#superbat ficlet

[kryptonian-bat-thing]

Superman shows up at the Hall of Justice as everyone is minding their own business. Flash, Cyborg and Green Lantern are chatting by the cafeteria while Martian Manhunter and Aquaman are watching Hawkgirl spar with Wonder Woman.

The Man of Steel stops by each member and hands them a card and a box, each one decorated accordingly to their themes and likings.

"Happy Valentine's!" his smile flashes as he speaks. Tilting his head and turning to the sides, he then lifts an eyebrow. "Where's B?"

"Didn't show up today," Flash replies, unraveling the pretty lightning themed bow that held his gifted box shut. "Try checking the monitor room."

"He is not here. Perhaps he is patrolling Gotham at this hour." J'onn adds after a quick psychic scan, smiling to see the Oreo dessert that Superman got for him in his gift box.

Kal wishes them all a happy Valentine's day once again, before exiting and soaring to the sky in Gotham's direction. The early night settled in with the melting snow as he held close the last boxes on his strong hands.

"Superman!" a familiar voice reaches him, from the top of a sky scraper. He lowers himself to float near a small figure on top of a gargoyle.

"Hello, Robin! Have you seen Batman around?"

The small boy ties his thick eyebrows in a scowl. They are so much like his father's, Superman chuckles internally at the resemblance.

"Don't worry," he opens a friendly grin to the boy "I brought something for you as well. Jon sends his regards." Handing the smaller box to the boy, a flashy card with an attempted portrait drawn attached to it. Although he pretends he can't, Kal notices the hitch on the kid's heartbeat when he grabs and takes a look at the gift.

A nod as thanking, the boy wonder jumps off and grapples, disappearing into the Gotham night. Kal follows him with his head.

As he faces the dark, a known heartbeat comes behind him, in the shadows. He plays as though he can't hear it, waiting for the sign to acknowledge the Dark Knight's presence.

"Superman." it's broody as always, but not as cold as when they first met. A subtle fondness hides under the growling bat, as the hero swirls around to face it.

"Hey, B." he steps on the gargoyle as the other comes close to it as well. "Happy Valentine's."

"I told you not to wander into my city like that." lifting an eyebrow, the bat claims with his arms crossed over his chest. His gauntlets are dirty, as if he's just out of some punching and kicking criminals. Superman's sapphire eyes meet the cowl lenses with awkwardness as he fidgets with the last box.

It is black and wrapped with a bow with yellow hearts. It's no bigger than his two hands, but it feels like holding his own heart as he sticks it out for his best friend to grasp.

As Batman does so, his face twitches almost unnoticeably for anyone who isn't as close to the man as Superman is. He opens it slowly and gives into the urge to smile, a light smirk pulled on the edge of his lips.

"You shouldn't have." the Knight jokes, lifting up the silly plushies gifted by his friend. It's a Batman and a Superman plushie, but the man soon notices that they are united by some sewn strings on their stubby hands. Something is embroidered on them: Super Friends. The Bat can't help but chuckle.

"I know it's corny, but I thought it was fitting." the kryptonian approaches even more, his grin brighter than the sun itself. Batman traces over the message with his dark gloves, feeling how fresh and homemade these are compared to the rest of the plushies' sews.

He closes the gap between their faces, two figures on the inky skyline professing their closeness to each other. He hadn't even glanced at the clearly bought cards that said "you are my hero" and "be my Valentine".

#i wrote this out of boredom #clark seems like the type that gifts his friends on valentine's too #superman #dc #batman #dc comics #superbat #justice league #superman x batman #batman x superman #mini fic #superbat ficlet #superbat fic #i might draw these later

[saw3amanda]

miss missing you (now and then)

Clark collapsed against a parapet, catching his breath. Technically speaking, Clark never had to catch his breath, but it was nice to sit after the exertion of going up against Luthor. Luckily, there had been no kryptonite involved, but Clark had called in Batman just in case and wasn’t complaining about the extra help.

“You alright?” A modulated voice rumbled next to him.

Clark looked over to see Batman leaning against the short wall a few feet away from him. The two had only been working together for a short year (after a few very tense weeks of getting to know each other), and it was nice to know that Batman cared enough to ask.

“Yeah, just tired, I guess. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” Clark replied, getting to his feet and looking out at Metropolis from his vantage point. They were standing atop a dilapidated building, half destroyed and condemned from some battle months ago. The sun was just starting to set, streaking across the sky in yellow and gold, and the air was beginning to cool. Clark could feel the last rays of sunlight stretching to meet him.

Batman made a brief, inquisitive noise, and Clark had to play back their conversation to remember what he had said. 

“Oh, just had uncomfortable dreams, I guess. Not very conducive to a good night’s rest.” He laughed gently.

“Hm.”

Clark looked over and saw Batman still staring at him, as if he was waiting for him to continue. 

This was new, the active interest in each other’s lives. For the majority of their relationship, they contacted each other out of necessity. Clark’s comm would only ping in emergencies, when Batman had too much to handle (not that he would admit that), or he had new information for a case. But in months, they had started lingering when the battle was over. One of them would escort the other back to their respective city, carrying on a conversation in soft tones, or they would take a moment to recuperate with the other close by. Clark was never one to allow silence to reign for long, and he drew Batman into conversation again and again. When the recap of the mission had dwindled, Clark would start talking about anecdotes from his day, or point out areas he’d explored in his city. Batman eventually graduated from mumbled sounds of agreement to full sentences. 

It still managed to surprise him when Batman seemed interested in what he had to say instead of tolerating it, but he was beginning to appreciate their fledgling friendship. A bit too much, if he was honest. These inconvenient feelings kept cropping up, but Clark had gotten well versed in choking them down. So, if Batman wanted to continue talking, Clark certainly wouldn’t stop it. 

“Do you ever dream about someone you shouldn’t?” Clark asked, staring off at the city skyline. 

He could hear Batman walk closer and stand beside him, facing out just as Clark was.

“No.”

“Yeah, I guess not. I can’t even imagine you dreaming. You just stoically fall asleep, wake up two hours later, and you’re set, right?”

A muffled noise of amusement came from his right, and Clark had to stifle a grin.

“Exactly.”

“Well, for the rest of us,” Clark’s smile faded. “Dreaming can be more trouble than it’s worth.”

Clark allowed a warm quiet to blanket the moment, and reveled in it. 

“Who was it?” Batman asked. Clark almost jumped at his gravelly voice breaking the silence. 

Clark debated his next words. He could be honest, like he desperately wanted to be. He could feel the words swimming around his lungs, jumping through his veins as they had all day. But how much would be too much? What could he give away about himself and still feel confident in his secret identity? 

He could trust Batman; he knew this. They were in the exact same position, and he knew that if he asked, Batman wouldn’t dig too much into it. Besides, honesty was the foundation of any good friendship and he did want to talk about this.

“You’re gonna laugh,” Clark chuckled weakly, nerves roiling in his stomach, just like they did whenever he talked about him. “But, Bruce Wayne.”

A weird, hacking sound started, and Clark looked around to see where it was coming from. He turned to Batman to see the man furiously coughing into his elbow. He would laugh at how strangled the cough had sounded through the modulator, but he was more worried than anything at the moment. 

“Are you ok?” He said hurriedly.

“Fine.” Batman said as he straightened up and looked back over to Clark. He cleared his throat one last time. “Bruce Wayne?”

