"Then it exploded, and I ended up in this strange place." You filed your fingernails as you told your story. "And an idiot mistook me for you. I had to teach him a lesson for his rudeness." You smiled, now recounting the incident as if it were a funny anecdote.
"I'm impressed, kid. I really am." The blonde shook her pigtails, amused by your story. It was far more entertaining than bothering and provoking the police officers outside the cell.
"You know, you're the younger and more fun version of my mother." You laughed in amazement. Who would've thought you'd meet a new version of your mother, younger and crazier?
"And you're the daughter I could have had if I hadn't gone insane." The woman sitting across from you smiled warmly.
"Oh, that's the sweetest thing anyone has said to me today." Of course, there had also been Jason's compliment, but you pushed it aside. You didn't think you'd see him again.
Besides, it was nice to hear kind words from your mother again...
"But keep going. What other crazy things have you done, little devil?" the amused woman encouraged you.
"Do you want to hear about my revenge on the bullies at school? A Carrie-style revenge, but even more traumatic." You smiled, amused by the memory.
She seemed to hesitate for a minute before nodding with a grin. "As long as I still have time," she said in a low whisper that you could barely make out.
You didn't bother looking at the other version of your mother. She was your mother in some way, and in such a complicated situation, having her close made you feel safe.
It was like when you were still a child and the two of you would play together, sharing secrets and playing endlessly while laughing together, before the outbursts of anger and your uncontrollable emotions.
Back when, in her eyes, you were still her little girl, an angel.
In the short time Jason had known you, you had managed to impress him. Somehow, you had carved yourself into his memory.
You went from being a crazy civilian who was probably on drugs to a charming lady with the temperament of a beast and a face that was hard to forget.
Then, while he was helping you get off his motorcycle in front of the police station, you were arrested quickly and roughly by the officers.
You left him stunned... were you a criminal?
How had he not noticed?
And even worse, why was he still hiding outside the police station?
Was he waiting for you?
Or was he actually capable of committing a crime for a complete stranger?
A commotion flooded the police station, filled with the shouts of officers and a natural fragrance. The scent of flowers lingered in the air.
Suddenly, nature invaded your cell.
You stopped telling your stories, concerned by the chaos.
"Ivy!" the crazy version of your mother shouted with joy and affection... it was the same tone she used with your father. You recognized it immediately.
"Harley was worried when you didn't show up," a red-haired woman appeared in front of your cell. She radiated elegance and beauty.
"Oh, I see you've made a new friend." She raised an eyebrow as she examined you.
"Ivy, this is ____, my daughter," she confessed excitedly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into a hug.
"Hars, that's impossible. You know that." She crossed her arms, unconvinced.
"It is, but she has the same birthmark as me." She pointed at the mole exposed on your shoulder. "We have the same appearance, and I can feel it here." She placed a hand over her heart with certainty.
Ivy decided to ignore her friend's ideas and continue with her rescue mission.
"Are you planning to take her with us?" she asked her friend.
"Yes, I'm keeping her." She grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the comfort of the cell.
"Yeah... I think that's enough. I've already broken too many rules today," you tried to refuse, only to receive two stern looks from the women.
"You're wasting our time," the redhead sighed, slightly annoyed. She couldn't say much more—you were a partial reflection of her friend.
"Are you disobeying your mother?" Harley teased, somewhat amused, though inwardly irritated by your reluctance to follow her.
Yeah... you couldn't stop yourself from being dragged away by the two women, who, now that you thought about it, seemed like top-tier criminals.
The cold of the night began to seep into your bones as you stepped out of the station. Even with the adrenaline of escaping coursing through your body, the chill remained.
Your fear grew when your eyes met those of a man wearing a red hood... he looked terrifying.
"Come on, sweetheart, don't fall behind," your mother sang cheerfully as she dragged you off to who-knows-where.
"What happened here, Detective?"
After the chaos had finally settled, Batman appeared. It was too late to stop the two villains who had escaped from the police station. Just another busy day filled with crime, too much for Gotham's heroes to handle.
"Ivy helped Harley escape. They destroyed the surrounding area and took a young criminal with them during their escape."
But Batman wasn't the only one present. Jason, or Red Hood, was already standing beside the officers, helping them deal with the chaos inside the station.
"So you just let a civilian get taken by those lunatics?" he interrupted angrily.
"I don't think it's entirely a bad thing," another detective chimed in.
"What do you mean?" Batman chose to continue playing his role as Gotham's protector rather than question his son's presence at the station and his assistance. Jason usually stayed in the city's roughest neighborhoods to protect them, and to avoid the family. He still hadn't fully processed his trauma.
"They seemed to get along as soon as Harley was placed in her cell." Jim sighed. He hadn't thought the day could get any crazier, yet here he was, recovering from the hits he had taken while trying to stop several criminals from escaping their cells.
"I heard the girl call her Mom," the same young officer added, speaking as if they were a group of gossiping neighbors at a casual gathering.
Everything seemed to stop for Jason in the middle of the chaotic building.
Then the pieces finally came together in Jason's mind.
That was why your face had seemed familiar at times...
You were related to that psychopath somehow.
Maybe your whispers about being lost and being in another place had been true.
Your words of "I'm just dreaming" weren't a dream at all. It was reality.
At least Jason's reality.
Apparently, a different one from yours... from the great utopia you had mentioned, your madness about the modern city of Gotham.
The existence of other universes wasn't unfamiliar to him. Not after so many multiversal crises.
Then the slight fascination he felt for your smile twisted into disgust.
He remembered that smile.
Your first unhinged smile when you smashed the car of the man who had messed with you.
It was the same disgusting smile as that clown's.
How could he have been so blind?
How could he have let such stupidity fool him?
Let you hypnotize him.
Let his guard down.
It had only taken a few minutes after meeting you, and you already had him playing your game.
The realization made his blood burn.
He couldn't take revenge on that clown—not after Bruce and his brothers had interfered.
But you...
You could help him deal with the anger still festering inside him.
After all, if you weren't from this universe, then you didn't matter.
Were you even considered a civilian?
The satisfaction of making Joker and Harley suffer, even versions from another universe, was strangely tempting.
The darkest part of Jason screamed for it.
Revenge.
But...
There was another part of him.
A part that couldn't forget the warmth you had stirred in him with nothing more than a few jokes and a short conversation.
The part that was still captivated by your smile and your voice.
The part that couldn't help comparing your meeting to something straight out of a novel.
You never thought you would see an older version of yourself, polished and perfect.
At first, you thought it was a cruel joke from fate during your final moments on the mortal plane.
To see what you could never become.
To see the original you.
She, or perhaps the real you, didn't get angry when she saw you. She didn't shout, nor did she accuse you of trying to take her place.
Instead, she placed her warm hands on your cheeks while you cried like a child, realizing that you would never return.
You would never feel the sun on your face again, the raindrops, or greasy food. You would never fly above the ocean or towering skyscrapers again. You would never play with children or play bingo with the elderly at the retirement home.
You would never see him again.
Your only love.
Your soulmate.
His protective arms, the jokes that made you forget your fears, his lips...
"Come on, darling," the grown woman called, taking your hand.
And you followed her, giving one last look to the only man who had truly loved you, and the man you had learned to love in return.
Being with the real Martha Wayne felt like having a mother. A real mother.
Something you had never had with that incubator machine.
The two of you walked for a long time. She led you through strange but magical places. The real you was kind. She told you many things about herself and asked about your own life.
She never compared you to her. She never blamed you for failing to imitate her, or even for trying to become her.
What felt like hours passed before another remarkable figure arrived to collect you.
"I can't take her with me."
The ominous figure, wrapped in a large dark cloak with tattered edges, stopped you in the middle of your path.
The new figure who had been guiding you stood behind you, waiting expectantly for the guardian's objection.
Death.
That was her name and her role.
A young woman with pale skin as white as porcelain, dressed entirely in black.
Ever since you had said goodbye to Martha, Death hadn't stopped talking to you. Her voice was calm and friendly. Despite her punk appearance, she was kind and understanding toward every soul whose time among the living had come to an end.
The elderly and the children were comforted by her words.
It was impressive watching her do her job, even if that job involved guiding the living into a new plane of existence and ending their lives.
At some point, you had found yourself holding a small child's hand while carrying a baby in your other arm.
The children were eventually taken from you by the hooded figures.
They were curious creatures to look at. Dark and intimidating at first glance, yet they behaved like cartoon characters around children, making them smile and helping them calm down.
"Wait, what do you mean she can't go with you?"
"She wasn't born naturally. She was never registered."
Hold on.
This was getting weird.
Since when had death stopped being something mystical and ancient and turned into a bureaucratic system full of paperwork?
Seriously.
No magical books.
No giant scrolls.
They had tablets.
Actual tablets.
"I know she's a clone, but she was still born," Death argued, trying to convince the reaper.
"Oh, here we go again. You always show up with your human copies and leave us with the difficult task of figuring out where to put these crimes and heresies against our boss."
"Are you finished?" the woman asked, clearly tired of listening to him. "I can't take you seriously in that ridiculously stereotypical outfit."
"Hey! It's Costume Day. All the reapers decided to make work a little less depressing."
"By terrifying dead souls even more?"
"It's a great outfit. We're honoring our predecessors."
What exactly have you gotten yourself into?
You were still mentally scolding yourself for your untimely death.
If none of this had happened, you wouldn't be standing here watching an awkward argument between Death and a reaper.
When you looked around again, the dark place had transformed.
Now it resembled a massive airport terminal.
Endless lines stretched toward rows of service desks, where men and women in business suits gave instructions to the deceased. They took pictures with large tablets and typed notes into them.
The reapers who had escorted the souls you arrived with either placed them in line or waited beside elderly people and children.
"You know I have way too much work to stand here arguing with you," Death said tiredly.
"And what exactly do you expect me to do about that?" The reaper pointed at you with obvious displeasure. "A few days ago, we decided we weren't accepting any more replicas of our boss's creations."
You assumed they meant the Boss.
The great creator.
The divine being worshipped by countless religions.
You had never been particularly religious. You and Conner questioned those beliefs far too often.
Still, you liked believing there was some higher power watching over innocent souls, keeping an eye on the wicked, and eventually judging everyone for their actions.
"So now what?" Death asked. "Just let her wander around? Her body is unusable."
"That's not our problem," the male reaper answered firmly.
Death seemed to consider it for several minutes before letting out a sigh.
"Fine. I'll handle it."
"See? That wasn't so difficult..."
"After I reduce my workload."
She snapped her fingers and vanished.
"Watch her for me for a while!" she shouted before disappearing completely.
"I knew it. I swear I hate that Eternal," the reaper grumbled immediately.
He kept ranting nonstop, shouting complaints in every direction and quickly informing his coworkers that the same thing had happened again.
"And what exactly am I supposed to do with you?"
Awkwardly, you looked around the unfamiliar place.
You had never imagined Death as a woman.
Or anything like this.
And you certainly hadn't imagined the afterlife looking like a giant airport terminal.
Before your curiosity could wander further, an alarm suddenly blared throughout the hall.
"Alert 3.49. A child has separated from their assigned reaper."
A loud voice echoed across the entire room.
"That's all we needed," the reaper assigned to you groaned.
Honestly, he looked close to a complete breakdown.
You felt a little sorry for the creature.
Though it was admittedly a little funny watching him slowly lose his mind.
Of course, you were still sad about being separated from Conner, especially with your future so uncertain.
But this new place fascinated you.
Even the stressed-out reaper was strangely interesting.
You wanted to help.
Partly because you suspected some of his anxiety was caused by your presence.
So you moved quickly through the enormous hall, searching for the missing child.
Finding him wasn't difficult.
Your powers had returned.
You still had no idea how that was possible.
Flying felt natural again, and with a bit of concentration, you spotted him.
It was the same little boy you had cared for when you first arrived in this limbo.
"Hello again, little guy."
"Super Nova!"
The boy looked up at you in surprise, though his face remained soaked with tears and fear.
