clearly it’s bothering you. If you want to talk to me about it, I’m right here.”

Well, okay. Maybe he got some privacy. It’s not like Clark could help the fact he could hear Damian’s heart-rate. It was probably as natural and normal to Clark as Damian seeing someone produce tears or hearing their breath catch. 

“Yeah, I know,” he said, maybe a little more testily than Clark deserved. But it didn’t deter Clark. No. Instead, he sat in the chair next to Damian and left his arm back around Damian’s shoulders. 

That was probably one of the many things he liked about the Kents. No matter how bratty he got, how much he snapped at them, or how rude he became, they never walked away from him. 

He’d almost cried, right then. 

But Clark saved him by asking, “So what are you going to paint?”

They’d spent the rest of the night… morning? The rest of the morning chatting about everything pointless. Damian explained how the paints worked and showed Clark his process for creating a piece, and Clark helped him decide on what to make. 

In the end, he’d painted a simple skyline of Metropolis. And just to make Clark smile, he’d added a tiny little Superman, flying above the city. 

Just a dot of blue with a smudge of red, really, but it’d helped him finish off his sleepless night with his own smile when Clark declared, “This is the best painting of me I’ve ever seen!” 

It was just another reason why he really liked the Kents. Because when Father showed up just after breakfast, Damian felt relaxed. Such a stark difference from his feelings the night before. 

Sure, he was exhausted, but he didn’t feel like his blood would shake right out of his veins or his heart would quit beating entirely with the stress and anxiety of the night before clutching away at his chest. 

When he answered the door and saw Father standing there, holding a wrapped present and smiling awkwardly, he was even able to smile back. He quickly put the present on his bed, then rejoined his father in the front room, eager to get going with their day. 

“Dinner’s at six,” Clark said, just as Damian was about to follow Father out to the car. While it had been phrased innocently enough, they all knew Father had just been given a curfew. 

That didn’t particularly matter to Damian. He knew the day with Father would not last forever. And, honestly, he didn’t want it to. He still needed… time. To process everything that had happened. 

Father, on the other hand, seemed particularly perturb at Clark, and Damian just barely caught him mumbling, “He’s my kid, Clark. I’ll keep him as long as I damn well please.”

Damian frowned, but didn’t comment as he climbed into the passenger seat of Father’s car. He wanted to have a pleasant day with his Father. Not one spent in the middle of a fight between Clark and Bruce. 

He really did not want to be forced to choose between the two of them. 

Thankfully, Father did drop it. Eventually. They spent the thirty minutes it took to get to their destination in silence, Father tightly gripping the steering wheel as he fumed. But once they pulled into the parking lot of the Natural History Museum, his shoulders relaxed and he turned to face Damian. 

“How does this sound, for at least the morning,” Father asked, scratching at his neck for a second before dropping his hand and asking, “Clark said you hadn’t been here yet.” 

“I’ve been wanting to come,” Damian said, letting a small smile onto his face, “There’s an exhibit about the t-rex right now.”

“You like dinosaurs? I didn’t know that.”

Damian shrugged and got out of the car after Father, then trailed along beside him as they went inside. “Apparently most American children learn about them at a young age. It was never part of my curriculum, but I’ve been reading up on the Mesozoic Era lately. It was a natural diversion in topic.” 

“Hm. Any particular reason for that course of study,” Father asked, just as they got in line to purchase tickets. 

“No,” he admitted, leaning back against the wall behind him, “Got lost on Wikipedia and found it interesting. Clark got me a card at the library so I could check out books on the topic.” 

Clark had actually been thrilled when Damian started showing interest in history. It’d only started a few weeks ago, thus the lack of visiting the Natural History Museum already. 

He knew had the entire Kent Family had a whole day off at the same time, they would have visited already. Clark didn’t like going out like that unless Lois could come, too. But every time they thought they had time, something came up. Usually Superman related, but sometimes Daily Planet related. 

Regardless, Clark had wanted to encourage Damian’s independent studying, and had brought him to the library one afternoon after school to get him his own library card. 

The name they used for it was fake, of course. Couldn’t have the librarian knowing the son of Bruce Wayne was living with Clark Kent in Metropolis, and being a minor he didn’t need an ID to get a library card. Just a self-proclaimed parent or guardian to apply for one for him. 