Clark felt his blood rise to his cheeks in a light flush and scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah, we actually一” Clark paused and made a quick decision. “I'm going to tell you something because I trust you not to look into it. I know you well enough that you wouldn't compromise my identity.”

He looked over, and Batman nodded, a slight smile on his lips. Clark threw a nervous grin back, and took a deep breath.

“Back in high school, Bruce and I…dated.” Clark said. He wanted to turn to Batman to see his reaction, but stared resolutely at the fading sun. “He had moved to my town to get out of the city, and we just clicked .”

Batman hummed a short, contemplative noise and Clark continued.

“We were together for a good while actually. Of course we weren't out to anyone but a select few, but we still made it work.” Clark said with a wry turn of his lips.

“What happened?” Batman asked, his voice as soft as the modulator would allow.

Clark let out a sigh. He had told this story so many times that he almost had a script for it. But this wasn’t just anyone asking about his first love. He didn’t have to run his normal lines. 

“He left. Isn’t that always how it always goes?”

Clark finally glanced over at Batman, who was looking down at his folded hands on the parapet ledge. The gloved fingers interlapped evenly, creating a neat pattern of shadows in the fading light. Batman finally turned to face him, and Clark couldn’t quite identify what the strange set of his mouth meant.

“So,” Batman cleared his throat. “The dream.”

Clark laughed a little, surprised.

“You are uncharacteristically interested in this, B.” He said, shaking his head.

Batman stayed silent, the whisper of gloved hands unfolding the only sound to be heard. He braced his hands on the ledge instead and Clark admired his flexed arms for a moment, then shook his head slightly. 

“It was nothing really that upsetting. He popped up as people do in dreams, and we just talked. We made fun of each other like we used to.” Clark sighed. “We actually apologized to each other too, I think.”

Clark let the melancholy of his hopeless dream wash over him for a moment. It hurt when he woke up not because it didn't happen, but because it would never have the chance to.

“You apologized?” Batman asked.

“Yeah, well, I've said and done some things after the break up that I'm not proud of. We met up twice afterwards, a year or two later and I just…fucked it up.” Clark replied. Shame flooded through him as he remembered every misstep he took after Bruce left. “I think I ruined any chance we had of building a friendship. Last time we talked, he essentially told me that we shouldn't anymore.”

Clark looked up and saw Batman turned to him. It was nice to say this aloud, he realized. 

“But it's ok, really. I don't blame him and it's probably better if we don't talk,” Clark continued. He felt like each word that slipped into the air between them carried a weight that had been released from his chest. He was lighter, despite the difficult topic. “It's just a shame, because I have so much I want to say to him. But I've made peace with the fact that I won't be able to.”

The last golden fingers of sunlight had faded into the horizon, and the two were trapped in the moment between night and day. It washed the city in purple, and Clark watched as street lamps flickered on.

Clark looked over to Batman and studied the way the shadows fell across his face. 

“I really appreciate you listening. I didn't realize一” 

“What would you say to him?” Batman interrupted. The words seemed to rush out of him, like they couldn't get out fast enough. “If you could see him, what would you say?”

Clark hummed thoughtfully. He didn't understand Batman's urgency, but the moment felt important somehow. He knew he needed to word what he said next correctly, because he wouldn't be able to take them back.

“I would tell him that I still think of him when I listen to Fall Out Boy, which is a shame because they're all I've been listening to for the past week,” Clark started. “He used to love them. I actually learned the words to Sugar, We're Going Down to impress him. 

“I would ask if we could just forget these past few years. If we could just pretend we haven't talked since we broke up.  I have made so many mistakes, and I've fucked up so, so many times. And I'm sorry.”

Clark took a breath before continuing, chest stretching the fabric of his uniform tight as he inhaled.

“I would tell him that I've dated four people in my life, and he was the only one I ever loved. I have been chasing that feeling for years, and he did it without even trying. And sometimes, I even miss the heartbreak. I miss feeling that strongly about someone. We fit together in a way that I've never experienced before or since, and goddamn if that doesn't make me angry. Goddamn if I didn't wish I loved someone like I loved him.

“And I wouldn't say this because I still wanted him. I wouldn't say this because I missed him. I'm not even sure if I do, to be honest. I certainly miss what we had, and even the people we used to be. But maybe the person I miss isn't so different from the person he is now. The point, if I ever said this, is that I still think about him sometimes. It's that he still pops up in my dreams every so often, and that he used to make me incandescently happy.”

Clark laughed, a short bitter thing. He looked down at his hands gripping the concrete of the parapet, cracks beginning to spread through the stone. Batman stayed silent.

“I wish I didn't fuck up for years just because I missed him, and I wish I didn't ruin the friendship we could've had.” Clark said softly. He finally turned to Batman. “But wishing never did anything.”

Batman stared at Clark, and for once, Clark wished desperately to see his face. To see his reaction, because reading his emotions through the turn of his lips wasn't enough. 

Clark suddenly felt exposed under the rising moon. He had said too much; he had been too honest. Batman and him had just started to be friends, and here Clark goes, whining about a love long ago.

He coughed, trying to ease the embarrassment in his chest.

“Anyway, it doesn't matter much now.” He said into the stillness of the air.

“It does.”

Clark threw on a weak grin.

“That’s nice of you, B, but it’s ok. I’m alright with this.” He took a few steps back from the short wall, looking one last time at the glowing city lights. “It’s getting late. Thanks for your help today. And for listening.”

Clark scrubbed a hand down his face. He was exhausted. That had to be the reason he rambled incessantly to Batman. He began to rise slowly, feet only a few inches off the ground, when a gloved hand reached out and grabbed his forearm.

“B?”

“Clark, wait.” Batman said, looking directly into his eyes. Clark dropped instantly to the ground, boots scratching slightly against the concrete. 

“What did you say?” Clark asked with wide eyes. He could feel his hands start to shake.

Batman stepped closer with determination written on his lips.

“Clark, I’m sorry.”

He started to back away from Batman, each step unsteady. How did he know? How long has he known?

“How did you..” He said, voice shaking slightly. “How do you know my name?”

Batman didn’t answer. He started reaching behind his head with both hands and Clark barely registered the snick of a latch opening before he saw the cowl fall away.

“Clark,” Bruce Wayne said, standing in full Batman regalia. “I’m sorry.” 

#superbat #superbat fic #superbat ficlet #superman #batman #clark kent #bruce wayne #dc fic #rennwrites

[howtokillavampire]

you know when you start writing a fanfic and you have a general idea of the length it's going to be, and then you start actually writing it and realize you have severely underestimated yourself and have once again bitten off more than you can chew

#it was supposed to be a 500 word ficlet and now im over 2k and only about halfway through it #i have severely underestimated myself once again #its a coldflash time travel au #what can i say #Im a suckwr for a good hero x villain trope #coldflash #ao3 #archive of our own #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #drarry #superbat #hannigram #mattimir

[bbbbbbbbatman]

Bruce rolled over in bed.

Then he rolled back to his other side.

Then he rolled onto his back.

He opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling in his dark room. His blankets were twisted around him from all the moving around.

He couldn't sleep.

He squinted at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It read 3:42 in red letters. He had been trying to sleep for nearly two hours. He glanced over to his other side, to the empty bed beside him and sighed.

Bruce was no stranger to insomnia, but his sleeping patterns had drastically improved in the past few years--especially the last few months. He had patrolled earlier, so he should be tired, nice and worn out, but sleep eluded him. He pondered on the possible reasons why he might not be sleeping.