"What's wrong, little one?"
You landed gently and knelt down until you were at his eye level.
"I don't want to be here. I want my mommy."
He broke into fresh sobs.
"I know, little guy."
You carefully took his hand.
"I miss my boyfriend too."
You looked into his eyes, full of sadness and longing.
"I really want to go back to her."
Tears streamed down his cheeks.
"Me too, but... but we have to..."
Your voice failed.
You couldn't think of a lie.
You were too heartbroken and exhausted to pretend.
Deep down, you knew you would never see Conner again.
You glanced around.
Several curious eyes were watching you, studying your every move.
Among them was the reaper you had just met, observing your attempt to comfort the child.
He simply nodded, hoping you would succeed.
Though the expression on his face clearly warned you not to create any more problems.
You were almost offended enough to protest.
But calming the boy was more important.
And, in a way, calming yourself.
The exhaustion was finally settling over you.
And so was the reality that you had truly died.
That you had left behind the only person who had ever truly understood you.
"We have to be patient."
You gently brushed the boy's hair back.
"Somehow, they'll find a way back to us."
You knew there was a chance the boy might never see his mother again.
This world of the dead was still a mystery to you.
But you were certain of one thing.
If his mother truly loved him, she would find her way back to him someday.
Your short time among the living had taught you that love could accomplish impossible things.
And right now, you needed to believe that.
"I'm impressed," the male reaper admitted, pretending to brush imaginary dust from his pristine black suit.
You ignored him at first, choosing instead to say goodbye to Nina, one of the many children you had met during your stay in the hallway of lost souls.
The little girl gave you one last smile before stepping through a glowing white door.
Even catching a glimpse of the entrance left you temporarily blinded.
A conflicted feeling settled in your chest.
You didn't know where the children were going.
Though perhaps it was somewhere better than the world of the living.
Being a hero had made you painfully aware of how rotten the world could be.
"You're hired," the reaper suddenly announced.
"What?" You stared at him in confusion.
"I don't have much time, kid." The man shook his head and tossed a black uniform at you before heading toward the area where the newly arrived souls gathered.
"Wait, I don't even know what I'm supposed to do!" you protested, still completely lost.
"Just greet the children, take them to registration, and make sure they go through the doors."
He continued walking away.
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"You're giving a dead girl a job after five minutes of knowing her!"
"Technically, you're not dead enough for the usual system."
"That doesn't answer my question!"
"It answers enough of it."
You stared at the black uniform in your hands.
Then at the reaper.
Then back at the uniform.
Hold on...
Weren't you supposed to be resting peacefully for all eternity?
"You're seriously putting that bag of calories in there?"
"I want to put them in."
Your protesting voice echoed through the kitchen.
"Chocolate chips make everything better." You smiled, ignoring Conner's advice and tossing the chocolate chips into the protein shake.
"You're addicted to sweets," Conner said, shaking his head.
"And whose fault is that?" You crossed your arms, slightly offended by your boyfriend's audacity.
"Okay, okay, maybe that was a little my fault."
Conner surrendered the moment he saw your annoyed expression.
He couldn't resist that look.
It was adorable.
You broke through all his defenses, and he willingly fell at your feet every time.
"A little?" You continued staring at him skeptically.
"Come on, sweetheart. You're the one who buys an entire cart full of candy every time we go grocery shopping."
"Hey, you help fill the cart too," you pointed out with a grin.
"No, that's a lie."
"A few minutes ago, I watched you finish an entire bag of marshmallows," you replied indignantly.
"Were you watching me, babe?" Conner flashed you a teasing smile, trying to charm his way out of the argument.
"Of course not."
You immediately denied it.
He was making you sound like a stalker.
"Relax. I know you love me. It's adorable."
"Believe whatever you want." You rolled your eyes. "But put that camera down already."
"Absolutely not. I'm recording happy memories."
He shook his head and briefly turned the camera around the room before aiming it back at you.
"Are you terminally ill or something?"
Unable to find any other explanation, you asked the obvious question.
"Of course not, sweetheart."
"Wait. Am I?"
"Seriously? That's the only reason you can think of for me recording our memories?"
Conner kept filming you as you moved skillfully around the kitchen, preparing breakfast.
"There are other reasons, love."
"Really?"
Confused, you glanced at him before returning your attention to the bacon sizzling in the pan.
"Of course. I want our kids to see how much we loved each other when we were young."
"Or you could do something more useful and help me."
You approached him, fully intending to take the annoying camera from his hands.
"Hard pass. I want to immortalize you, sweetheart."
The truth was that Conner had no desire to help in the kitchen.
Not because he didn't want to.
He was simply terrible at cooking.
And he loved your food far more than anything he could make himself.
"Put the camera down, honey."
Growing tired of his newest obsession with filming you, you reached for the camera.
You missed.
Conner dodged effortlessly.
That single action sparked a game of chase around the kitchen.
You only wanted him to stop recording.
"Come on, stop playing around and help me."
You continued chasing him, weaving around chairs and the table while Conner kept changing directions and tricking you.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let me save our memories."
"Normal people just take pictures."
You kept trying to snatch the camera away.
Even when you cornered him, he simply used his height advantage to hold it out of reach.
Worse, he never once stopped pointing it at you.
"That's boring," he argued.
You looked at him.
With your powers, you could easily float into the air and take the camera.
But you didn't.
Something about the determination behind his actions stopped you.
For a moment, you felt loved again.
You remembered just how much he had always loved you.
A smile spread across your face.
You shook your head at your boyfriend's ridiculous behavior, laughing softly at his stubborn refusal to stop filming.
It felt warm.
Comforting.
Your heart wouldn't stop pounding.
Then you kissed him.
Without warning.
Without hesitation.
You let your lips capture his.
At first, Conner froze in surprise.
Then he came to his senses and kissed you back.
"Wow, that's a lot of videos."
Clark's voice broke the silence inside Conner's apartment.
Conner ignored him.
He was too focused on watching another recording of you kissing him lovingly. That had been the day the two of you burned breakfast and nearly set the kitchen on fire.
Afterward, he had taken you out for donuts.
It wasn't exactly a healthy meal, and it was packed with calories, but the two of you had enjoyed every second of it.
"What do you want?" Conner finally asked, getting straight to the point.
He wanted the conversation over as quickly as possible so he could go back to watching more videos of you while sitting beside his giant pizza box and pitcher of alcohol.
"All your friends are worried about how much you've been isolating yourself lately."
"They'll get over it."
He dismissed the concern immediately.
"If that's all, you can leave."
He didn't even look at Clark.
His eyes remained fixed on the screen, where you were laughing while the apartment still smelled faintly of smoke from the burned breakfast.
"They want to visit this place."
Clark stopped hesitating and finally admitted one of the main reasons he had come to visit his clone.
"Now?" Conner's voice sharpened instantly. "When she was alive, they never visited. They never tried to be close to her."
Anger began creeping into his tone.
"I'm not asking you to forgive them or become friends with them."
Clark sighed heavily.
Ever since Super Nova's death, the heroes' world had been thrown into chaos.
"I just want you to try to understand them. Think about it. Imagine finding out someone created a clone of your mother. Imagine knowing her memories and legacy were being tampered with."
"You're really not the right person to be giving that speech."
Conner laughed bitterly.
The same man who had rejected him for being his clone was now defending someone who had done something similar.
The hypocrisy wasn't lost on him.
He sank deeper into the couch and took another sip of the protein shake mixed with sweets that you used to make for him.
It had no flavor anymore.
Nothing tasted like your cooking.
Nothing ever would.
"I know," Clark admitted quietly. "I know I hurt you, and we still haven't completely fixed that. But... they really need this."
"Just like she needed them when she was a newly exposed clone trying to survive in the real world."
Conner refused to be swayed by sad words and empty guilt.
It was hopeless.
He wasn't going to let anyone stain the memories that remained of his soulmate.
The small living room was a mess, but it was a controlled mess.
He had taken care of the apartment.
Every detail.
Exactly the way you had left it.
Exactly the way you had filled every corner of it with love.
"Besides, we're just having fun, as classmates," you said, brushing off the fact that the two of you were spending time together. "Don't get any ideas." You gave him a playful wink.
"As if," Karma replied casually.
At least, that's what he pretended.
The truth was, he couldn't help but see you as a bright light in his life.
"I just don't want that jerk getting the wrong idea," he added, trying to justify himself.
It was better to draw a line and not cross it, especially if it meant ruining the friendship they had.
Karma should have held your hand tighter when you insisted on stopping by a convenience store, excited to finally get a break from your latest team project.
Instead, he let go as soon as you reached the store, and you continued down the aisles, practically skipping with excitement.
Why?
Why hadn't he kept holding your soft, little hand?
Why hadn't he grabbed it and dragged you somewhere no one could find the two of you, somewhere he could finally tell you everything he felt?
He was tired of pretending it was just a small understanding between the two of you.
It wasn't just good chemistry.
He didn't want to be just your friend...
It had taken him a long time to realize it.
But by the time he did, it was already too late.
Karma still found himself dreaming about the possibility of the two of you being together.
A world where he had gotten to you before Asano. Where he had put aside his fear, his embarrassment, even his ego, and confessed his feelings.
A world where you accepted with a shy, blushing smile, and he teased you for how adorable you looked.
Only for you to lightly kick his leg or punch his arm in protest, failing miserably to hurt him.
A world where he truly appreciated you and never judged you.
Not the way you told him Asano did.
Always trying to change you, trying to make you more like him, just as snobbish and proper.
Karma was better.
He could have been better.
He would joke around with you and lovingly memorize every outfit you wore, even when none of it matched.
He wouldn't judge your taste in food, your addiction to sweets, the way you talked, or how quickly your words tumbled out whenever you got excited.
He would simply keep those things in his memory with a smile.
"So I press this one?" you asked, still confused as you tried to use Karma's Game Boy.
"Yeah, and the button in the middle," Karma advised, still focused on his workbook.
Or at least trying to focus with you around.
"Wait, I think I've got it."
A small smile appeared on your face as you spoke again.
He glanced at you, noticing the concentration you were trying so hard to maintain and the little worried expressions that crossed your face every time your character was about to die.
Then suddenly, you smiled brightly and shouted in excitement.
"I did it! I beat level one!"
Karma couldn't help smiling along with you at your small victory.
He bit his tongue to stop himself from mentioning how long it had taken you to finish the first level and the many—seriously, many—times you had died before finally clearing it.
He was happy for you.
Seeing your smile was enough.
The school trip had been long, especially the boat ride they had taken to reach the island.
But Karma hadn't minded.
Unlike most of his classmates, he never felt bored.
Not when he had spent the entire trip talking to you.
Listening to you ramble about ridiculous or obscure movies you had watched.
Or when you listened to him talk about video games and some of the best pranks he had pulled on the stuck-up students from the main campus.
For him, it hadn't been a long or boring trip at all.
With you around, he hadn't even noticed the time passing.
Even when you eventually fell asleep on his shoulder from exhaustion, he simply adjusted his position and let you rest.
The entire trip, the two of you stayed together.
Even during their crazy teacher's plans to pair everyone up.
And Karma hadn't been able to leave your side for a second, not after you had nearly died because of the virus that had infected most of Class E.
The two of you had fun together.
You had even dragged him to the beach to watch the sunset.
God, you were killing him.
He was better.
Much better than Asano.
The better choice.
Maybe even the best one.
But he never found the courage to tell you.
He never found the courage to risk your friendship.
And he certainly never found the courage to come between you and Asano.
He saw you cry.
He watched you fall apart because of heartbreak.
He saw the fights and arguments you had with Asano, who kept trying to convince you to leave Class E, even though you loved your class.
The threats to break up with you if you didn't adapt to his way of thinking.
Karma wanted to do something.
He wanted to tell you that you didn't need Asano.
That he could make you happier.
And once again, he didn't have the courage.
He didn't want to make himself vulnerable.
He didn't want to face your rejection.
So instead, he did what he always did.
He cracked a joke.