‘D. W. Kent’ was the name Clark had written down. When the librarian asked what ‘D.W.’ stood for, Clark had said, “Nothing, that’s his name,” putting on a thicker Kansas-country twang. The dopy, farm boy smile he followed up with sold it to the point the librarian obviously thought Clark was empty-headed, and Damian was left grinning, trying his best to hide it from the librarian. 

“Fake a country accent,” Clark had said, after they left the library, “City-folk are thrown by it and it’s automatic points against your assumed intelligence. You can get by with a lot.” 

It’d made Damian realize that Clark was more clever than Father gave him credit for. He’d already known the man was smart, but Clark could play up his perceived persona just as well as Father could. And that playboy wasn’t the only persona that worked for throwing people off a secret identity. 

“You could always purchase any book you wanted with your credit card,” Father said dryly, “I didn’t cut you off. Then you could keep it when you were done.”

“I don’t have any place to keep it,” he said, shrugging again as he pulled his weight off the wall to move with the line, “there’s not much room in the apartment, Father.”

“There’s plenty of room at the Manor,” Father nearly grumbled. Petulantly. Like a child. 

That was something Father did a lot, wasn’t it?

Why had Damian never noticed?

“I enjoy visiting the library,” Damian said instead of address any of that. He honestly did. It was fun. He could, and did, get lost in the stacks whenever he went. Clark usually found a quiet place to sit and work while Damian and Jon wandered around for as long as they wanted. Lois had even brought them once. It was great.

His day wasn’t, though.

The rest of the day went pretty much in the same manner, to Damian’s reluctant disappointment. 

They went out for lunch after the museum, then to the horticulture center across town for the afternoon. Father attempted small talk throughout the outing, but always managed to bring the topic back to Damian moving home. In a very indirect way.

He never once said, ‘Damian, come home,’ but instead pointed out how, in Gotham, Damian would be able to do something better or more often. Like when Damian had mentioned having to adjust to a bedtime, Father had said, “Bedtimes are pointless. It is why you don’t have one in my house.”

Damian had wanted to argue that he had, in fact, had a bedtime in Father’s house. He just never followed it. And Father was wishy-washy about enforcing it. 

But he was so exhausted. And the more he thought about it, the more his mind was comparing Clark to Father. Lois to Father. The parents they were to the parent Father was. 

And he was just so exhausted. He did not want to think about any of that.

Perhaps that’s why he hadn’t argued with Father about anything, all day. Pulling an all-nighter had really taken a toll. And really, the entire day before it, too.

It came at the end of their day, however. The real toll his exhaustion would take. 

Because Father had worn him out throughout the day, as well. Damian was fairly certain even had he received a full nights rest, he would have reacted in exactly the same way. 

They arrived back at the Kent’s apartment half past six, late for dinner, of course. But Damian doubted Clark actually cared. Not about them being late, at least. After Father parallel parked, he turned off the car and turned in his seat to face Damian fully. Damian raised an eyebrow, and just sat there, waiting for his Father to say whatever it was he wanted to say. 

He hadn’t been expecting Father to be quite so direct, though.

“Are you about ready to come back home?” 

“What?” he asked, because what did that even mean? It wasn’t up to Damian when he got to go home. At least, he didn’t think it was?

Father frowned, but rephrased the question to, “How much longer do you want to spend in Metropolis?”

And it left Damian no less confused. Because, again. “I- That’s not really my choice, Father.”

“Of course it is,” Father said, frowning harder now as he shifted some in his seat, “No one can keep you somewhere against your will, Damian.”

Damian blinked. And stared. Then he noticed his mouth had fallen open a little, so he snapped it shut. Because what made Father think this was all against Damian’s will? Damian had kryptonite in his utility belt. If he really wanted to get away from the Kents, he could. Now that he knew them, though, knew Clark better, he knew that they would never hold him against his will. If he demanded to be returned home, Clark would do it.

He might report Bruce to the authorities for abuse, but he’d return Damian home… 

But why would Damian fight to go back home? When Father never fought for him? At all? Father had made exactly one protestation about Clark taking him. One. Then he just dropped it and walked off. Hadn’t even said goodbye. It took Damian texting Father to even hear from him for the first time. 

Clark was willing to fight Father, his self-proclaimed best friend, although Damian was starting to doubt that was the case anymore, just to bring Damian to what he thought was safety. 