A flash of Clark's sleeping face next to his passed through mind and he immediately sat up and waved it off. Perhaps a snack would help.

He wandered down to the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge, squinting at the bright light.

"Couldn't sleep either?"

Only years of intense training prevented him from jerking at the sound, and he would deny being startled to his dying breath.

He looked over at Tim, standing in the entrance of the kitchen, holding a coffee mug, illuminated by the light from the fridge. His small smirk said he knew he had caught Bruce off guard.

Bruce straightened up. "No. I haven't been able to fall asleep yet."

"Cute."

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?"

Tim just huffed a laugh and walked further into the kitchen to rummage in the cupboards. "You. You're cute. You've gotten so used to sleeping with Clark since he moved in and now that he's off world on a mission you can't sleep," he said, turning back to send Bruce a teasing smile.

Bruce immediately bristled at the accusation. "Clark has nothing to do with me not being able to sleep," he defended, crossing his arms over his chest.

How stupid, to think that he, who had slept alone his entire life, couldn't fall asleep because his boyfriend was away like a child who had lost his favorite teddy bear. Preposterous.

"Sure, B," Time said sarcastically. He pulled down the snacks he had been looking for.

"I'm serious, Tim. Sometimes, I just have trouble sleeping, it's not any deeper than that."

Tim patted Bruce on the shoulder on his way out the kitchen. "Whatever you say." Then he disappeared down the dark hallway.

Grumbling to himself, Bruce shut the fridge and went back to his room, no longer in the mood for food. He climbed into his bed which had gotten cold from the few minutes he was away.

Ridiculous. That Clark has anything to do with his insomnia.

But, Bruce thought, turning on side facing where Clark normally slept, it'll be nice when Clark gets back.

#superbat #batman #bruce wayne #superman #clark kent #dc #dc comics #ficlet #mine

[superbatdisasterblog]

I’m having thoughts about touch starved Bruce…👀

———

Bruce is used to people touching him a lot— ever since he was a kid. People grab him by the shoulder and move him around…shuffling him like a chess piece. Strangers angling for money, or favors, or social standing all clutch at his elbow, or throw an arm around his shoulder, or hang on him with all their weight.

But all those touches are guiding, manipulating, wanting. He exists for the use of others— for what he can provide. It’s a lesson he learned as soon as his parents died.

Which is why Clark is such a surprise. Clark doesn’t touch him like everyone else does.

As soon as he is granted permission to touch Bruce, he doesn’t stop. Every opportunity he gets, he takes it. He leans into Bruce’s side on the couch, and presses his lips feather soft along the curve of Bruce’s neck while they’re cooking dinner. He glides a hand down Bruce’s spine in the shower, and curls around him in Bruce’s ridiculously expensive silk sheets. Their fingers brush at League meetings, and Clark will smooth a palm along Bruce’s thigh after catching him mid air during a battle with whatever big bad decided to challenge them that week.

Every place Clark touches hums with energy and makes Bruce’s stomach flutter. Instead of feeling drained and jumpy the way he normally does, he starts to feel calm and grounded.

It takes an embarrassing amount of time for the world’s greatest detective to understand why Clark’s touch is different.

It’s different because Clark’s touch is giving instead of taking, and Bruce doesn’t know what to do with that.

#superbat #clark/bruce #bruce wayne/clark kent #ficlet #Drabble #mini fic #stuff I made #touch starved #angst #hurt/comfort #hint at lemon

[nightmareinfloral]

okay but baby jon crying and Bruce takes him in his arms and he calms down and grabs Bruce's finger and Bruce is overwhelmed by emotions.

Clark: you okay, Bruce? Is Jon hurting you-

Bruce, sobbing his eyes out: no

bruce enjoys having clark and baby jon over for dinner on fridays. not for work. just to catch up. the house seems so empty sometimes with dick in bludhaven and jason… gone. the company is welcome.

jon can’t seem to settle.

“can you hold jon for a second bruce? i’ll warm up a bottle to calm him down” clark says and deposits jon in bruce’s arms before he can respond.

jon is so tiny in bruce’s arms, he barely weighs a thing. tear-stained eyes blink up at bruce inquisitively.

“hey champ” bruce coos, “what’s the matter, huh? what’s with all the fuss?”. he boops jon’s nose and the baby giggles. jon reaches out and grabs bruce’s finger. his hand is so small he can barely hold it.

something hitches in bruce’s chest and before he can stop them the tears are flowing. maybe it’s him missing his boys. or perhaps it’s seeing baby jon reach out for his hands, when they’ve caused so much pain and been in so many fights.

maybe he’s just tired.

either way bruce is full on sobbing when a very confused clark re-enters the room with jon’s bottle.

#i’m obsessed with your mind #once again grateful for the mutuals #not my best writing but it’s still cute #bruce wayne #batman #clark kent #superman #jon kent #superboy #superbat #kinda #dick grayson #nightwing #ficlet #dc #dc comics #nightmare writes

[plaudiusplants]

You ever think about a superbat telling of Orpheus and Eurydice? Capes or no capes, Clark Kent is lost to the world, or in magical peril, or maybe just lost, and Bruce Wayne cannot abide this. He cannot allow this world to exist without Clark Kent. Robin may be the light that casts Batman's shadow, but Clark is the optimism of the entire world. His parents raised him so well that he has the powers of a god and he still chooses to be kind enough to have a tea party with a little kid. And so Bruce goes to the appropriate authorities and pleads his case. He offers money, resources, in quantities unmatchable. They decline. He offers himself, one hostage for another. They decline. He offers himself again, his identity as Batman, his company, his city. They decline. All they want, they say, is to see him trust fully. Trust that Clark will follow him to safety. Trust that there are no tricks here; that no replacement who will come to take Clark's place; that Clark will follow. He may not turn, he may not glance, he may not follow his thousand instincts telling him to check that Clark really is following or he forfeits Clark forever, not only lost to him but to the whole world. And what else can he do but agree? He begins to walk

#orpheus and eurydice #superbat #clark kent/bruce wayne #superman #batman #my writing #ficlet

[audhd-nightwing]

wait fuck steddie as superbat works so well

i mentioned this a while back but i started thinking about it again so

first we have stevie harrington, billionaire playboy douche bag by day and batman- the allusive protector of gotham with a penchant for adopting kids- by night

then we have eddie kent, small town farm boy turned big city reporter who also happens to be the alien superhero of metropolis, superman

nancy is lois lane, joyce is alfred, wayne is pa kent, robin is diana prince (wonder woman), jonathan is jimmy olsen, hopper is jim gordon, chrissy is kara zor-el (supergirl)

the party are the batkids, doesn’t really matter who’s who (but dustin is definitely tim, max is definitely steph, and el is definitely cass)

backstory:

thomas and martha harrington are killed, leaving behind a son- steven harrington. from there the boy is raised by his maid, joyce pennyworth. over time he perfects a false persona (stevie) to hide behind, and trains to avenge his parents and his city.

eddie lands in wayne kent’s farm and is brought up in a humble life. he helps around the farm and around town, learning some basic handyman/mechanic skills. smallsville is a town where everyone knows everyone, it’s a very tight-knit community, and everyone loves wayne and eddie (eddie specifically as the charming, helpful, more honest part of himself).