And somehow, even in the middle of your sadness, he managed to make you smile.
The entire class was well aware of the chemistry between Karma and _____.
One by one, they all tried to give them a little push in the right direction.
Every single attempt ended in failure.
Eventually, it got so bad that Koro-sensei would end up dramatically chewing on handkerchiefs in frustration whenever another matchmaking plan crashed and burned.
Well, that was true until one day things changed.
Right after vacation.
"You look grumpier than usual, _____."
Karma expected one of your clever comebacks.
Honestly, anything.
A joke about his appearance, one of the ridiculous nicknames you always gave him, one of your adorable pouts...
Instead, there was nothing.
"Come on, did something happen?" he pressed, now genuinely concerned.
"Gakushu dumped me during vacation," you spat out bitterly. "Then I saw him showing off his new girlfriend."
The entire classroom froze.
Because first of all—
Since when were you and Asano dating?!
How had nobody in Class E noticed?
How had you managed to hide it so well?
"The worst part is that he broke up with me. Him!" You crossed your arms over your desk in frustration. "It should've been me."
"Yeah, seeing his confused face would've been pretty funny. Maybe even a few tears from him," Karma said, partly trying to cheer you up by giving you a ridiculous mental image of your ex.
And then Class E finally understood.
The reason why the class delinquent—the guy who never showed fear, hesitation, or caution in anything he did—had never made a move.
Even though it was painfully obvious to everyone that Karma was in love with you.
Well.
Nothing that couldn't be fixed now.
"Children, the time has come to unite the most anticipated couple in the history of this class!" Koro-sensei dramatically announced to his students.
They waited until both of you had left.
Easy enough, considering Karma had taken you to the arcade the two of you always visited whenever you wanted to have fun.
Well, this idea was born when I heard about the White Knight Batman comic. For context, Reader is the daughter of Harley and Jack Napier, better known as the cured Joker.
While she is not completely insane, we should remember that her mother, Harley, is a cured woman in this universe. However, she still has a little madness running through her veins because of her father.
"They're just little bursts of anger, nothing important, Mom," you defended yourself when your mother tried to scold you over your erratic changes in behavior. "I'm just waiting for the medication to kick in."
You lied.
Those pills did nothing but weaken you and make you feel sick.
One day, in your life filled with luxury and the love of both your parents, you found yourself caught in the middle of an explosion caused by a technology project belonging to some of your friends.
You woke up hours later in a dark, abandoned place.
It was the same building where you had been with your classmates, yet there was no trace of any of them. Your tools were gone, and so was the machine they had been building.
Everything had vanished.
Worried, you left the building, trying to understand what had happened.
Only to find a much older Gotham City, one without the advances your beloved father had worked so hard to achieve.
"Did I hit my head that hard, or is this a dream?"
You carefully touched your head, checking for any sign of injury.
There was nothing.
You had probably ended up inside a dream while lying in a coma...
When your mother found out, she was going to lose her mind.
But everything in this city felt far too real. The raindrops, the cold, the people shoving past you without a hint of kindness. Crime was everywhere, inspiring genuine fear no matter how many times you told yourself it was only a dream. To make things worse, many people seemed to mistake you for your mother.
At some point, you began to consider that maybe you weren't dreaming at all. Maybe your classmates had believed you were dead. Maybe the university had discovered whatever had happened and gotten rid of you, abandoning you in some part of Gotham that had rejected the city's modernization and progress.
Wearing your pink heart-shaped glasses, high heels, and a red dress with black details, you walked through the strange Gotham streets, trying to find a way back home. You needed to get out of this lawless, backward neighborhood as quickly as possible.
But things were never easy.
When were they ever?
They certainly weren't easy when a crazy old man insisted he had a score to settle with you over some crime you supposedly committed. You assumed he had mistaken you for your mother, although you doubted it. Your mother was the most rational and normal person in the family.
Your patience wore thin quickly, even as you tried to stay calm, just as your father had taught you.
After enduring insults, shouted accusations sprayed with spit, terrible breath, and repeated shoves, you finally snapped.
You marched forward with furious strides. Even the curious bystanders who had been watching without intervening looked confused and frightened by the sudden change in your attitude.
"I'll show you how crazy I am, you bastard," you hissed through clenched teeth.
Grabbing a glass bottle, you hurled it at the man who had followed you, determined not to let you escape.
"And that's a bullseye."
You celebrated in a sing-song voice, a wicked smile spreading across your face, the same smile that had made many children avoid you during your childhood.
The sight of blood running down his forehead filled you with satisfaction.
But you weren't done.
That stranger had just humiliated you.
You grabbed a metal pipe lying nearby.
While the man stood there in shock, you swung the pipe into his body with all your strength.
And you didn't stop.
All you could think about were his insults, the way he had shoved you, and how he had stained your clothes.
"What do you think now, bastard?"
"Are you still going to bother me now?" you screamed as you continued hitting him.
Even after leaving him barely conscious on the ground, you walked over to the car you had seen him step out of before he intercepted you.
You smashed the windows and dented the hood again and again until you were exhausted, until every ounce of your fury had burned itself out.
"This is for talking badly about my mother," you declared, pointing the metal pipe at the ruined vehicle while staring at the man.
When you finally stopped to catch your breath, you noticed your reflection.
Your neatly styled hair was a mess. Your makeup was ruined. Blood and dirt stained both your face and your clothes.
Oh.
You had lost control.
You had broken your promise to behave.
And everything still felt real.
Sometimes you questioned why you had turned out to be such a little demon, disappointing and hurting your mother.
The malice and anger inside you were things you sometimes hated. You felt like a victim, controlled by something evil.
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, you thought bitterly.
You let the tears run down your face. You regretted hurting that man, even if he had deserved it.
Damn it, you felt like shit, and you hated it!
You collapsed on the sidewalk outside a convenience store at a gas station, a bottle of sweet cherry liquor in your hand and your eyes shining with tears.
"Why do pretty girls suffer so much?"
"You're a mess."
The unfamiliar high-pitched voice pulled you out of your small and painful drama.
Still upset, you looked at the owner of the voice, and what a surprise it was.
He was huge, towering over you. His hair was black, and he wore a black jacket, worn-out pants, and a dirty white shirt.
"Ah, I must be doing really bad if a homeless guy is saying it," you sobbed even harder.
"Hey, I'm trying to be nice," the man said, annoyed by your comment. "And you call me a homeless guy."
"Aren't you?" you asked, genuinely confused, still sniffling.
"You know, you're not really in a position to judge me when you look like an escaped lunatic from an asylum," he mocked.
"Really? I'm a mess?" You set your drink aside, wiped the dirt off your dress, and tried to fix your hair. "I thought I had that under control!"
"It seriously can't get any worse than this day," you cried out in alarm.
You really shouldn't have said that.
Life seemed determined to grant your wish.
"Relax, drama queen. It's not the end of the world." The man tried to comfort you, surprisingly sympathetic.
"I don't even know where I am," you muttered in frustration, shaking your head. You bent down, grabbed your bottle, and drank from it as if it were a soda.
"You're lost?"
"No, of course not," you denied immediately.
He was a stranger. You weren't stupid enough to expose yourself.
The man could only stare at you incredulously. He was trying to be kind and helpful, and not only had you called him homeless, but now you were looking at him like he might be some kind of criminal.
"Fine. I tried," he muttered to himself, ready to leave the dramatic woman alone with her drink.
"Yeah, that's right, leave!" you shouted after him, finding your courage again.
You had clearly decided to reject his help. There was no reason for him to insist.
But he couldn't quite do it.
You were a woman alone in a neighborhood known for crime and kidnappings.
As annoying as you were, he didn't think you deserved that kind of fate.
"Hey, I saw your little violent scene near the park."
You had expected him to be gone by now, disappearing into the darkness, not staying behind to bring up the incident from a few hours ago.
"It was pretty shocking, you know. A fashionable girl completely losing control and beating up a guy."
Without asking permission, he sat down beside you, keeping a reasonable distance.
You nearly choked on your liquor as he casually described the scene.
You were embarrassed just hearing it.
"For a moment, you actually looked pretty impressive," the man admitted calmly.
"Really? I did?" You played with your fingers at the compliment like a little girl.
"Yeah, for a moment." He smirked. "Then you looked like a crazy woman."
"By the way, I'm Jason."
"___ Na... just ___," you replied, keeping your last name to yourself.
"I can leave now, right? That man started it," you complained, still uncomfortable in the chair you were sitting in.
"Come on, Detective Gordon, you know I'm not a threat."
"Why don't you just talk to my dad?"
The officers had picked you up after several reports of a disturbance were called in.
Yes, somehow you were the criminal responsible for public disorder, not the grown man who outweighed you by at least a hundred pounds and towered over you.
The worst part was that it happened while Jason was taking you to the police station to get you some help.
You had looked absolutely terrible in front of him when you got arrested.
Such a shame.
He was kind of cute, too...
And where exactly was the man who had started the whole fight?
All you could see were police officers watching a game on a television mounted on the station wall.
Useless, you thought.
Now you understood why your father had sued this justice system and its approach to law enforcement.
"Kid, I don't know what you're talking about," Detective Gordon replied, still confused by how familiar you were acting while continuing to question you about the assault you had committed.
Why didn't he recognize you?
What happened to his usual sighs and the call to your parents?
"What? Come on, Jim, I was just giving him what he deserved." You laughed incredulously. "You know how I am." You puffed out your chest like an innocent little girl who was simply carrying out justice.
"Kid, I don't know you."
"What?"
You tried to laugh it off.
Surely this was a joke... right?
But your attention was stolen by a familiar figure being dragged down the hallway by a lunatic dressed as a bat.
"Mom!"
You called out loudly, trying to reach her, stunned by how young she looked.
Emaciated bodies, with torn and broken skin, a dripping liquid trailing from their limbs.
Laments and cries of rage, shrill and haunting screeches.
Ever since you became aware, your innocent eyes saw these terrifying beings, storing them in your mind instead of butterflies, small animals, and adorable things.
Tears of fear, nightmares, and a family that never understood what was happening—the complex world hidden from so many eyes.
"Man, seriously, a trench coat?" you held the sleeves of the coat up in the air, examining every detail of your gift.
"Yeah, I think it’s great," the blond defended himself.
"You look like a cuter female version of John," Raven teased lightly, holding a book on her lap, freshly taken out of its wrapping—the dusty smell and worn-out appearance still present.
"Watch it, girl," John snapped, offended.
"Couldn’t you have given me a spell book or some tarot cards?" Honestly, he just had to look through his stuff for some cursed object and you would’ve gladly accepted it.
"Oh, come on, it’s better than your old jacket," the man protested, mocking your already worn-out coat.
"Seriously, a trench coat?" you looked at the garment with a grimace. Even if it seemed to be in good condition, you questioned how he got it.
Besides, you wanted some cursed and cool item—to become stronger, or at least to protect yourself. The chaos of ghosts was getting you into serious trouble.
"Do you hate it?" John asked, now focused on his cigarette, sounding uninterested (or at least pretending to—you knew he was waiting for your approval).
"It’s… acceptable," you replied in a monotone voice.
"Good to hear that." His gaze shifted away from you. Ha—he was trying to hide his smile.
"I’m kidding, it’s a great gift, old man!" you threw yourself onto his shoulders to hug him, making him stagger since he didn’t have enough strength to hold you up.
It was the first gift you had ever received that was truly for you—one that had been chosen specifically for your tastes, one that showed how well he knew you.
You loved your old jacket, but the truth was that after all your ghostly adventures, it was in its final days.
You appreciated your mentor’s gesture.
"Today it’s a jacket, next we’ll fix the rest of your clothes," the older man commented casually.
"What’s wrong with them?"
"Are you seriously asking that?" Raven stopped meditating for a moment to comment.
The two of them looked at your worn, old-fashioned nightgown-like dress, clearly unimpressed.
"The spirits like it," you defended yourself.