That’s what this was all about, after all. Deep down, Damian had always kind of known that. He knew that the first night, when Clark was flying him to Metropolis. He understood that Father had messed up, but he hadn’t quite connected it to him. And hadn’t really cared about his brother’s pain…

But he understood now. He got it. 

Besides, Father had never once shown any interesting in Damian coming home. The last time he’d seen Father, he’d asked, “Why can’t I live with you?” and what had Father said?

Absolutely nothing.

He’d looked away and ignored the question. 

Father had never fought for him. 

Why was he starting now?

“Damian, I love you,” Father said, soft and gently, as he reached a hand out to… do something. Damian wasn’t sure. Stroke his hair? His cheek? Whatever it was, he didn’t allow it to happen, because he backed up, pressing his back against the door behind him.

Father withdrew the hand like he’d been stung, but he didn’t immediately revert to anger, like Damian had been expecting. Instead, he just looked at Damian quizzically and asked, “Damian? What is it?” 

And all he could do was shake his head. Because he didn’t know. He wasn’t afraid of Father. All it would take was calling out Clark’s name, and he’d be there in an instant. 

No. He had nothing to fear from his Father. 

But that phrase just sounded so wrong coming from his father’s mouth. So alien. More alien than Damian’s best friend. And it set off alarms in Damian’s head.

Because had Father ever said that before?

Yeah, he decided. Exactly once. 

What was even happening? What was Father trying to pull, here? Why would he… Was he trying to manipulate Damian?

That’s what-That’s what abusers did. 

Manipulate those around them.

And Father was-

“Damian?” Father asked, reaching forward to touch Damian’s knee and shake it, slightly. 

Damian knew his face had likely drained of its color. What color it had, that is, with him being as sleep deprived as he was. He’d had a good look at himself in a mirror earlier. He looked like absolute shit.

“Father,” he started, then paused to clear his throat before continuing, “it was never about me. It’s always been about you.” 

Bruce gave Damian the most confused expression he’d ever seen on his father’s face, and said, “I don’t follow.” 

And before Damian could think better of it, his mouth was saying, “Do you love Tim?”

It was a valid question after all. 

“What?” Father asked, and Damian could see a touch of annoyance in his face now. Tim was likely a touchy subject for him. 

Damian didn’t care. 

“It’s just, you say you love me. But I’m pretty sure you said that to Tim, too.” He’d adopted Tim, after all. Damian hadn’t been a choice, so it only stood to reason that Father must love Tim. 

Father just turned his head slightly, like he wanted to look away, but couldn’t, so Damian added, “You’re supposed to. Tim, and Jason, and Dick. We’re your kids.” 

And he hadn’t. Father hadn’t. He’d said these things, he’d made them all feel safe and loved and protected, then turned around and betrayed each one of them. 

How could, how could he do that? How could Damian deal with it? Why would he want to?

The answer to that was, he absolutely wouldn’t. 

In fact, the only thing he wanted to do in that moment was going inside and curl up in his bed and sleep. Because he could feel the burning in his face, feel the stinging the preluded the one thing he didn’t want to do in front of his father, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Damian?” Father said hesitantly, reaching a hand out again.

But Damian shook his head, forcing him to drop it, as he said, “And—just—how can I trust you, Father? You, you don’t even seem to care, about what you did. About any of it.”

“What are you talking about?” The exasperation in Father’s voice was just enough to help Damian clutch onto a kernel of anger. 

“Tim,” Damian growled, “I’m talking about Tim.”

 “Tim and my argument has nothing to do with you,” Father said, softening his posture and his face as he did. His voice sounded like he was trying to be reassuring, too.

But he wasn’t.

He was the exact opposite of reassuring. 

In fact, it was affirming Damian’s thoughts and that just plunged him deeper down the drain. There was no returning now.

“It- it wasn’t an argument,” he cried, trying and failing to hold onto his anger and only his anger, “It was- it was abuse. It was wrong. 

And Father reacted in the same way he always did when confronted. With agitation, bordering on anger of his own. “Damian.” 

“I thought, when I left… when I told Mother I chose you, I thought I’d left that part of my life behind me,” Damian said, turning around in his seat so he was facing forward again. So he wasn’t looking directly at the man he knew he was either severely pissing off or hurting possibly irrevocably. He didn’t care. That’s what he’d done to Tim. And Jason. 