when eddie moves to metropolis things are very different. because he’s a small town farm boy, his coworkers at the daily planet are condescending and oftentimes rude. that is, of course, except for jonathan byers and nancy wheeler, his closest friends. the more eddie learns about the state of metropolis and the surplus of supervillains, the more he is convinced he has to do something to help. cue superman emerging.

superman agrees to an interview with nancy, because she’s the only reporter he trusts, but it ends up backfiring because nancy almost immediately realizes it’s eddie. she swears to secrecy, but only if he lets her help, and eddie can’t really say no to her (she’s scary). she is the one who comes up with the ‘clumsy dork eddie kent’ persona, and she covers for him when he has to leave work.

we all know the media is very distrustful of superman at first, especially when they learn he is an alien, and it takes a lot of effort on nancy’s part to convince them otherwise.

anyway, flash forward a few years and eddie is assigned to interview steven harrington while attending one of his galas. eddie has heard a lot of (mostly bad) things about “stevie” harrington, so he’s not the happiest about it. only, when eddie spots him across the crowd, the man is already staring at him, assessing with a cold gaze. when their eyes meet, the brunet blinks before tilting his head a fraction, towards a hallway leading deeper into the manor. without seeing eddie’s response, he walks off in that direction.

eddie, the diligent reporter he is, immediately follows. he slips away from the crowd and into the hall, shutting the door behind him and looking around. steven harrington is leaning against the wall opposite him, eyeing him curiously. eddie almost feels pinned to spot under the other man’s gaze.

“you’re new,” he says, and it’s not really a question. eddie answers anyway.

“yes. i’m, uh, here for the daily planet actually,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. eddie thinks this is probably the richest person he’s ever spoken to, and tries not to show it. something must give him away though, because harrington flashes a playful smirk and steps forward, into eddie’s space.

“oh, really?” he asks, saccharine-sweet, his voice dripping with honey as he readjusts eddie’s askew tie, his hands lingering on eddie’s chest. eddie swallows and wonders how he got here, breath catching as harrington cups his face with a hand and traces a thumb over his bottom lip. and then it doesn’t really matter because harrington is pushing him against the wall with a surprising amount of strength (don’t think about it don’t think about it) and kissing eddie like he’s desperate.

eddie can’t help but get caught in the other man’s intensity, pulling harringtons hips forward and relishing the quiet little noise he makes. eddie nearly whimpers when harrington bites down hard on his lip, which only drives the other man to loosen eddie’s tie and unbutton the top of his shirt, smirking when eddie jumps at the feeling of lips and teeth and tongue against his neck. harrington lets out a happy hum when eddie groans and tilts his head back to give the other man better access. eddie’s grip on harringtons hips loosen and, while it seems like he misses the touch, he definitely appreciates eddie grabbing his ass if the sound he makes is anything to go by.

seemingly taking that gesture as a challenge, harrington, to eddie’s confusion, grips the underside of his thighs. and then. and he then lifts eddie up against the wall. eddie thinks- no, he knows- that it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen and/or experienced (which isn’t much, but seriously, what the fuck!). eddie knows he lets out an embarrassing noise solely because of the proud look on harrington’s face. but then he’s kissing eddie again, bruising and needy, and eddie thinks he forgives him.

of course, that’s when the hallway door slams open to reveal three teenagers.

“shit,” harrington mumbles under his breath, though eddie thinks he’d be able to hear it even without his super-hearing. steve lets eddie down, righting him before he trips over himself, and sighs defeatedly before pressing a card into eddie’s hand and a kiss to his cheek.

“sorry, sweetheart. call me sometime, will you?” he whispers before turning around like he’s heading to the gallows, facing the teenagers.

“really, steve?” a curly-haired boy asks, looking eddie up and down with a raised eyebrow. he tries not to feel insulted. (it doesn’t work).

a redhead punches the boy in the arm and looks at eddie, then steve, then eddie again and lets out a low whistle.

“jeez steve, it looks like he was attacked by a rabid bat,” she snickers, and eddie flushes bright red. steve lets out a sarcastic huff at the comment before grabbing the two teens by their scruffs and ushering them back through the doorway, telling the other girl to show him the way out and winking at eddie before disappearing.

the girl, whose hair seems to just be growing out from a buzzcut, gives him a small genuine smile and tugs his sleeve to get eddie to follow her. they wind their way through the shadowed empty halls until they somehow arrive at the front door. the girl opens it but tugs at his sleeve again before he steps out. he looks at her and she seems to find the right words in her head before saying, “you are good for him. call,” and giving him maybe-but-probably-not-accidental puppy dog eyes. eddie can’t help but smile and huff a laugh.

“don’t worry, he won’t get rid of me that easy.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #all the brain rot #superbat #steddie au #superbat au #steddie as superbat #dc comics au #steve harrington as batman #eddie munson as superman #steddie mini fic #steddie ficlet #dc au #batman au #combining my two fixations #stranger things au #batman #superman #steve has a thing for dorks #strong steve harrington #brucie wayne #stevie harrington #el hopper #max mayfield #dustin henderson #nancy wheeler #flirty steve harrington

[violent138]

I'm not allowed to write, but I'm also not able to focus on my essay, so...

"You ever think about how crazy Spooky is?" Hal asked, spinning in the chair. 

Clark smiled. Often. More than five times a day. "Occupational hazard of dating him. What did you need my help with?"

"This is where it hurts, doc." Hal gestured to a part on his cluttered desk. Clark narrowed his eyes, using his heat vision to solder it back together.

"I just mean, if you got powers. There's really only two things to do-"

Clark watched the heat seal the components together, then aimed at the next parts Hal put together. 

"-be a hero, or a villain, but if you're just some human-"

Clark gave him a look, and Hal defensively put up his hands.

"I'm human too, I can say that!" Hal scoffed, pushing his goggles back on as he gave the tech an appraising look. "Isn't it insane, to spend every day killing yourself to fight something other people can, and then do it better?" Hal whistled, flipping the goggles back up and grinning at Clark. "Man, you're useful. Thanks." 

Clark hummed in reply, listening to Bruce's elevated heartbeat. Something about training with Diana. "That is insane."

"Huh?"

"That you have a ring that can make anything, and you just had me fly back from an asteroid belt away to-"

"Aw, come on Blue, aren't you the patron saint of kittens in trees or something?"

Clark crossed his arms. "While I'm here, do you need anything else?"

"Now that you mention it..." Hal smirked and Clark sighed heavily, listening to the tachycardic, spiking heartbeat that always occupied some part of his brain.

#ficlet #drabble #idk single scene #don't know what this is #superbat #jl #justice league #batman #superman #green lantern #ao3 author #violet138

[katherineholmes]

“We should get married,” Bruce suggests nonchalantly and Clark fumbles with the salad spoon. And the salad which doesn’t look like it will be filling at all.

He looks up at Bruce, wondering if his eyes are giving away how confused he is.

“Since when did you start joking?” He asks, trying to control his voice. Attempting to hide the crush love he felt he had on both Bruce and Batman.

“I’m not joking,” the dark eyes that stare at him are as serious as they would be from behind a cowl, his jaw set and serious.

“Why would we do that?” Clark doesn’t expect much, not a grand gesture or a romantic speech. Nothing even remotely like a proposal.

They’re not even dating.

“In case we get caught. So we can’t be made to testify against each other.” Bruce continues eating his stake after that as if he hasn’t just proposed.

“It’s crazy.”

Bruce looks at him for a long moment, holds his gaze and seems to stare into Clark’s soul despite the fact that Clark is the one who can literally see through people.