"Yeah, but the living don’t," Raven shook her head. Most people thought your clothing was inappropriate and shameless. Of course, to her your clothes were somewhat ordinary and even sweet in a way… but she was the daughter of a demon and an expert in dark arts—hardly the right person to judge in that area.
"They don’t pay me," you countered, pointing out the irony of trying to please the living. "Besides, I doubt you could change my whole wardrobe when I earn more than you," you pointed at John.
"Oh sure, I forgot how generous the dead are," the man scoffed, still annoyed that his work with curses and ghosts never left him enough money to get through the month.
A new evil had begun to settle in Gotham, slowly rising from the depths of the city—from abandoned places rejected by the living. It was almost imperceptible.
But to trained eyes… or gifted ones, it was a warning that something bad was going to happen.
For a long moment, you watched the shadows emerging from the city’s broken corners and dark places. They all moved in the same direction, like soldiers marching toward a war—toward an unknown yet ominous fate.
You shook your head at the idea of interfering. You were in the Bat’s city—you weren’t going to break his rules as a visitor.
Even if this was also your city for a short time, its people only pushed you aside, making you feel like something unwanted and unclean—something that should never have existed.
You turned to your new client, who looked at you unimpressed, still doubting your abilities.
"This is a terrible plan. Can’t you just kill him?" she asked angrily, checking her long, perfect nails. Her hair, still lacking color and translucent, looked striking—almost fashionable.
"And end up in jail with another ghost wanting revenge because of your wish? No thanks," you refused at the mere thought.
Unbothered, you began walking in your new borrowed uniform—your spotless Mary Janes, your straightened hair with a butterfly headband, and a blue backpack.
You waited at the school entrance for a few seconds before the bell rang. The large gates were opened, and many students walked out elegantly.
"Hi, you must be Peter. It’s a pleasure," you smiled as sweetly as you could, keeping your eyes wide and shining with an innocent, dreamy glow—achieving that doe-eyed look (a result of a tiring trip and the menthol you had rubbed near your face).
"Wow, you’ve got another little fan," you heard one of the boy’s friends whisper.
Some laughs and jokes followed, leaving you aside for a moment—long enough to look at your ghost companion. The girl kept grinding her teeth manically, her pale hands clenching tightly.
Then you smiled. There was no regret in the ghost girl—she wanted you to fulfill your part of the deal.
"No regrets until the end," you whispered like a mantra—the final line of her contract.
"I found this letter in my locker, and I’d like to have that little date," you feigned shyness, pointing at the same letter you had found in your client’s locker.
"Oh, I didn’t think a girl as pretty and proper as you would accept my feelings," the boy named Peter smiled before gallantly leading you to his car. He had an incredible ability to sink his claws into something and never let go—until he dragged it to its downfall. Well… now you knew why he was the leader of this group of psychopaths, and how they had accumulated so many victims.
That day, you entered a lonely, lifeless mansion—despite the servants still present.
You were led to a massive room by the group’s leader, followed by the other members surrounding you.
You pretended to be concerned about the boys joining the “date,” but he offered reassuring words and foolish excuses.
Nervously, you smiled.
What happened in that room was always a secret… though everyone who lived in the mansion knew it very well.
Today, there was no victim. No girl ran out in tears, losing her innocence.
There were no twisted games planned by wolves pretending to be charming young men.
What happened in that room today was the twisted revenge of a girl who had lost everything—who, even in death, remained tormented.
You set aside the dirty metal bar, letting it echo against the polished floor, leaving scratches behind.
You smiled, amused, at your ghost companion, who was still processing what she had just witnessed.
Amateur, you thought, before pulling a cigarette from one of the pockets of the school uniform you were wearing. You lit it using a lighter you had stolen from one of the group members—a very expensive one, at that.
You smoked, contemplating the scene of chaos and despair you had created, recovering the energy you had spent. You needed it—you still had to return the videos to the victims who were still alive, so they would no longer be tormented, blackmailed, or manipulated.
The other tapes, the ones without owners, you would burn. You were going to erase a part of each girl’s suffering.
You were very considerate—you weren’t even going to charge for that service.
"Well, life goes on," you stretched your shoulders carelessly, while the young men lay unconscious on the floor, tears in their eyes and their bodies covered in blood.
"How did your case go? Did you manage to use the spell?" Raven looked at you, unimpressed, as you arrived covered in mud and soaked from the storm.
"Please, I’m a brilliant psychic—of course I did," you bragged, happy with your achievement.
"You failed the first time, didn’t you?" the girl mocked, still reading her book.
"Only the first time—then poof, a macabre hallucination," you smiled, waving your arms as you narrated your success. "All those guys were terrified… and then the collective hysteria, with a touch of whispered paranoia."
"Wow, you’re getting more evil by the day," Raven observed sarcastically.
"I’m not going to stain my hands to carry out revenge—it’s impractical. It should stay with them, tormenting them for the rest of their lives," your voice lost its playful, carefree tone. "They should pay for their whole lives. Besides, I just speed up karma a little—and make sure it doesn’t forget who it has to collect from."
"At this rate, you’re going to put him out of a job."
"Ha, at this rate he’ll either give me his position… or recruit me into his ranks."
Because all my good ideas end up in abandoned batfam x reader
I can already imagine a yandere older brother version of Senku… no one notices it. This boy is like a robot and a genius, without feelings—or rather, he hides that side of himself very well.
And how could he not be a psychopath who loves his older sister deeply? He only wants to protect her. You were the only thing he had left when their biological parents left them with Byakuya—the only father he truly acknowledges. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg as to why he loves his older sister so obsessively (of course, they have their sibling fights, but that’s just how they show their love).
After all, you are the reason for his love of science and his drive to go to the moon. He still remembers when he accompanied you to watch a meteor shower, and you excitedly explained basic astronomy concepts, like the moon… his eyes lit up as he looked at the satellite for the first time.
Now, in this stone world, the only thing left of his family is you.
That’s why he couldn’t allow anyone to take you away from his side. He didn’t want you to abandon him too. You were one of the reasons he never gave up when his experiments failed—if you left him, Senku would be left adrift.
So the young adult couldn’t afford to lose sight of you from the moment he freed you from the stone prison. First, it was the danger of wild animals attacking you, then the possibility of one of his enemies trying to kill you… and now, he was mentally unraveling when a man asked for your hand in marriage. The proposals never stopped from that day on.
You were beautiful (he knew it, even if he always called you ugly just to tease you). You were his sister—the sister of the leader of the Kingdom of Science. You had great intelligence and knowledge, you were sociable and easy to approach, and you had that ability to charm everyone you met.
You would simply smile when hearing a new confession and reject it politely. To you, it was just another day in the Kingdom of Science.
Senku would always mentally analyze which chemical mixture could stop your suitor and be enough to drive the others away—a warning.
But he didn’t need to. You always rejected your suitors with a smile, or accepted a date before eventually turning them down.
Even so, Senku knew he had the help of the mentalist and his closest friends, who had grown fond of his sister—because of how you treated them, like younger siblings or like a mother. They also helped, in a more passive way, to keep your suitors away… without poison involved.
And everything would have gone well… you being the perfect assistant in his new projects, just like when Senku was little and needed to be supervised by order of Byakuya after he burned a tree in the garden.
But then his mentor had to appear—the one who had guided him in his journey of building rockets.
Dr. Xeno—a man of science, a strategist with many backup plans for his great ambitions, a man guided by reason and science.
Now completely captivated by his sister, to the point of being bold during peace negotiations—if you were part of the deal.
He could only curse the mentalist for dragging you into the enemy’s territory expedition, where you were captured and detained.
And you—for being so friendly, even with the enemy. He knew how you were, always positive and kind…
Now he had to deal with a persistent, lovestruck scientist following his sister everywhere.
Of course, you rejected him, knowing what he planned to do to your brother for being the leader of the scientific kingdom.
"Maybe when pigs fly," you joked, still refusing to accept the man—you resented him for his past actions.
"Is that so?" the scientist smiled, not giving up, already crafting his plan with cunning.
What you received was a small pig flying as a passenger on an airplane.
"You know that’s not what I meant," you managed to say, almost in disbelief.
"It wasn’t specified—a loophole," Xeno smiled, amused at leaving you cornered.
You ended up laughing sometime later, still watching the pig in the sky. Something about the gesture amused you—perhaps the fact that no one had ever done something like that just to get you to agree to a date.
Oh, and that was the worst thing that could have happened to Senku—seeing how the American scientist wanted to take his sister away.
And in that moment, a silent war began—between the leader of the Kingdom of Science of Japan and the scientific leader of the United States.
One trying to protect his sister from the grasp of a mad genius.
And the other trying to win over his soulmate… from her very annoyed little brother.
100 likes to find out how Xeno fell in love with the reader or about the science war between these two geniuses
Bruce never thought he would return to his mother after the incident in which they were assaulted.
He hoped to see her in his dreams or nightmares, filled with remorse for not being strong enough to prevent her death or for not insisting they take another path.
After learning what a disaster it would be to bring them back to life with magic, he never again thought of seeing his mother, nor his father.
Then Lex Luthor, along with other scientists and a wealthy anonymous investor, created you.
He still cannot understand how they managed to replicate you and turn you into the exact copy of his mother… but those ruthless men did it, they defiled his mother’s image by creating you.
It was like spitting on her grave, which is why he began to despise you; you were nothing more than a cruel mockery to him.
Even if at first he saw his mother in you… that love turned into hatred. You were not the woman who gave him life and raised him with love since the moment he entered the world. You were not that clever and beautiful woman, gifted with intelligence, sharpness, and an unbreakable spirit.
You were just a girl, barely aware of the complicated world around you—weak, a puppet that followed instructions, with no thoughts of your own.
In that moment, he understood the feeling of rejection Clark felt toward his clone…
He couldn’t take care of you; he couldn’t accept you in the house where the happiest memories with his parents were kept.
So he pushed you as far away as he could, trying to preserve the memory of his mother.
And then came the regret. You were the living image of his mother; perhaps this is what a possible sister might have looked like, if fate had allowed it, or even a future daughter.
Perhaps it was fate’s way of compensating for the early loss of his parents when he was just a child.
Of fulfilling his wish to have saved them—this time, by keeping you safe.
But it was too late when he realized it. You had already disappeared from the boarding school; you had created your own life, your own identity, where you were no longer just the living image of his mother nor the clone of Martha Wayne. You were a student who, in her free time, helped at a retirement home, who lived happily with her boyfriend.
He… he couldn’t just appear out of nowhere and take everything from you. He wasn’t capable of it.
And when he tried, when he tried to change things, perhaps reach a small truce…
It was already too late…
Fate once again took his mother from him, or what remained of her.
And as if it were an irony, it happened in a dark alley.
"It's time to go," a gentle voice pulled you from your unconsciousness. You were still looking at your body lying in the alley.
The sirens sounded very far away, even as their flickering lights filled the alley.
Kon arrived after your heart had stopped beating. He was fast, but not fast enough.
At least he neutralized the enemy… but his state, seeing him broken, made your heart ache.
"I can't, I need to say goodbye," worried and afraid, you refused to leave.
"___, my child, everything will be alright." Her hand moved calmly toward your arm.
"But I can't leave like this, I can't leave him, I don't want to abandon him." You tried to pull away from the woman, running toward your body lying on the ground, trying to return to it—your ghostly arms passed through your body's skin.
You were terrified when you realized your situation. You had died, and you could not return. You would no longer speak with Conner, you would no longer feel his skin, nor smile at his silly jokes. You would no longer save people or visit the elderly and play checkers with them.
You collapsed onto the ground, feeling no pain at all, without the strength to keep watching your partner shattered, trying to bring you back.
Then a warmth surrounded you—the woman's arms wrapped around you in a soft embrace, full of sympathy for your situation.
"You know it's time, my child." The woman rocked you like a mother, while you cried for your desolate future; darkness and loneliness awaited you.
You had broken your promise to return home safely and wait for Conner.
What would happen to your home? It would lose its warmth, end up abandoned. You knew Conner was strong, but with your departure… it would surely break him.