“I thought, I’d never have to worry about angering a parent again. Angering my family. Because… because I make you angry a lot. I’m really good at it. Sometimes I do it on purpose, but most the time not. And… before. I didn’t have to worry about it. You’d yell, you’d ground me. Sometimes I’d laugh, and you’d storm off and pout.”

“Damian,” Father said, this time quieter. Void of the anger he’d been expecting.

“But… apparently I should have been worried. I… can’t…”

“Damian.” 

Damian looked over, and wiped the tears away so he could see. And his father was staring at him with absolute desperation in his eyes. Like he were able to hear Damian’s thoughts. See right inside Damian’s head and see the connections Damian was making. The realizations.

The decision that he’d rather stay with the Kents. Stay where being a brat didn’t result in anything happening, but maybe Lois or Clark telling him to ‘watch the tone.’ Where he could do whatever he wanted, and was encouraged. 

Where he didn’t have to wonder, ‘is this what’s going to set him off?’ 

He’d spent the first ten years of his life with that fear. He couldn’t do it again.

“You’re— you’re Dad. If you, if you did that. To me. I don’t think I’d ever recover from it. I can’t-” do this, he tried to finish, but his words were choked off by a sob. And this was the absolute last place he wanted to cry. He’d already cried yesterday. Why did he have to do it again, today? 

“Son, If I can-” Father started, but Damian unlocked his door and pushed it open, unwilling to stay and listen. 

He couldn’t do this. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, scrubbing at his eyes as he slid out and shut the door behind him. If Father tried to follow him, he hadn’t noticed, because as soon as he entered his code into the door, he ran as fast as he could, taking the stairs up to the apartment. 

Clark had obviously been listening in, or was at least tuned into Damian, because he had the door unlocked and open as soon as Damian entered the hall outside. 

“Damian,” Clark started, but stopped when Damian shouted at him.

“Leave me alone,” he screamed, mad at himself for still crying. Jon and Lois both looked at him, startled, but he could tell Jon had probably been listening, too. Damian hated their powers. “You had no right to listen.” 

He ran into his and Jon’s room and slammed the door behind him, then just collapsed onto his bed to hopefully get all of this out. Maybe he’d just fall asleep. 

But of course, he didn’t. Because life wasn’t fair. Nothing was ever fair. Why did Father have to be like this? He was a superhero, for crying out loud. He was supposed to be better. 

Damian had looked up to him his entire life, because he was a superhero. And superheroes didn’t stoop to the levels of the criminals they were sworn to fight. They didn’t have questionable morals and use lame excuses. 

Superheroes weren’t abusers. 

That’s what villains were. 

“Damian,” Lois said, as she knocked gently on the door Damian had no idea how long after he’d come to hide, “Damian, sweetheart, can I come in?”

“Go away,” he said, burying his face into his pillow as Lois opened the door, anyway.

“Honey,” she said, so sweetly, so kindly, that it made Damian look up. And when he saw his own hurt reflected back at him, he burst out in tears again. And before he knew it, she was sitting next to him, scooping him up into a hug, even though he was almost as tall as her. 

How she managed to make him feel both so tiny and so loved and protected in the one move, he’d never know. What he did know, though, was that it made him cry even harder. 

They sat there, like that, for what felt like an eternity. Whenever Damian thought he was getting ahold of himself, he got himself worked up again about something else. About how much Lois cared. Clark, too. And he remembered how in his four years since leaving his Mother, not once had he ever felt this loved and cared for.

Except for the short time he was with Dick. 

Which just set him off harder. 

Because Dick was gone. 

But he did eventually calm completely down. Except for the weird hiccupy sniffles he had going on. 

He was absolutely, completely, emotionally drained. It had been nearly 36 hours since he last slept, and that on top of the two very exhausting days, he could barely keep his head up. If it weren’t for Lois holding him up and brushing a hand through his hair, he’s sure he would have burrowed under a blanket already and passed right out. 

“You want to tell me what happened?” Lois eventually whispered, her voice a soothing rasp coming from right above his head. 

“Nothing,” he replied, which was an obvious lie. Clearly. He’d been living with the Kents for a while now, and this was only the second time he’d cried. There was no way she was going to take ‘nothing’ for an answer. 