It takes all his years as superman to keep him from squirming in his seat.

“When have I ever suggested anything that would be bad for you?” Bruce asks quietly, his eyes intense, and something odd underlying his voice.

He’s speechless now, Bruce is right after all, and Clark trusts him. But this-

It’s all a bit too much.

#superbat #clark kent #bruce wayne #clark x bruce #dceu #dc comics #i wrote a thing #manipulation #ficlet #not a new fic

[ivebeenghosting]

Bruce about to go in labor, scared and alone in the tempest trying to reach his babies before- before- and then a huge cloud of panicked fish and before he knows it he's bound and dragged to the surface and lifted on a human's great plank. His baby is coming and he's terrified because the human will hurt him and he's a prisoner of the net, all tangled up and digging into his flesh and his belly starts contracting and it's so painful... He tries to defend himself as well as he can but he's going into labor. The human splashes water on him and babbles and is flailing around him. Then he can only focus on the pain and on pushing and after a long time his baby is out but he can't get out of his protective poach, he's going to die- and the human takes a great knife that frightens Bruce but he's too exhausted and helpless. The human tears the pouch open, his baby slipping out and trying to cling to him. He's so exhausted. The human takes his baby in his great big hands and puts him on him, and his baby immediately clings to him, trying to suckle him. The human gives Bruce a fish, and Bruce is very hungry so he accepts it. He's too exhausted to fight when the human picks him up in his arms, his baby clinging to his chest, but the human doesn't hurt him and puts him back into the water and throws fish to him. Bruce thinks a great deal of the human afterwards, of how it felt to be carried by him.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#superbat #mermaid!bruce #posting with out addition bc this is so good fr u should post this as a ficlet on ao3 #like fr this is so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[kryptonian-bat-thing]

The sun was just rising in Metropolis' horizon, the beginning of a new day after a tough night of patrol, but Batman was apprehensive still. It had only been a week since... that happened.

What was wrong with him? How could he betray his best friend like that? He knew that the answer to said questions was simpler than he'd ever admit out loud — or even to himself.

The truth was that Bruce had a certain fondness of Superman. Of course he did, the guy was practically a demigod, but that wasn't all there was to him.

The little tweaks, the smallest details, everything came as an overwhelming wave of respect for the man that he couldn't keep buried no matter how much he tried to.

Much to his demise worked that fact, since he'd rather not go through such an experience again.

A week ago, when they had just finished defeating a team up between Joker and Luthor and dropped both at Arkham, they found themselves at the Batcave, as they'd do after an exhausting fight. To catch up, aid each other, finish mission reports, etc. But this time, Bruce wasn't having it.

Earlier, in the fight, Superman launched himself straight into a kryptonite cannon, almost having it explode in his face. If Batman hadn't rushed him out of the scene in time, the Man of Steel would be long gone. He couldn't bear to even think about such absurdity.

Resting under the yellow sun lamp, he looked pure and innocent, like Clark Kent. But also wise and powerful like Kal-el, Son of Krypton. Bruce loved that about him, how he could conjure up the best of both worlds, become the strong hero Metropolis needed while keeping his true self immaculate by the darkness that came along the life of a vigilante.

Batman, cowl off, marched up to the sapphire eyed man with a clear scowl on his face, already scolding him for going off the plan. That he had been an idiot, prepared to let his life be ended if it meant a greater good. Bruce knew that it didn't make Clark stupid, but he had to let that concern out, even if only as anger.

Why couldn't he understand it, that Bruce simply couldn't lose him? That Clark is way too important to be wasting his life on the field like a pawn on a chess board? That, without him, the world would be lost? His world would be lost. He finished his snarky comments ready to move onto the report, when Clark made a sound.

Oddly enough, there was a mocking scoff coming out of the other's mouth.

"So you're allowed to risk your life everyday, but I can't, just because I have powers?" a smug smile. He knew the man was kidding, but the joke felt somehow offensive to him.

"Yes. I'm more replaceable than you; if I went missing or dead, Dick would wear the cowl and keep--"

"But he wouldn't be you." His tone shifted, still soft, but to a seriousness. It was like patting thick wool: solid yet comforting. Eyes glistening with the yellow light; cuts and bruises on his skin fading away like clouds in the wind. "And I wouldn't be me.

A Superman without a Batman just isn't the same, B. I'd probably lose my mind if it weren't for you holding my head in place. Sometimes I get scared thinking of it but... I just wanna spend, all the time that I can making sure that I'll be there when you need me..."

And he could tell, Bruce could tell Clark wasn't sure what that meant himself. If these feelings ran any deeper than their friendship, or made it stronger, or somehow both. He knew the younger man was still speaking, but he crouched and let himself come closer as words flew in and out of his ears. Soon Clark was quiet, staring at the icy ebony eyes that pierced through his own with furrowed brows, but a warm smile, revealing his internal conflict.

The older hero took it as a sign and went in. That was the worst mistake of his life.

Clark stood completely still their lips touched, tensed up at the shoulders, the stubble from Bruce's face rubbed his chin once, then twice, then gave up as the Knight retreated slowly. Then abruptly turned his back on the other, counting his heartbeat down; cape swirling like the wish he had to hide from under that sweet glare.

"Bruce, I..."

"Forget this ever happened. It was just a... moment of weakness. I'll finish the report later."

He didn't look back as he climbed up the stairs up to the Manor; he had a feeling that Clark knew he expected the Cave to be empty when he returned.

As he watches the rays kiss the golden buildings, a blue streak comes alongside a gentle breeze. Clark has been trying to talk about that day ever since — probably to let his friend down slowly, Bruce thinks to himself with pain in his chest — however it wasn't easy to get the Dark Knight to openly discuss his feelings.

This time, he had nowhere to run. No excuse. He wasn't in his city now; he couldn't run to the gargoyle's shadows and disappear. Bruce just couldn't bear to feel this pain any longer, it messed with his brain, it became an obstacle that had to be overcome. He couldn't stand in Superman's way any longer.

As the floating figure made his way closer, slowly, both tried to look confident. It's a force of habit, of course, until Clark broke it by pulling his lips in a brief loop sided smile, greeting his companion. It was ridiculous how Bruce had always wanted to kiss it and, when he did, it was the end of their friendship as he knew.

He sighed internally and braced himself against inevitable rejection.

But it never came.

"Do you regret it?"

"What?" he tilted his head upwards.

"Do you regret it." Clark repeated in another mumble, although he knew the Bat had heard it perfectly.

"No." Bruce let his chin fall again to his chest, gaulets holding onto each knee. Clark sighed.

"I wasn't exactly raised somewhere where people knew what sexualities were, B." he whispered, insecurity all over his usual bright voice.

"I've met your parents. They seem very accepting, in every way." that was their way of saying they adopted an alien they found in their yard, why would they mind if he liked to kiss men or women?

"And they are. That doesn't mean they knew it even existed." a small humoured smile faded in and out. "Folks at school were not that kind. They would bully and make fun of anyone slightly different, even if they had no idea what it meant. I only understood more about it when I was already old enough to drink."

Bruce frowned at the comparison, but kept on listening. The red boots touched the building he was perched on.

"Of course I'll treat anyone who feels that way with the same respect, I'm not a jerk. When it comes to me, though... I still don't know where I'm at in all that stuff."

"I see." Bruce stood up after a silent moment, white lenses showing no emotion. He willed his heartbeat down several times, but it was getting out of hand once again.