And just thinking about Conner moving on with his life hurt you. As much as you wanted his happiness, it shattered you to imagine him finding someone else who would brighten his days, with whom he would share secret jokes and knowing smiles. Conner would one day forget your birthday and celebrate it with someone else; he would no longer rack his brain trying to find a gift for you.
You just wanted one more moment—to celebrate his birthday, to tell him how much you love him.
You needed to water your flowers and feed the cats in the alley near your apartment.
To defeat Grandpa Nick one last time at chess.
But you could not return. You were already dead, and you were carried away by the woman dressed in black, with a gentle smile and a peaceful face.
But she was kind—she allowed you to embrace, or try to embrace, Conner. It was a sad farewell.
And one last kiss…
Even as you drifted away and watched his silhouette in the distance, you wanted to run back into his arms.
Your giselle reader x Bruce Wayne fic is so good, I loved every part of it from her talk with Bruce to her encounter with Damien. you have no idea what you have done, you just scratched a piece of my brain, will this be just a one shot or will it have other parts?
Anyway I hope you have a wonderful day x
Ohhh, you really flatter me.
At first, they're always one-shots until I see how they're received.
But I'm actually thinking about writing a short story, a manga, after your comment. Although the posts will be a bit slow given the other stories I have and my academic schedule.
Reader Giselle from Enchanted x Bruce Wayne - Reader Giselle from Enchanted x Bruce Wayne
“Don’t you believe in love at first sight?” you asked innocently, amused by wanting to know about your hero’s happiness in this strange kingdom.
“No, it’s something very childish and I don’t have time for that,” the man denied seriously, little interested in your questions. He only wished you wouldn’t waste his time—he needed to work.
“But like that you’ll never find your true love!” you couldn’t help but feel sad and distressed for the man.
“That doesn’t exist,” he denied, pushing aside his failed love stories. He wasn’t going to mention them; surely you would ask questions and end up saddened by how they all ended.
Bruce kept dragging you through the halls of the great crystal castle.
“But you’ll end up alone.”
“I’ll worry about that later,” he said before leaving you in a solitary room. In a hurry to leave, he warned you not to cause problems or bother his employees, and to stay in that abandoned room.
You were the daughter of a duke. You grew up loved and overprotected, in a kingdom filled with animals, flowers, and magic. Even past the age considered proper for marriage, you lived happily, taking care of your father’s lands and their people, who loved you for your kindness and your concern for them.
But one day, your calm yet lonely life changed.
While you sang in your picturesque garden about the kiss of love you had shared the night before with a mysterious man, alongside your little friends who helped you give a face to the man of your dreams,
you were attacked by a great troll that longed to devour you. The troll had caught you while you were distracted.
But you were saved by a prince charming.
Meeting for the first time made your hearts click, when Edward held you protectively after bravely stopping the great troll.
“You saved me,” happy and dreamy, you looked in awe at the prince who had saved you, who held you protectively. Your heart beat loudly, the sound reaching your ears.
“I couldn’t let that monster end such a beautiful lady,” the man, just as enchanted, couldn’t stop looking at you, blinded by your beauty and your smile. “The woman of my dreams.”
You smiled—you had finally found your prince.
“You… you are the man of my dreams too,” in disbelief, you hugged him, filled with happiness.
And like an endless connection that couldn’t be broken, both of you made a decision.
“We must get married,” the two of you repeated, full of excitement, singing about how you had both dreamed of this magical union just minutes after meeting.
Your mother had always told you stories about princesses who found their princes after being saved, and a beautiful happy ending… In this world, the one you knew, love appeared with just one glance.
You believed you deserved this ending, after working so hard caring for the village without rest. You longed for the same love your parents had.
With dreamy eyes, the two of you rode toward Prince Edward’s kingdom.
A pity that Edward’s stepmother, your prince charming, would do anything to make sure her throne and her title as queen would not be taken from her.
Even if it meant deceiving you and throwing you into the great magical lake of the castle.
You ended up in a strange place, far from your kingdom.
A place without your animal friends, without fairy godmothers, enchanted castles, or magical creatures.
You ended up in Gotham.
You were lost in the middle of a great city, with gigantic diamond-like castles packed tightly together.
You could barely move in your large white dress, under the confused stares of strangers. Many of them laughed, some complained about your interruption when you asked for help.
They were not like the people in your kingdom, who were kind and full of smiles. In this strange place, they were more like tired, grumpy people.
But you didn’t give up—you kept walking along the kingdom’s paths, which soon turned into a confusing labyrinth.
Lost and exhausted, you ended up sadly in a huge royal garden, surrounded by dazzling but strange flowers and tall trees.
Birds and squirrels began to follow you. They were great company, though it was a pity you couldn’t quite understand their words—they didn’t speak like in the place you came from.
“Oh, kind little elder,” you said hopefully, gently interrupting an old man sitting on a bench feeding some birds. “You don’t know how happy I am to meet such a sweet and kind man.” You approached him with trust, wearing your dreamy and gentle smile.
You saw the little man smile. Even though his appearance was somewhat worn, his smile gave you comfort.
“Could you help me find the royal castle?” you asked hopefully.
The man nodded, pointing somewhere with his finger. You followed his indication, looking at an empty spot with nothing special.
Suddenly, your head felt lighter.
Your crown!
“That’s my crown!” you protested when you saw the man running away.
“That is very bad of you—you are a very bad little elder!” you shouted, disappointed.
Discouraged and alone, you ended up sitting on the same park bench, about to give up your search for the castle of Aetheria.
Your prince must be wondering why you hadn’t appeared, surely thinking that you had abandoned him.
“Here, this is yours.” A boy handed you your tiara rather roughly, though you didn’t notice—for you, he was a very kind child.
“Oh, what a great little knight you are,” still in tears, you thanked him sincerely. “You are my hero.”
Excited, you held out your crown to some pigeons, and with their little feet they picked it up.
“Wait, why are you giving it to them? You’ll lose it again,” Damian got annoyed when he saw you toss the crown to the birds. Great—he had wasted his painting time on a crazy civilian and some strange birds.
“Don’t worry, they just want to help.”
“Is this a joke?” Damian looked at you strangely, beginning to wonder why he didn’t just leave you alone with your madness.
The pigeons flew toward your head, placing your tiara gently on your crown, in the most suitable place, guided by the orders of other pigeons watching you.
“Thank you, little friends,” you thanked the pigeons for their great work. They even brought you a small mirror so you could see it—petals fell softly into your hair as more little birds joined in. “See?” you looked at the boy, whom for some reason you had annoyed.
“You’re very foolish,” Damian said, irritated. Even so, he was impressed by your ability to get along with animals—you had exceeded his expectations. For a moment, he even wished you would teach him that princess trick.
“You know, you should put that jewel away. Someone else will try to take it,” Damian advised. Everything about you screamed expensive and delicate, as if you were royalty… any lunatic would see you as a target.
“But then I won’t be ready for my wedding.”
“Wedding?” now you had caught the boy’s interest, and he decided to listen a bit more to your nonsense. Besides, the small birds on your shoulders had begun to perch on him.
Damian wouldn’t lie—he liked that the park animals had started to play with him.
“So you’re a princess?”
“Yes,” you nodded with a bright smile as you petted a small puppy that had run to your legs.
“And you were going to marry a prince, who, just minutes after saving you, proposed marriage,” Damian said, almost on the verge of losing his mind at how crazy that sounded.
“It was love at first sight.”
“And you ended up here because a witch threw you into a lake that turned out to be magical.” Honestly, Damian had never thought a kid could have an aneurysm, but with you, maybe now he did.
“And you ended up in Gotham, of all places.”
You nodded repeatedly, agreeing with his words, as if all the nonsense he said were true.
He could only think that you had escaped from an asylum and that you were from a wealthy family—that explained your royal clothes.
Because… how was it possible that you were a princess from another dimension?
Then he thought about it again—your jewels, your way of behaving, your ability to get along so easily with animals. You weren’t crazy; he knew what the deranged looked like.
I can’t just leave you in the middle of nowhere, nor take you to the police. He thought about his father and the League, but they would doubt you too…
Besides, you had called him your hero. Surely he could help you. Your situation didn’t sound that difficult—either he found the asylum or the family you belonged to, or he found something about your world in a book.
He needed something entertaining now that his father had punished him with patrol duty for an indefinite time.
So Damian didn’t hesitate to take you to the mansion. It’s not like his family would notice—most of them were lost in their own worlds. Well, except on the rare quiet days when they were almost a normal family, but lately everything had been chaos. Damian would help you before his family’s chaos settled and they noticed you.
But he hadn’t counted on his father, a little guilty for punishing him, trying to spend time with the boy.
Bruce did not expect to find a stranger dressed like a princess, wearing what looked like curtain fabrics, baking alongside some birds and rabbits as her assistants—while his son sat nearby in the kitchen, reading and tasting the cookie dough.
Sometimes emptiness is filled with the least expected things
maybe with the one who fell at your feet clumsily.
You fill that void… you learned how to do it, so that darkness wouldn’t consume you.
you chose to be loved, rather than be lost trying to figure out whether the best you could do was imitate the image of a woman into a beloved mother and wife, or to be someone completely different, going against everything you were taught.
"from now on you will be in a boarding school, the Mother Superior will take care of you" he was harsh with you from the moment he saw you for the first time, even so you remember how he called you mother in a slip, his neat and imposing appearance was broken by his voice, for a moment… before really seeing you and feeling disgust for the aberration that you were.
"you will stay there even during vacations, you will not mention us, nor will you try to contact me or my family" he warned, even without his suit he was imposing behind his desk.
timidly you looked at the man who had taken you in when you were rescued from the ruins of your home, discovered by strangers after being left without the protection of your protectors, you were helpless in your new environment.
still lost you tried to form a sentence, but what would you say or where would you begin to look for answers, but what would you ask?
why were you being abandoned?
what were you supposed to do now, what is your role?
would you return with the scientists someday?
you nodded, still observing with curiosity the facility you were in, it was enormous, but lacking modern technology and the smell of antiseptic.
even so this place was also very cold, lacking any warmth, your pale and frozen skin already accustomed, did not protest.
even so you longed to feel warmth, the famous rays of the sun on your skin.
that same afternoon you were dismissed with empty looks, not only from the head of the family, but also the other members
no goodbye, not like you were used to with your former tutors, not a "goodbye number 0021" just a deafening silence, you could hear the birds singing in the garden
"thank you sir Bruce" politely and upright you looked at the man, who watched you from the top of the stairs "to you and your family"
it was a short stay and devoid of emotions, deep in your mind you wished never to return
you were aware of the hatred and pain you caused
From the day you and Conner met.
the two of you became inseparable, not only as teammates, even though at the beginning you were reluctant to face villains with his support. your relationship became deeper…
it was a tough fight, and when it ended it left you both completely worn out, you had to sit at the top of a building, tending to each other’s wounds, even with Conner’s Kryptonian genes, he let you put a bunny bandage on his cheek and wrap him up.
"this way I feel more human" he defended himself quickly, without giving you a chance to protest or tease him
of course Conner let the alcohol burn on his skin, if that meant feeling your touch on his skin, your soft fingers still warm from the bright energy you had emitted during the fight, on his face.
"stay still" you complained to Conner when you saw him being very restless, frustrated with your failed attempts to heal him
"I'm trying but it hurts" he lied, the longer you took to heal him, the more he could feel your warm touch.
"that’s a big lie, you have a high pain tolerance, remember?"
"I never said that" Conner denied your accusation, indignant
"uh-huh" still not believing Conner’s lie, you put more alcohol on a new piece of cotton and cleaned a wound on his arm.
"ouch! you’re very mean, you know"
"I'm just trying to heal you" you smiled lightly when you saw the look of horror on the boy’s face.