Damian couldn’t come up with anything else to say, though. Because nothing had happened. It was a delayed reaction. A response to stresses he’d been dealing with since the start of this entire fiasco. 

He’d once heard, ‘if someone goes from 0 to 100 over spilled milk, you should ask how long they’ve really been at 99’ and he never understood it before. 

Now he did. 

Because he’d been building this up for months. Bottling it all away, ignoring everything and everyone just to avoid it. To the point that all it had taken was a little push from Father. A tiny little comment, that Damian might have once rolled his eyes at and argued back against. 

“Do I need to go all Mama Bear on Bruce?” Lois asked, with a hint of a smile on her face. 

It made Damian smile, too. A little. “No,” he said, pausing to sniffle, “He didn’t do anything.”

“Nothing?” she asked, clearly not believing Damian. Maybe Clark had told her everything Father said. Maybe he hadn’t, and she was just speculating. Regardless. 

“No, he’s just- He’s acting like it’s my fault I’m here,” Damian sighed, curling in on himself a little more, but not pulling away from Lois’s hold. Why couldn’t his own mother had been like this? It was nice. 

“What do you mean?” 

“He’s acting like…” he said, pausing to gather his thoughts. But they were all a jumbled mess, still trying to sort themselves back out after that massive break. “Like I’m being—I’m—He isn’t even sorry for what he did.” 

How could he be blaming Damian for choosing to live away from him when he wasn’t even sorry?

“Oh, baby,” she whispered, squeezing him a little in a hug, before relaxing again.

“He hit Tim,” he whispered, looking down at his arms. Staring at his watch, that his father had given him three years before. As an inheritance gift, upon his supposed death. Before, seeing the too-big watch always reminded him that his father had remembered him. Had cared enough about him to leave him something as cherished as his father’s watch. 

And when he’d come back from time, he hadn’t asked for it back. 

Looking at it always made him feel better, even if he always wished he could have the man instead of the watch. Now it just made him wish he had the man he’d imagined he was, back when he was ‘dead.’ Instead of what he got.

“Yeah,” Lois agreed, “He did.” 

“And Jason,” Damian added, “And Dick. And he doesn’t care. He doesn’t think it’s wrong.”

“He knows it’s wrong, sweetie,” Lois assured, resuming her petting of Damian’s hair.

“No, he said-” Damian started, but Lois cut him off.

“You wouldn’t be here if he didn’t know it was wrong. He would have fought Clark harder. But he didn’t fight, did he?”

Damian shook his head, and managed to whisper out, “No.” 

“Because he knew he was having trouble controlling himself. He knew you would be better off here, for now.”

“So why is he blaming Tim?” 

“He’s hurt, darling. At least, that’s what I assume. I don’t know him as well as you do. Or as well as Clark. He’s not a bad man, not inherently. He’s just…” she sighed, then shook her head, “I don’t know. Making excuses for himself, I think.”

“Excuses won’t fix anything.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

“But hey,” Lois said, a minute later when Damian didn’t respond. She sat up, and took Damian’s face into her hands so they were looking right at each other. “We’re going to figure it out, okay?”

Damian frowned, so she pat his cheek and smiled a little, “We will. Clark and I will help your father however he lets us. We’re not trying to keep you away from him, we’re just giving you a safe place to live while he deals with whatever is going on.”

“Yeah.”

“Because we love you, darling. We really do.” 

“I,” Damian started, but his throat closed up on him as his eyes pricked. He had no tears left to give though, so he pulled his face away and rubbed at his eyes. “Thank you,” he eventually managed to get out.

Lois seemed to hear his unspoken words, anyway, because she smiled at him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Why don’t you get some sleep, all right? You’ve had a long couple days. I’ll make sure Jon is extra quiet when he goes to bed.” 

“Okay,” he said, as he let her pull the covers up and over his body. She tucked them in right under his chin and gave him another kiss on the cheek before saying, “Good night, D. 

And Damian took a deep breath. One that seemed to fully fill his lungs for, perhaps, the first time in months. 

He had cautious hope that his father would, somehow, fix whatever was going on. Lois said they’d work on it, after all. And he trusted Lois.

But if that didn’t happen. If it took too long. More than four years, Damian wasn’t going to despair. He loved living with the Kents, and he knew he could be happy right there. And that thought alone was enough to help him drift off into a quiet sleep. 

-

First six parts of this found on Ao3: /works/19310035/