"I've been with guys before, I'm sure you've heard."

"Not from trustworthy sources." the disguised reporter grinned with an arched eyebrow. Bruce allowed a single giggle, which sounded more like a scoff to his own ears.

"I've slept with them, yeah." he sucked a breath through his teeth, then pursed his lips. "But I've never really dated any of them."

His heartbeat was out of control now and Clark could hear it, for sure. The way the shining eyes of his best friend reflect the light was breathtaking.

His whole figure was. Being bathed by the earliest sun rays, a golden statue of a god stood before him. The humblest god, he thinks to himself, and somehow said god had chosen to get with him out of anyone else.

"I don't deserve you." He whispers with furrowed eyebrows. He wasn't sure if Clark could see them, but he didn't have to. They can understand each other simply by their tone of voice, another thing he loved about their friendship.

"What? Don't say th--"

"It's true and you know it, Kal. It doesn't matter how much I want to pretend you're just the sweet guy I know, you're also Superman and you have a duty as such. I cannot stand in the way." the Knight's voice was steady and low, but pained. Why couldn't he be selfish for once?

Clark looked hurt, confused overall. Bruce's mumbling was back.

"You're just... Great. To me. And I'm not sure if I can also be great to you. I am... Scared."

His hands are then held by stronger ones. Even through the heavy leather gloves, he could feel the warmth of the whole Sun that is his Clark.

"B, look at me."

He does, and is not surprised to be met with the most compassionate look he knows. It was strong enough to move mountains and destroy planets, but it chose to aid weak souls and lift broken spirits.

Bruce held back an empty smile as Clark blinked, processing thoughts and words in only a way he could do.

That was why he loved the man. He'd been afraid to admit, but Clark was like a beacon of hope to him more than the actual symbol of Superman.

The way his eyelashes flutter when he's nervous, how considerate he is over anyone, how he gazes at the sky when he feels thoughtful or conflicted, as though he was searching for guidance among the stars.

Bruce had once been afraid he'd ever choose to leave Earth, but was glad that he had made it his home. A bit of a selfish desire, he was aware, but he was also aware that he was — unlike his beloved — only human. It is human to wish to be the only one who gets to see Clark's real smile, as he wakes up, before he drifts into a slumber, when he takes a bite of food that he enjoys.

"You think I'm so strong, but you can't see yourself." the voice was now low, chewing on his lower lip as Clark conjured up his next words. "You're amazing, Bruce. I respect you above everything and there's no way I wouldn't want to be with you."

The Dark Knight dared to approach, but held his face inches apart, hesitant. Then, it was Clark who moved forward.

Just as his lips were about to be sealed, the younger man tilted his head and frowned, his eyes focused somewhere else. Bruce was already beginning to think he'd messed up somehow, until his comm also started beeping, prompting him backwards, away from the smooth hands and into his ear.

A quick nod from both sides, and they dissolved; into a dark shadow between romanic buildings, and a confident figure amongst the clouds.

He felt butterflies in his stomach from watching such a noble man, the man he was madly in love with.

#batman #dc #superbat #superman #superbat ficlet #superbat fic #ficlet #short ficlet

[saw3amanda]

There was no change in how Clark felt about Bruce at nineteen than he did when he was eight, except he has a name for it now. (The realization came as a warm molasses trickle throughout Clark when he was sixteen. There was no eureka! moment. Only a defining phrase, like Clark had finally figured out the name of a color he had seen all his life.)

After a disappointing trip to visit Bruce in college, Clark returns home, dejected. Bruce wants to rectify that.

read a snippet below!

Before the door creaked shut, Clark was already reaching for the center console. The green box sat patient, expectant, as he reached for it. Clark flipped the lid open and shut (open and shut) and he cast his eyes past grey cloth seats, a dead radio, and gum-wrappered cup holders until they fell upon a green plastic lighter.

Flipping the lid of the box one last time, Clark drew out a cigarette.

(Clark Kent had started smoking a year prior. It had begun at a dorm party, the LED-lit, crowded kind. He had been decently drunk, enough so that the beat of the music, which had once been a steady heartbeat, became suffocating. Clark had stumbled out of the room and through the outside door to soothe the heat-slick from his skin. Once in the crisp air, he noticed an acrid smell and turned to follow it. A girl with heavy eyeliner and red hair stood ten paces away from the door, her edges outlined by the yellow glow of a street lamp. She held a cigarette loosely between her fingers and took a drag.

Clark watched blue tendrils escape the glowing end, saw the line of the girl’s shoulders fall as she exhaled. He looked down to his trembling hands and rapidly rising chest, and made a split second decision.

“Mind if I bum one?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound too naive. The girl gave a huff of a laugh. “First time, isn’t it?” She said, already reaching into her pocket and retrieving a sage and white box. “No one actually says that outside of movies.” She beckoned him closer, hand already outstretched with a cigarette. The orange glow softened her edges, shadows stretching, arm reaching as if to Adam. And Clark reached right back.)

Clark had rules about smoking, rules that he recited to himself as he lifted the papers to his mouth.

No more than five a week, he thought and grabbed his lighter from his dashboard.

No more than two a day, as he flicked and sparked the end of his cigarette.

Always keep hand sanitizer and gum near and he inhaled deeply.

He held the smoke deep in his chest and leaned back in his seat. Closing his eyes, he exhaled and tried to not shake too violently.

Two more inhale, exhale and then one more, and Clark let the cig hang from his mouth as he opened the car door again. A soft bump from the door sent his suitcase, which had been right outside of the drivers’ side, rolling gently. He stood up and looked around at the airport parking lot for a second, letting soft billows drift around his face, before opening his trunk and placing his case inside.

Clark was exhausted. He had been traveling for upwards of twelve hours (a flight, layover, and another flight filled with a copious amount of screaming infants) and had slept poorly the night before. Had slept in Bruce’s apartment , he thought, rotating the thought gently in his mind as one might do to a Rubik’s cube before solving it. Had slept on an air mattress on Bruce’s floor, and gazed at his limp hand falling over the side of the bed. Had foolishly, wantingly reached out to touch it, just once..

A sharp ringing sounded from inside of his car.

“Shit,” he mumbled around a mouthful. He had forgotten to call his mother when he landed, something she made him promise to do whenever he flew. He quickly dropped and stepped on his cigarette, reminding himself to pick it up after, and opened his car to find his phone.

It rumbled urgently in the passenger and Clark sighed, already anticipating putting on a cheery voice for his mother. The screen lit up once and flashed B.

Clark lit another cigarette and pressed decline.

#superbat fic #superbat #superman #clark kent #batman #bruce wayne #superbat ficlet #rennwrites

[howtokillavampire]

Trick or Treat!

A Superbat Trick please!

Done and done! here's the ao3 link but I also uploaded it to be read here on tumblr too. Hope you enjoy it!

Out of the Rain - Superbat - 1k

The last time Bruce saw him, it was raining. He had made a miscalculation, a nearly fatal error, and found himself bleeding out in an alleyway miles away from home. Through pain and a clenched jaw, Bruce forced himself to keep moving. Puddles splashed around his ankles as he slid through the shadows, the wet pavement slipping against each footfall. 

He ducked into one of his safehouses on the far side of Gotham, hoping the med kit he stashed was still there. The stab wounds to his shoulder and gut weren’t going to patch themselves. 