"no, you’re just hurting me more, now I need a kiss to ease my pain" he looked at you innocently, as if what he had just said wasn’t something very bold on his part.
but you played along, after all it had been a very tiring day and you were both a mess from all the effort you put into the fight.
you kissed the clean little cat bandage on his cheek, leaving the boy frozen for a couple of minutes
maybe it was the fact that you were clones, and you had an attachment problem, so much that you needed to be together constantly. after all, in a world where both of you are just copies of important figures, you felt a sense of normality together, that you were real.
even more so having never felt love from your progenitors… do you even have them?
you became an anchor for each other, without having to fulfill a role or expectations, without the uncertainty of whether you had done your new roles well or if you had failed.
but that’s where the problem lies, in that codependent relationship you maintained, the two of you became unable to open up to others, creating an unhealthy dependence between you.
"didn’t you plan to go out with your friends?" lying on your favorite armchair, you were reading a romance novel that one of the scientists had recommended to you while they were educating you
"no, I’m more comfortable here" Conner sat beside you, carefully lifting your legs and placing them on his lap, but he didn’t let go, his hands played as they massaged your feet with his large, calloused hands
"you’d rather watch me read and massage my feet than go eat pizza and play video games? seriously?" you looked at Conner like he was strange, for preferring a boring day in an apartment over obvious fun with his friends
"it’s like a dream" Conner sighed dreamily as he watched you, still playing with your feet "besides, you can read to me" he suggested, more interested in the book you were reading, and in stealing your attention
"how about a movie" you set your book aside, looking at Conner in his comfortable spot, he was relaxed "the science fiction one you mentioned" you remembered when Conner told you about a recommendation he had seen, his eyes full of excitement, not stopping describing every little detail
"oh, that’s why I adore you" you saw Conner burst with happiness before eagerly looking for the TV remote
"but there’s a problem" you said with slight concern
"whatever it is, I won’t let it torment the woman of my life" you rolled your eyes with amusement
"we need ice cream"
"ice cream of—" Conner pretended to think for a minute before answering confidently "strawberry" "strawberry" both of you spoke in unison, with big smiles
"Isn’t Conner coming?"
"he canceled again"
"man, ever since he got his new girlfriend he’s left us aside"
"she’s not his girlfriend" Tim denied, he was sure, he had talked with his friend about that matter, he only received a negative and defensive answer
"classic denial, it was to be expected after his boyfriend abandoned him" Bart joked under his breath
everyone around them noticed every change that Superboy and Supernova went through, the heroes began to see how Superboy started to follow his own rules and fight alongside Supernova, leaving his team aside at times, especially during training, it didn’t help that the new heroine Supernova refused to cooperate with the League.
their lives as civilians also changed, you left your boarding school and Conner left the house of his adoptive family, the Kents, to live together in a new city plagued by crime and overlooked by heroes, because it was small, facing criminals at night and trying to have a normal life as civilians, studying or having part-time jobs, depending on each one’s new dream… having the appearance of adults and highly developed intelligence didn’t help when choosing your future when you had only been alive for a few years
one day you could spend the whole night roaming the city, keeping the streets safe, and the next lock yourselves in your small but cozy apartment, lying on the floor on top of each other, watching the small dust particles floating, illuminated by the rays of the sun.
that was the warmth you had been searching for, your skin warm and full of color
"ahhh I won… bingo, bingo!" you shouted loudly, jumping from your seat.
you earned surprised and slightly frightened looks from the elderly women and some of their grandchildren who accompanied them that day.
you were adapting perfectly to your new job as a volunteer in a nursing home
"we have a possible winner" the host announced, taking your sheet filled with marks on all the numbers, she went to check them with her coworkers.
you stayed nervously in your place, hoping you hadn’t misheard a number, you wanted one of the prizes, no matter what it was, anything would make you happy.
"come on, don’t worry, they’re probably right" Conner took your hand, squeezing it, he had noticed your strong interest in the game, it was truly important to you, unlike him who got bored after the first hour and ended up watching you as if you were a painting most of the time, and talking with the elderly women about their lives with you, describing you with affection, just as the elderly talked about their past loves.
"but what if I got it wrong" frightened, you looked at him before hugging him, trying to calm yourself.
Conner, surprised at first, didn’t move, he had never thought you capable of taking something so small and turning it into something important, he quickly returned to normal as he became more aware of what was happening, then like a proper man, just as the grandmothers had advised him, he hugged you protectively, giving you words of encouragement, to which you didn’t complain and instead settled against his chest.
Conner could feel the proud smiles of the grandmothers and grandfathers for his good job following their advice.
"and we have a winner, please come forward to receive your prize" a voice announced over the speaker.
as soon as you heard it, you jumped with joy, shouting euphorically, it was your first bingo game, and you had won. the first game with many people you had, not a simulation, nor as a form of study… for the first time you had fun
you were so excited that you jumped celebrating your victory just like the children who had won before you…
"yay! I did it!" you kept jumping with a smile spread across your face.
some of the elderly looked at you with affection because of your victory and your childlike reaction, all for a small prize.
when you opened it, you received a 50% discount ticket to a frozen yogurt shop, your smile didn’t waver, you were still happy, jumping with excitement.
when you returned to Conner’s side, you showed off your new ticket, to which he could only smile and congratulate you on your great bingo victory.
you didn’t hesitate to run into his arms, letting all your weight fall onto him, Conner simply held you firmly without any complaint, lifting you into the air before spinning you around in his arms.
you spun without stopping, laughing and celebrating.
"it was a great day" Conner was still devouring his tub of ice cream on the living room couch, relaxed among pillows and the breeze coming in through the window
"I know, we got ice cream at half price" you nodded, taking big spoonfuls of frozen yogurt into your mouth, smiling amused by the unforgettable day you had
"I can only imagine more days like this…" Conner hesitated for a moment, he thought it might be better to postpone his plans, but it was now or never "with us together"
"don’t we already do that all the time?" confused, you answered, not noticing the heaviness in the air
"yes, but not as a couple" Conner stopped holding back his thoughts, confessing what he truly felt, even though he had always been open about his love for you, to him it was clear that you saw him as a jokester
"what? I thought we already were" you didn’t blink or shrink nervously, you used a steady voice while scraping the ice cream still on the surface of the container
"not just as a pair of heroes"
"of course, we don’t just fight together as a pair, we are a real couple, aren’t we? at least that’s what I thought" confused by Conner’s constant questions, you clarified the relationship you had, or at least the one you believed you had
"____, don’t joke" Conner, still skeptical, watched you for any hint of a lie, but your sincerity remained "how did you come to that idea?"
"we’re partners, we live together, we spend most of the day the same, we eat, we watch television and we even sleep the same" you listed the things about your relationship, focused on proving that you were a couple, you didn’t want to lose Conner just for taking things for granted "we know each other’s likes, what we dislike, the days we spend together even when they are tiring and full of disasters, are the best, I couldn’t even think about changing them"
Conner didn’t respond, he avoided your gaze, leaving you in a heavy silence, nervous that you had misinterpreted social cues again…
and just when you had started to feel confident that you could fit in like a normal person, not one created in a laboratory
"wow, you just ruined the big plan I had to ask you to be my girlfriend" Conner moved closer, and with a bit of childish frustration, pinched your cheeks
"but knowing that you saw me that way, drives me crazy"
you breathed in relief upon hearing him speak, you hadn’t messed things up, your former boarding school classmates would be proud seeing you with Conner and how you followed their advice about love
"maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about you" his lips met yours, you were nervous on the couch, listing the correct way to kiss that your classmates had shown you through elaborate slides
but Conner took control, guiding you carefully, until you forgot to count and let yourself go, wrapping your arms around his neck
you were just two kids, not fully understanding this strange world, finding a place…
of course Superman began to worry when he stopped seeing his clone, it was strange not to see him trying to take his place anymore, and knowing that he had left the care of his parents alarmed him even more.
Bruce was also unsettled when he learned that you had left the boarding school, but seeing that you still used the credit card he had given you was enough to know you were alive and not look further into your whereabouts.
as Batman, he also began to have territory issues when the new meta heroine entered Gotham… it was a trip, Conner wanted to visit his friends and you wanted to go to the grave of your original self to pay your respects.
Tim didn’t fall behind either, he analyzed every move of his friend and teammate, he was becoming unstable, unable to keep up with the team dynamic and his role as a hero, all because of his new little girlfriend
everything reached its breaking point in an exhausting week
it started with a plan where many villains joined forces to defeat the League, the Young League, the Titans, and other groups of heroes
"something is wrong" you had started to suspect from the beginning, when you and Conner stopped a criminal smuggling high-tech equipment
"you’re just being paranoid" Conner moved closer to your side, unconcerned
"I’m sure, I have a strange feeling" you defended yourself, still thoughtful.
"come on, sweetheart, it’s nothing… you’re just still upset because I ate your hidden snacks" Conner, at your side, tried to get some of your affection, rubbing his head against your shoulder like a cat
"no, that’s not it… wait, it was you!!!" surprised by your boyfriend’s confession, you set your concern aside
"pfff, of course not!" he moved away after realizing he had confessed his crime, he knew what you were capable of
"don’t even think about it, I’ll catch you" you warned playfully, as the man started to fly
you followed him, launching yourself after him, leaving the police with the task of taking the criminal away
"well, I’d rather take the risk" Conner smiled
the villains’ real plan had grown to a larger scale while the two of you were spending a small vacation with his adoptive parents, the Kents
but life smiled at you, with the great effort of every member of the League, they managed to overcome the great chaos that was coming
even Batman and Superman had set aside their constant opposition to the relationship and new alliance that Superboy had with Supernova
both had been present at the celebration party the heroes organized
"I have to go"
"already? you’re going to leave me here alone" Conner pretended to be hurt, he didn’t want you to abandon him at the party, he wanted to have fun with you, even when he wanted to leave with you, you refused, saying he should enjoy the victory
without energy, not a single drop of your power left, you headed to your small apartment in a city near Metropolis, the same one you shared with your boyfriend
you hurried to get there, you wanted to prepare a cake for his birthday
too bad you never made it to your small home…
your kindness was greater, and you tried to help a woman being robbed in an alley a few streets near the subway, believing you were capable of controlling crime even without your powers
it was a shame that you weren’t
as soon as the woman being robbed managed to escape, you were attacked
you tried to raise your palm, hoping a spark of light would come out…
it never did, only a clean gunshot followed by a sharp pain.
"hey, what’s your name?" an unknown boy asked you, interested, invading your personal space, not reacting to the large hole created in the laboratory.
"...." you didn’t answer, reluctant to interact with a stranger, you needed to find your tutors. besides, you were scared without their care and your situation alone
for a moment you couldn’t take your eyes off the boy, something in you recognized that hair and those eyes from somewhere, they were familiar
"oh come on, I don’t bite" he kept getting closer, relaxed, he didn’t even consider you a threat
you avoided his gaze, still frightened.
"I don’t have a proper name" under pressure you confessed, breaking a rule about not revealing your identity "my predecessor was called Martha" without any emotion you spoke again.
"predecessor?…" Conner didn’t understand at first what you meant, not until he saw the same machines in which he had grown and been created "I see" he felt reflected in you, a lost and aimless clone, made to fulfill high expectations, only to be discarded later
"well, how about a new name, to start your new life" he suggested when he saw you quiet and scared, he had noticed how lost you felt, it bothered him to see you like that, he wanted to see you smile and be at ease
"....." you didn’t respond, you only watched the actions of the unknown boy, who acted with confidence.
distracted, you let him talk while you examined the abandoned laboratory, searching for any trace of your tutors.
"how about Rose" he suggested
you didn’t respond, ignoring him.
"Mary"
"...."
"Summer"
"...."
"come on, show a little interest" Conner kept trying to get more words out of you, but he was starting to lose hope "you know, I won’t give up until we find the perfect name"
"is that so?" without looking at him, you questioned the boy.
"of course… a pretty girl needs a name, one that men remember, the one who stole their hearts" Conner said confidently "besides, I’m bored and we have plenty of time"
you smiled, what a strange boy you had just met.
"and if we don’t find it…"
"I will, I’ll make sure of it… I’ll save you from an existence without a proper name"
"and if it takes weeks"
"they’ll be the best hours spent"
Does anyone have any other ideas or possible theories about this?
i imagine you running away from the grand penthouse of the tallest skyscraper in Metropolis, the place you called home ever since you were under Lex’s command.
it was an easy task for you, very easy in truth, too bad your nervousness and fear didn’t let you notice the truth…
you never realized that Lex’s plan was already being set in motion, of course that psychopath couldn’t allow his pupil to keep longing to leave and drift away from his grasp (he used the same plan Dracula had with his daughter Mavis), to scare the girl about the outside world so she would never think of leaving again.
even though Conner didn’t take part in the plan, out of concern for frightening you, he didn’t oppose Lex either, no, the boy focused on watching over you from afar, preventing anyone from hurting you and only stepping in when he saw you in danger, besides that way he could see you smile, see you happy, something he loved about you, of course he wasn’t a stalker (he was), he just loved every little thing you did.
at first, everything was like a fairytale for you.
people looked at you in awe because of your beauty and the expensive clothes you wore; in the eyes of strangers, you were a celebrity.
some photographers on the street approached you, asking you to pose for them, and as a kind young lady, inexperienced in noticing the dangers around you, it didn’t worry you. after all, you were helping art students with their projects.
the elderly vendors at their stalls, seeing you curiously examine their products, couldn’t help but gift you a trinket or something small; after all, every time the young girl focused on each object with excitement and curiosity like a child, a large crowd of customers would gather to buy from their stand, drawn in by her presence.
even children pulled you along to play in a small park, playing with toy swords or balls, even tag. the girls sat you down on a bench to brush your hair and fill it with flowers.
you even ended up being interviewed by a news channel about the festival that was taking place… your clean yet familiar image stayed in the minds of the viewers, a sense of déjà vu.
then the problems began.
a woman caused a scene over the necklace you were wearing, claiming you had stolen it. she turned rough and physical with you, yanking the necklace off your neck. the police did nothing, afraid of making the chaos with the troublesome woman worse.
a man scammed you by pointing out a hair clip, claiming you had broken it and that you had to pay for it. innocently, you took out all the money you had in your wallet, and before even waiting for the correct price of the item, the man snatched all the bills from your hand before roughly pushing you out of his shop.
a car splashed water from a puddle onto you, without fault, without apology—just continuing on its way.
a disgusting man tried to approach you, his sinister smile and his arms reaching out to grab you, only for you to be saved by a group of young men, who were also unpleasant to you before letting you go with mocking smiles and harsh words… (Conner took care of beating them after you left, for talking to you and trying to get close).
of course, this wasn’t exactly what Lex had planned, but seeing you through the cameras he controlled, he let it happen—if it managed to scare you enough, who was he to complain.
then came the attack on the city by an android Lex had created.
it caused great chaos in the streets, all the citizens running, shoving whatever was in their way with force—even if it was you, frozen in place, unable to move.
as you were pushed, crushed, and scratched, all you could think was that Mr. Lex had been right—the outside was dangerous.
words of hatred, disgust, and complaints about you being in the way fell over you from strangers. everything was chaos, so hard to process that you curled up in a secluded spot, sobbing, wishing for this nightmare to end.
as the chaos finally settled, you realized the calm—everything had disappeared.
you found yourself in front of Conner, who looked sweaty, adrenaline still rushing through him, a large broken robotic hand in his grip, loose wires hanging from it.
“are you okay, doll?” he called out, relief clear in his voice as he saw you safe.
“…” you didn’t respond. you tried to keep your composure, but failed miserably, sobbing in fear.
still shaken, you ran into his arms—they looked welcoming, familiar, safe.
you almost stumbled in your worn little heels, having to clutch the expensive coat Mr. Lex had given you so you wouldn’t fall.
you had to stand on your tiptoes to reach Conner’s height. he caught you in his strong arms, lifting you slightly, keeping you away from the dirt of the pavement.
even as his arms pressed tightly around you, you didn’t complain—you let yourself sink into his hold.
“so, how was your little adventure?” Mr. Lex waited for you in the living room, seated comfortably in his favorite chair, handling his tablet.
“it was horrible,” you answered in a low voice, trying not to sob. “you were right.”
“___, i always am.” he barely looked at you. “now go clean yourself up, dinner is almost ready,” the man ordered calmly.
you nodded, too drained to endure Mr. Lex any longer.
“well, you did it.” Conner dropped heavily onto another armchair across from the man he shared genes with.
“it was expected.” Lex didn’t look at the boy, nor was he surprised by the results—it had been his plan, after all.
“and to think i almost believed you’d gone soft being around ___.” without a trace of surprise, Conner kept his gaze on the cruel man who called himself his father… no, better—gene donor, that sounded less unpleasant.
“i wasn’t going to let humanity and its filth damage a perfect specimen. i invested many resources in her creation,” Lex explained calmly, without a hint of moral conflict, only satisfaction at having ensured that ___ wouldn’t even think about leaving again.
“if you keep talking like that, you just sound like a father who doesn’t want his daughter to leave the nest.” the young man shook his head, something about the situation amusing him. “i guess old age is making you feel lonely.”
at no point did Conner feel jealous or bothered that you had the affection of his supposed father—it was more of a relief, knowing you would be well cared for and protected while he couldn’t be by your side.
you still hadn’t fully adapted to existing, nor to his closeness. he just had to keep trying until you fell completely in love with him, before setting his new life with you into motion.
maybe with Lex’s help, if he played his cards right.
“i think it’s time for you to leave.” Lex ended the conversation, setting his tablet aside and heading toward the dining room to wait for you.
“you know, father, i think i’ll stay for dinner,” Conner smiled with amusement. “with you and your lovely assistant.”
his assistant—or rather, the girl under his care—that’s how he introduced you to Conner, nothing further from the truth. you had been made to be his Lois Lane from the very beginning, while he was meant to be a new Superman.
not like you would ever need to know that.
Lex sighed, exhausted by the immature boy he had created, only hoping you would appear soon to keep him in line—and ask him, with interested eyes and a bright voice, about his work.
Okay, I just realized that if Lex created her or oversaw her creation, she's like his daughter, even though she has none of his genes; she's more like a complete replica of Lois.
He's like her father or something… Well, not quite like that here… While he does take on the role of a platonic yandere, they're not related at all, much less to Conner.
He's like a man proud to have a pupil as fantastic and misunderstood as himself… or something similar, and not as intelligent as him.
okay, the first version was very well received, and a kind person suggested a new possibility to me…
the only way it could have been possible was through Lex Luthor.
Lex, being a good father in his own way (a complete sick man, really), created a clone of Lois Lane for his son (of course, it was also his new way to control the young Kryptonian).
of course, this egocentric man believed he could properly educate Lois’s clone, making her docile and loyal to his orders, perfecting her charm and beauty for his son—someone he would never want to be separated from, basically a toy that Lex could take away from the young Kryptonian’s hands to make him obey.
and this madman succeeded—he created a clone of the woman the Man of Steel seems to love, Superman’s greatest weakness. Lex created a perfect clone, a Manic Pixie Dream Girl specimen molded by him.
only now, seeing you shy and almost on the verge of an anxiety attack, being tightly held by Conner, he questions whether he did a great job… or failed at some point.
you no longer obey him—not since Lex placed you in his son’s hands, who doesn’t stop approaching you and treating you in such a needy way.
he still remembers your betrayed eyes.
you had seen in Lex a figure of safety… something almost paternal or platonic.
Lex didn’t want to admit it, but he grew fond of you—of the way you looked at him with so many doubts and fear, until you listened to him attentively, accepting his words as the only truth. you had great respect for him, he could see it in your eyes. even so, you were affectionate with him, preparing desserts or silly crafts for him (he kept them in his office), telling him over dinner about the books you read or things you had just learned. he considered you his greatest pupil or apprentice… perhaps even a successor as a plan B.
“i saw your new interview, mr. Luthor, it was great,” you praised with a small smile as you picked at the food on your plate.
“it would have been better if i hadn’t been assigned such mediocre staff.”
“as expected of you, sir,” you nodded, agreeing with the man. “even with setbacks, you don’t let them overshadow you or make you look ridiculous.”
pleased, Lex continued handling his work tablet, having already set his food aside, but waiting for you to finish—it was part of the routine.
but even with all his effort, Lex’s plan failed, because his supposed son no longer even bothered to listen to him. although he managed to make him spend more time with him, he couldn’t change his heroic ideals at all. Conner only acknowledged you (like a rebellious young man in love) before going to find you and spending all his time with you, like a dog deeply attached to its owner.
if in this story Conner is obsessive over you…
it’s very simple—in his mind, you are a clone, created only for him.
you actually needed him, unlike the civilians he saved, people who loved their hero Superman. you would only wait for him (Lex convinced Reader of the dangers outside and to distrust people from the outside—except for him and his son).
besides being a clone of Superman, Conner feels deep inside a certain predilection or fascination for Lois Lane, ever since he met her for the first time… so it’s not strange that when he is presented with his own Lois Lane in clone form, he doesn’t hesitate to get close despite the obvious warning signs.
at first, it was curiosity, along with a slight suspicion about Lex’s true intentions. Conner didn’t believe in the idea that a clone created to contain him would be effective—it was simply absurd.
but then he met you.
you were a caring girl, you always followed the rules, you were kind even when it wasn’t deserved (you tolerated Lex greatly). he noticed your passion for art, how you had filled hundreds of books and painted your room, your eyes full of longing for the outside of the great building where you were confined, how you admired the birds that passed by the building, wishing for their same freedom, the absurd habit you had of saving specific newspaper clippings and keeping them in a book like a treasure…
he simply fell in love with every part of you.
“do you think that someday mr. Luthor will let me see the city?” you asked dreamily, still watching the tiny people through the window.
“do you think the old man is capable of that?” Conner didn’t answer—both of you knew the answer. it wasn’t something that bothered him. here, you were safe. of course, he couldn’t take you on dates to the mall, a park, or a café, but his ideas of dates inside the skyscraper were great efforts, ways to make you notice his love more.
“maybe… just maybe,” your voice was unsure, full of doubt.
Conner didn’t speak, he just looked at you, captivated by your positivity—even when it faltered.
you were adorable, even with a pout on your face.
“no… he isn’t,” you denied, disappointed.
“hey, come on, don’t feel so bad—you have me.”
you didn’t react to his words, nor to his touch. you let him take control of the conversation.
“i should celebrate that,” you said with irony.
“of course—you’ll get to hear my stories about the city and a small but picturesque town…” Conner, seeing your lack of interest and how you began to entertain yourself with your painting book instead of looking at him, intervened, almost shouting, “and rabbits, lots of rabbits!”
“rabbits?”
“yeah, thousands of adorable rabbits.”
the boy knew your weak point—animals, little balls of fur that Lex hated having in his home.
that day ended with both of you lying on the carpet while Conner narrated places he had visited outside the skyscraper, and you listened dreamily, curled up against his shoulder, his stomach, or his legs.
the idea of reader being a clone of Bruce’s mother has always lingered in my mind.
La mitad de tus genes provienen de la familia Wayne y la otra mitad de algún humano con el metagen en su sangre; no es que los responsables de tu creación se hayan percatado siquiera de ese gen en ti.
Todo porque un hombre obsesionado con Martha Wayne no pudo soportar su muerte.
you were the living image of Bruce’s beloved deceased mother, having her same features, her eyes, her strands of hair, that charming smile full of love.
a great torture for the man who saw that same smile fade away, lose its life, in a dark alley in the middle of the rain.
Superman or Clark wasn’t the only one who had an unknown clone made against his will—so did Bruce, or Batman… only this time, it was the living image of his mother.
he didn’t accept you, he never opened his arms to receive you. the mere idea of seeing your face or hearing your voice disgusted him.
you were a stranger with his mother’s appearance. he hated the scientists who created such an atrocity, who defiled his mother’s name—therefore, you too, for being their creation.