Bruce peeled his cowl off and took in a gasp of fresh air. The safe house was void of decorations, with only a small kitchenette and a single bedroom with a tiny bathroom attached. Bruce had surveillance cameras around the perimeter and enough alarms to make a high-security prison cry. 

He walked to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the shitty mattress. He was about to begin stripping his suit off when he heard a faint beeping noise. One of his motion sensors had gone off. 

Through labored breathing, Bruce made his way to the computer and pulled up the footage. He barely had time to process the flash of red and blue across the screen before there was a knock at the door. 

“Bruce, I know you’re in there. Open up,” Superman called from outside. Bruce grumbled to himself as he slowly walked to the door, reaching for the handle with his good arm. He opened the door just enough to stick his head through. 

“Now’s not a good time, Kent,” Bruce ground out.

“If we’re using last names, you must really be pissed off,” Superman replied. 

“What do you want?”

“I saw you get stabbed, so I followed you to make sure you were okay,” he explained.

“So you’re stalking me again?” Bruce said between gritted teeth. 

“I wouldn’t call it stalking. More like… looking after a good friend.”

Friend. Right. 

“I’m not letting you in.”

“You’re in no place to fight me on it,” Superman pointed out. 

Batman snorted and hesitated for a moment. Then he stepped to the side and opened the door wide enough to let Kent in. He didn’t miss the way Batman favored his right side and arm. 

The door clicked shut softly behind the two men, and Bruce limped his way back to the bedroom. 

“Take off your suit so we can assess the damage,” Superman ordered. 

“At least buy me a drink first,” Bruce joked through his pained grimace. He did as he was told. Or at least tried to. He could barely raise his right arm without shooting pain racing up his side. 

“Need some help?” Kent called from the doorway.

“No,” Bruce shot back, annoyed but not fooling anyone.

“Here, let me,” Kent said softly, reaching forward. Bruce swallowed the instinct the flinch away. Kent gently removed the cape and began unzipping the suit from the back. It fell off, pooling around Bruce’s waist and staining the sheets red. Bruce held his head high and turned to the side, refusing to acknowledge how close the two men were. 

Then, Kent bent down and began slipping Batman’s shoes off one at a time. A faint flush crept up Bruce’s neck. He motioned for Batman to stand, and began unclasping the belts and holsters, setting them softly on the floor. When they were all removed, Bruce was left with only the bottom half of the costume still covering him. 

The rain tapped on the window, echoing through the quiet room. It was nearly winter, so the rain bordered on sleet, beating down heavily outside. The cold air seemed to seep in through every crack and crevice, sending a chill up Bruce’s spine. Superman reached for the clasp on Bruce’s pants, but his hands were halted by Bruce.

“I can handle the rest,” he said. “Grab me a pair of sweats from the dresser.” 

Kent opened the bottom drawer and tossed gray sweats to Bruce. He stood and watched Bruce from across the room.

“A little privacy?” Batman said snarkily. 

“Oh, right. I’ll go grab the medical supplies,” Kent offered, leaving the room. He returned a few moments later with a tackle box full of first aid supplies and found Bruce sitting on the edge of his bed in the sweats. 

“It looks like the bleeding is finally coming to a stop,” Kent observed. He set the tackle box on the bed next to Bruce. “I’ll have to stitch up the wounds. It won’t be painless,” he warned.

“Not the first time, and definitely not the last,” Bruce offered. 

They settled into a tense silence as Superman helped Bruce lay back on the bed and began preparing the tools. Despite the circumstances, Bruce was glad to not be suffering through it alone.

Kent rested a hand gently on Bruce’s thigh.

“I’m about to start, do you need something to bite down on or grip while I-” he was cut off by Bruce holding up a hand. Kent nodded and got into position.

As the needle punctured the skin around the stomach wound, Bruce’s hand shot out and gripped Kent’s shoulder with surprising strength. He held on as the first wound was patched.

“Alright, one done. Shoulder’s up next Bruce.”

Bruce nodded and tried to unclench his jaw to form a semblance of a reply, but failed miserably. Kent focused back on the shoulder wound and began his second patch job. 

Bruce’s fingers slipped down from Kent’s shoulder and found purchase on his bicep, digging in as if Bruce was holding on for dear life.

It was over faster than the first one, for which Bruce was grateful. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before slowly sitting up. 

“Thank you, Clark,” he said, voice raw. 

“Anytime, Bruce,” Clark said with such nonchalance Bruce almost believed him. “I have to finish my patrol, but I’ll come back afterward, alright?”

Bruce nodded. 

Clark began walking out of the room but hesitated in the doorway. 

“You know, you can always call me when you need a hand. You don’t always have to be a martyr for this city.”

Bruce bit down on the urge to say neither do you and instead let out an amused snort. Superman looked back over his shoulder at the vigilante. 

“You’re not in this alone anymore. Let your friends help you. Let me help you.”

“Goodbye, Kent.”

Clark’s shoulders deflated and he turned his back to Bruce. He was out the door before Bruce could blink. 

#trick or treat fanfic request #superbat #superman #batman #dc comics #dcu fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #tumblr fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst #ficlet

[superbattrash]

superbat doodle for you mwah hope you feel better <333

oh B 🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️ I do, I absolutely do. Thank you for being my bestest B and sharing your beautiful art 🥺

—

Clark blinks slowly, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. He feels an odd weight on his shoulder and tries to move his arm. Low muttering reaches his ears as a hand curls against his stomach. He stops moving.

Ah, right. He’s not at home. He’s at Bruce’s.

Which explains why he’s nearly sitting up sleeping - Bruce always has an absurd amount of pillows in his bed, despite barely using the one on his side of the bed. Because yeah, Clark totally has a side of Bruce’s bed now. He tries (and fails) not to smile at the thought. Even right now Bruce is on Clark’s pillow (and Clark’s arm) while his own lay forgotten on the other side of the bed. At least he hasn’t hogged the entire blanket tonight.

Clark turns his head to glance at the alarm clock; 4:15am. That’s early, even for him so he wiggles his arm back underneath Bruce’s back. His movements has Bruce frown in his sleep and the hand on Clark’s stomach stretches out to grab at his side. Bruce nuzzles his face into Clark’s chest and stops frowning. He smacks his lips together a few times and settles down.

Clark’s heart is squeezing in his chest. Bruce looks so young like this, so relaxed. Clark wishes he could keep him here forever and never let anything bad happen to him. But reality is that Bruce only got home from patrol three hours ago and only because he’s twisted his ankle so bad he couldn’t stay out any longer. He’s sporting new bruises and cuts and all he said when he got home was how he has to design sturdier boots so when he falls two stories and his grapple jams (Clark nearly screamed at his lack of self-preservation) next time he’ll land safely on his feet.

Bruce runs his cheek against Clark’s pec and brushes against his nipple. Clark sucks in a sharp breath and notices how tense he’s become just thinking about their earlier conversation. He’ll have to talk to Bruce about being more careful. For now he tightens his arm around Bruce’s shoulders, bringing him further onto his chest.

Bruce lets out a low snorting sound that Clark takes to mean he’s grateful for the more comfortable position. This way he won’t hurt his neck while he sleeps. Clark kisses the top of his head gently and then closes his eyes again.

Even Clark Kent doesn’t have to get up until at least 6am. If he cheats a little and flies to Metropolis he can cuddle with Bruce for at least another two hours.

#mishask #BRUCE’S ART <3333 #misha writes #because Bruce’s art always deserves a mini ficlet #I love you B 🥺❤️ #superbat #cuddles <333 #sweet b

[batkidsandco]

Sons of the Bat

(this fic was inspired by a fic prompt by @batmanfan6)

Summary: Bruce learns that he has more than one biological child.