“i see her face in her,” his voice was one of resentment, the man avoided looking at you. “all i feel is disgust.”
you, still unaware of the outside world, were conscious of the implication of his words—you would never be accepted.
with no solutions for your presence, you were left in a private boarding school. your new life, after leaving your growth tank, was in a school separated from society, in some town with a forgettable name.
there were few days when you were taken to Bruce’s house, the man who, even with his hatred, accepted being your legal guardian.
Bruce was never kind to you, nor warm, he always ignored you, constantly avoiding you.
you could always feel a past air in his gaze.
the children of the man who took you in were also cruel, they constantly ignored you, looking at you with resentment.
you knew why—you weren’t stupid. the scientists made sure to fill your brain with a lot of information from books, science, mathematics, psychology, social behavior… they resented you for how you made their father feel.
you also started to hate your image—were you despicable? at least, that’s what you began to believe.
you used dyes of different colors in your hair.
you wore contact lenses of other colors.
you wore black clothes and strong colors, chains as accessories, dark and glossy makeup, heels or high shoes with buckles, bows, and chains.
you left behind your white headband, the small cream pearl necklace that one of the scientists gave you after her trip to the sea, your mary janes, your pastel blouses, and your classic skirts.
even so, it didn’t work—Bruce kept seeing his mother’s face in yours, the fine facial features still remained in you.
your life was lonely… without scientists calling you a good girl when you showed good results on their tests, without their pats on your head, without their voices or their faces full of excitement to discover more about you.
you missed your development tube—or as you named it, mother. after all, it was the artificial womb that allowed you to grow, you missed its warmth.
you lived a low-profile life, even from those who were supposed to be your family.
well, until you discovered something new in your body. mr. Lex would surely be happy… or at least, that’s what you think the scientists would say when they saw you.
your fingers emitted a bright light—it was intense, and it kept growing more and more radiant.
when you were unable to contain it, you threw it toward a tree. what followed was a loud explosion, with a blinding light surrounded by dust.
“wow, did i really do that?” you looked at your fingers, in perfect condition, and then at the crater you created, in disbelief.
somehow, you became a superhero—or at least, you tried to.
even when you were inexperienced and clumsy, you never gave up, you kept trying, all to have the same smiles full of excitement from other people, their soft voices of gratitude.
people needed you, just like the scientists did.
that led you to meet the other clone the scientists had created first.
the same one from the artificial womb tank, who was beside you.
you remember his eyes, the same blue eyes that stared at you through the glass.
your gazes always met even as you developed in the tank, in the middle of a room that constantly changed. what you remember the most are those blue eyes.
when you learned the meaning of making friends… you thought of the other clone. it would have been nice if you had met after finishing your development.
but it was a shame that they took the other clone away some time later.
at least, that’s what you believed—until, during a school trip from your boarding school to Metropolis, you saw him again after a villain’s attack.
when you saw him again, when you looked into those blue eyes once more, you felt safe again. as strange as it sounded, it was like the attachment ducklings feel toward the first thing they see.
you felt back at home, that room full of computers, artificial lights, a scent of cleanliness—your real home.
“so you’re the other clone,” the boy looked at you with a mischievous and wild smile.
“the blue of your eyes is just as i remember,” you got lost looking into his eyes again, just like in the lab days. “they’re still beautiful,” you confessed without any shame or embarrassment.
“are you flirting with me, pretty?” Conner asked, a little nervous, trying to stay composed.
“am i?” you tilted your head onto your shoulder, confused, still looking at him.
“…” he didn’t respond. you moved closer to him, your hands going to his face, examining every detail of him, hypnotized by his image.
the scientists were right—he was their masterpiece.
after that day, you no longer had a lonely life…
now you didn’t just have your boarding school life and your amateur work as a heroine, but also a new friend…
someone who was just like you.
a friend who insisted on always accompanying you, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your cheek, calling you pretty…
It's just a draft; if it's well received, I'll continue it and give it more meaning.
your little daughter was sleeping, you watched her carefully, examining every small detail of her little body, her small nose, her soft hair, the delicate lips with which she tried to call you mama, her little hands that she used to search for your touch.
her eyes... you wanted to wake her up and observe her beautiful brown eyes, you still try to guess if they are your eyes or her father's..
"___, we need to talk seriously" Dick had placed his hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you.
the only thing you felt was how your bubble of calm was breaking, your skin getting goosebumps and your pulse becoming cold
you nodded after a few more minutes looking at your little daughter.
it was time to accept the consequences of your actions. the justice league had frustrated your great plan, ending with all your companions imprisoned, you were the only one standing.
at least you managed to brainwash many criminals... the joker would no longer be a problem, you avenged your friend Alicia and Jason
now comes the most difficult part, you have to face your whole family, the people you met a long time ago, and the new members.
"___" Bruce was the one who recognized you first, your name sounded strange in his mouth, it had been a long time since you heard your name with that voice.
the man's voice had changed, you vaguely remembered it as a voice lacking interest...
it was a bucket of cold water to know that your family belonged to the heroes who protected the planet, all your life they hid it from you, ha, you were never enough to know their true identity. it was a bitter taste in your mouth.
even having closed that chapter of your life, they found a way to make you feel hurt
you didn’t greet, you looked at him for a minute, before diverting your gaze toward the other heroes, you were more interested in how the procedure to deal with you as a criminal was going to develop.
you could only think about your daughter, would you not see her anymore? would she forget you? would she hate you for choosing to clean the world for her?
you were interrogated by Martian Manhunter in a small room, far from your father, far from your brothers. even being a bad person, the man did not treat you badly, he was kind.
with his gaze you remembered the same look your teacher gave you when they saw that no one in your family had shown up to a family event, you were one of the few students forgotten by their parents.
speaking of looks, you remembered Damian’s hurt look and Jason’s clear conflict, who carried a stroller with your daughter sleeping. both had been present when the rest of the family, in their roles as heroes, had raided your home with the intention of arresting you.
you admitted to being the mastermind of the plan, you answered without opposing and without lies
"you don’t look affected by your frustrated plan" the man questioned you, confused
"oh, that’s what you think" you smiled, pretending bravery was the only thing you could think of, you were not going to show yourself vulnerable "I already completed my plan, to show the potential of project Alice" you stared fixedly at the man "the people who have lost a lot will take care of keeping the project alive"
"it is unlikely, no good civilian would take the risk" the extraterrestrial denied, your plan lacked logic, they were only vague hopes
"the desire for revenge of the innocent and their lack of action as heroes, before the villains who take innocent lives and their light punishments" you pointed at the hero "it is and has always been the engine of the plan"
you presented your masterpiece to everyone present who watched your interrogation, you were not stupid to not know that all eyes were on you, even if it was through cameras
"you don’t seem like a bad person, what made you change to that mentality?" Martian Manhunter did not hesitate to ask you that question
"when you have something valuable to protect, you don’t hesitate, you become a monster just to see their innocent smile preserved" you said with certainty, accepting that you had become a villain for your daughter and your deceased friend.
a moment of acceptance for you turned into torment, when your whole family had the audacity to face you
"you shouldn’t have done it ___, what were you thinking" Bruce confronted you, his hand had pulled you aside to a secluded place, before scolding you, like a little girl who had gotten into trouble
"playing with people’s minds at your will" his hands gripped your arms tightly, you, motionless and shocked, watched "that was very cruel, you are already an adult, you have a daughter and a job, you threw everything overboard for what? a revenge"
oh, so now he was going to be a good father, after having cast you aside.
now knowing that your father was Batman, things fell into place in your head.
he lost his parents to a criminal, his actions are not very different from yours, in your opinion.
a great irony.
it was great hypocrisy on the part of your father, or rather of the man who took you into his home.
"no, I didn’t throw it away for a stupid revenge, I did it for my daughter and her future" you defended yourself, firm without backing down, you were no longer a child "if I have to be a bad person, to not see my daughter die at the hands of a psychopath, so be it" you shouted angrily, your progenitor was no one to judge you
not after Jasoon.. had.. had disappeared... although you are not so sure if he just disappeared.. something bad happened to him, of that you were sure
"there are other ways" Bruce denied
"like what, being a vigilante, leaving my daughter aside"
"I.. I didn’t do that" Bruce refused to believe that truth, he gave you a home, a good education, shelter, food, luxuries
"oh, that is a big lie, tell me, if I had not done project Alice, would you have even looked for me?" exasperated you looked at your progenitor’s face, seeing his reaction "you disowned me since I arrived at your home" you denied
"that’s not..."
it was exactly the reaction you imagined, it was a no, he would not have noticed your existence
"you raised many children who don’t even have your blood, you were a father to them" you spoke fast, without stopping, you were not going to allow them to interrupt you "and I don’t judge you for that, I do it because you were never a father to me, you never took a few minutes to be one"
"___"
"you and the others made me feel like trash, someone who didn’t need to be seen"
"did you even notice that I left? do you know how old I am? what I studied or if I didn’t continue university?"
"..." a great silence formed in the room
"not even you know it" you looked at Dick, Barbara, Tim, Stefany, even Jason... it hurt to accept it, but if the right events had not happened, Jason would have never found you or even looked for you
"that’s not true" Dick intervened, he refused to believe your words, he did not forget you, you just grew up, you left, and he became an adult, with his own responsibilities
"come on, you distanced yourself after adapting to your new life" you pointed at Dick, staring at him, leaving him speechless, only broken syllables
"that doesn’t give you the right to judge criminals, you don’t know what you are doing" Tim decided to intervene, but his words did not calm you
"what is it that I don’t know? you’ve been fighting since you arrived at the mansion, and tell me, have you achieved anything?" you questioned him
"___" Jason tried to get closer, leaving your daughter with Damian, trying to calm you, just like those times when your anger controlled all your emotions, even when you became violent, a tight hug from Jason was enough for you to calm down, he endured all your anger, harsh words and blows... but this time it was not the same... somehow you felt betrayed by your dear brother
"no, not you, you always hid that secret" hurt, you stepped back "I told you so many things, how I felt being left aside, you accepted it, you made me believe that truth"
you looked at your whole "family".... you still question if things could have been different
"I don’t think you are the best to judge me" trying to compose yourself you spoke
"no.. I shouldn’t say this... but I hate this family, I hate it so much" your eyes burned
"it shouldn’t be like this, it’s not normal" you denied, still trying to convince yourself otherwise
you think... you think you are very fucked up..
without strength you fell to your knees on the floor, covering your face with your palms, wrapping yourself in darkness.
time stopped when you lifted your gaze, you were confined in a cell, alone with your thoughts, waiting for your sentence
now you knew that your little one did not possess your brown eyes, they were never your dull and deep brown eyes, they were clear and dreamy ones, you knew it when you saw those eyes again, in another person whom you knew very well
you allowed yourself to cry, to lower your guard, you no longer needed to be brave in front of your little one, she is being taken care of by your father and brothers, you were sure they would love her, that is the good thing about people when they grow older, age makes them more considerate and kind
just like you used to do on those stormy nights, where two lost adults let everything out, in the middle of laughter and silly conversations, telling painful truths lost over the years
when a warm comforting touch surrounded you, and the world stopped, and you felt safe, even if the world were ending
only this time he watched you, he did not move, paralyzed he analyzed you, watching you break into tears
were you a monster? surely you were...
your mother would be very angry, surely she wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes... even so, you wouldn’t care, if that meant seeing her again
maybe your daughter will truly never forgive you
you can only remember her big smile when you took her to a small park, you played all day with her, you both swung on the swings, you held her with one arm on your lap and with your other hand you held the chains, even tired you kept pushing with your feet, seeing her smile and raise her little hands
when you took her to a small beach, where you helped her walk on the sand, and you played putting your feet in the sea, how your little one kicked the water with excitement, you had to hold her tightly for fear that she would throw herself into the water to feel it more
Ahhh, I'm back on this series, I need to finish it… even though I've lost my inspiration and ideas, but I'm going to try.
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