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Selina Kyle, Clark Kent, Diana Prince

Bruce stared at the screen unblinking. This couldn’t be, it wasn’t possible. ‘Bruce,’ Superman said his voice wavering a little. ‘Do you realise what this means?’ Bruce nodded. The file on the screen was clear. Conner hadn’t been the first human/kryptonian hybrid clone Lex had made. Just the first using his own DNA. The first clone had been only a toddler when they were removed from the pod. The file went on to say how the child showed no kryptonian traits. How they were to be disposed of in the woods. But something had gone wrong and the boy’s would be killer was forced to hide and watch as a young couple appeared from among the trees. The couple had taken the boy back with them to show him to the other circus folk. But what had really made Bruce stop and stare was the second file listing the DNA sources used to create the boy. The first of course simply read Superman. The second name was Bruce Wayne. ***

‘You can’t be serious.’ Dick groaned his head in his hands. ‘I mean you can’t seriously think that file was real.’ ‘I did have my suspicions, so I ran a quick DNA test, and they both came back positive. You have Kryptonian DNA.’ Dick looked up at him his expression clear that he knew there was more. ‘You also share DNA with me.’ Bruce finished. Dick ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. ‘This makes no sense. First of all why would Lex use your DNA?’ ‘I’m not sure. My best guess is he thought I child sharing Brucie’s DNA would be easy to manipulate. After all he’s not the smartest guy around.’ Dick nodded. ‘But I don’t have any powers. Conner has some so surely I would to?’ ‘Not necessarily. There may be many factors deciding whether or not you’d develop certain powers or none at all. And besides I don’t think it’s true you inherited nothing.’ Dick’s frown depend. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Well your hearing has always been a little on the sensitive side. And whenever I took you to get your vaccines the nurse would have trouble getting the needle through your skin. But I’d never really thought anything of it before.’ Dick turned his head so he was facing the floor again. For a moment both men were silent, unsure what to say next. ‘I can’t believe my parents weren’t really…’ ‘No,’ Bruce cut in before he could finish. ‘You might not have been related to them biologically but John and Mary will always be your parents. They raised you, and a huge part of the man you are today is because of them.’ Dick nodded and smiled at him a little. ‘Thanks Bruce. Though I suppose I should start calling you dad.’ ‘Only if you want to.’ *** Bruce found Diana alone in one of the Watch towers many corridors staring down at the earth. Unsure what to say he stood and watched her as she wrapped her arms around her stomach. ‘Do you still think about him?’ she asked breaking the silence. ‘Sometimes.’ Bruce admitted. ‘I’m sorry all this is bringing it all back.’ She shook her head. ‘No it’s fine. I’ve learned to live with it.’ Bruce nodded and turned his attention to the window. It had been nineteen years but it felt like only yesterday. Not many knew that he and Diana had once had a child together. Only the original Justice League members and Alfred. They’d had a boy and he’d been perfect. At least for the month they’d had him. *** ‘No human should be that strong.’ The words rang inside Bruce’s head. Supergirl was right no human should be that strong. No ordinary human. He stared at the files in front of him. Two boys had been born on August 16th at Gotham general hospital. The wrong form had been attached to the wrong cot. Two boys had gone home with the wrong mothers. One boy had died a month later from cot death. The second had lived until he was fifteen. Bruce collapsed into his chair. It seemed Jason Todd had died twice. *** Jason’s silence unnerved Bruce more than the expected yelling ever could. Bruce had made sure to tell him outside, where there wasn’t anything for the boy to hurl at his head. But now he was starting to wonder of that had been at all necessary. ‘Is this a joke?’ Jason asked his voice catching. ‘I mean I know you have a weird sense of humour but wow.’ ‘It’s no joke.’ ‘Does. Does Diana know?’ Bruce nodded. ‘I’ve talked to her already. She wants to talk things over with you. I told her only if you want to.’ Jason nodded. ‘I do. Want to that is.’ *** Bruce wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he’d told Selina. But he was sure it wasn’t for her to burst into tears. ‘I’m so sorry she sobbed.’ She hadn’t known what else to do. Batman had been off planet with the League. They’re relationship hadn’t developed past the odd bit roof top, fun. She hadn’t learnt his real name, didn’t know who he was outside of Batman. She had almost changed her mind at one point. But the Drake’s had swooped in and adopted her baby before she could. *** This time Bruce wasn’t alone when he delivered the news. Selina had insisted on being there and now sat perched on the arm of his chair. Tim looked from one to the other as if waiting for one of them to crack up. But besides a small smile from Selina that seemed more nervous than anything there was nothing. ‘Why didn’t you say anything sooner?’ he asked her. ‘Why now. Why not the moment Bruce adopted me.’ ‘Because I was scared.’ She admitted. ‘Because I was a coward.’ She swallowed and shifted nervously. ‘I hope you’ll forgive me for that one day.’ Tim shook his head. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for. You did what was best at the time. I’m just glad I actually got to meet you.’ Selina smiled at him, stood up and opened her arms for a hug. For a brief second Tim paused before going over to her and wrapping his arms around her. Bruce was about to leave them to it when Selina pulled him into their hug. *** Bruce stood back as he watched as Damian pointed at the brightly coloured birds, excitedly telling Cass all about them. The others were using that weekend to bond with their mothers, or in Dick’s case his second dad. Well technically he was meeting with the entire Kent clan, at their bi-annual family potluck. It would be the first time he’d interacted with Lois as his stepmother. Or Conner and John as his little brothers. It would also be his first time meeting his grandparents. Diana hadn’t said what she would be doing with Jason as she wanted it to be a surprise. Though Bruce had a strong feeling he knew what this surprise would entail. Despite the fact they lived in the same city and not too far from each other at that Selina had insisted that Tim stay over so they could have a whole day together. Bruce looked at his watch and saw it was nearly 2pm. Around now the two would be going for lunch, both were late eaters. If Tim remembered to eat at all that was. *** Bruce looked at the paper and smiled a little. The papers had jumped on the story that his adopted sons were his biological children. Though they had to tweak a few details. For Tim it had been easy no lies were really necessary. It was no secret that Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle snuck off together during various charity events and had done for years.  They just kept quiet about the details as to when and where under the guise of privacy. Jason had taken a bit of tweaking but eventually they were able to come up with something believable. As with Tim they kept it close to the truth with some minor tweaks. A report or two might have gone missing in the process of making it more believable. Dick had been harder to explain. It would be easiest to say that he was his son but they didn’t know who his mother was. Only several of Clark’s journalist buddies had clocked that something was going on. They’d already figured out that his oldest Conner was also related to Lex Luthor, which had started a rumour that one of them was trans. Eventually they’d decided to tell the truth, that Dick was Bruce and Clark’s son and no they would not elaborate. The internet forums were full of people trying to figure if both the months leading up to Dick and Damian’s births had coincided with one of his impromptu trips abroad or not. In the picture the four stood arms around each other smiling at the camera. Writing under the photo read:  Pictured From left to right; Richard Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Jason Prince and Timothy Kyle-Wayne.

#ficlet #fanfic #au #batman #batfamily #dc #DC comics #bruce wayne #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Selina Kyle #Diana Prince #clark kent #wonderbat #batcat #superbat #(implied) #attempted child murder #mentions of infant death #long post