#absntia

[nighttknight]

@absntia​ // a starter because we’re both weak for this photo

It had been one miscalculation. One lousy miscalculation that lead to this. He thought he managed to collect and hide all kryptonite. After all, he spent years tracking down fragments and going undercover to purchase fragments on the black market. He’s even stolen kryptonite from Luthor’s fault. The issue wasn’t that he missed a piece. Rather, the issue was that he didn’t hide one of the pieces well enough. Luthor stole his piece back and by the time he realized it, Clark was already injured. Despite being injured the stubborn man, who convinced him to train him how to fight without his powers just a week ago ,pushed through, pushing his body far past his limits all so Bruce didn’t have to fight Luthor alone. It was a foolish decision that he will most certainly scold Clark for once he’s feeling better. 

Wonder Woman and Cyborg arrive in time to help clean up the mess and it’s a good thing too because, for him, the world faded way long ago. Witnessing Clark collapse he had become overwhelmed with concern and rage, two emotions that the last he felt them at this intensity had been when Jason died. Clark is all muscle and lifting him is no easy feat, even with all the weightlifting he does. But it’s worth the strain, worth the pain to see and feel that Clark will be safe soon. Once they’ve rounded a corner with a bulding now blocking them from prying eyes, he presses a kiss to the top of Clark’s head. “I’ve got you” he says, hoping to comfort both Clark and himself. “Everything  is going to be alright.”

[super-maine]

“Hang on, I got you.” ( from bruce ! ^o^ )

He does his best to breathe in small, shallow gasps. Kryptonite gas is one of the most dangerous forms or kryptonite because even he needs to breathe. Pushing upward with both his hands and knees, he makes a shaky attempt at standing. Wobbling rather intensely, his legs soon buckle but a black clad arms wraps around his waist before he tumbles to the ground. Suddenly thankful for the fact Bruce taught him more code, he taps out a ‘thank you’ against Bruce’s arm.

[lamnta-arc]

𝚈𝚘𝚞  𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑  𝚏𝚘𝚛  𝚑𝚒𝚜  𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍  𝚒𝚗  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜,  𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚕  𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛  𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜  𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍  𝚑𝚒𝚜  𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝  𝚊𝚜  𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑  𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎  𝚋𝚘𝚢  𝚠𝚑𝚘  𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎  𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎  𝚊𝚕𝚕  𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚑𝚊𝚍  𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛  𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎  𝚝𝚘  𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎.  𝚊𝚗𝚍  𝚊𝚕𝚕  𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝  𝚒𝚜  𝚏𝚘𝚛  𝚑𝚒𝚖  𝚝𝚘  𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠,  𝚏𝚘𝚛  𝚑𝚒𝚖  𝚝𝚘  𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝  𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛  𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚜  𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍  𝚘𝚏  𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎  𝚠𝚑𝚘  𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔  𝚝𝚘  𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚢.  𝙰  𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛,  “𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛  𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗  𝚒𝚜  𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐.  𝚆𝚎  𝚊𝚛𝚎  𝚗𝚘𝚝  𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚜,  𝚊𝚗𝚍  𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢  𝚊𝚛𝚎  𝚗𝚘𝚝  𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗𝚎𝚍.”

𝑻𝑯𝑬  𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑾  𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑺  𝒀𝑶𝑼  𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑻 ,   enough  to  pierce,  claw,   tear  at  the  calm  of  his  touch    ——    and  how  it  brings  alight  every  wicked  edge  of  your  most  vicious  fears.    draw  sharp  intake  of  breath,   hushed  against  night’s  cover ,          ‘    𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭  𝐬𝐚𝐲  𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡  𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 .    ’          weighted  as  WARNING    /    PLEADING  if  only  to  stifle  the  truth’s  overwhelming  grip.    you  know  how  this  would  be  received.    you  KNOW  because  you  have  been  kept  and  cradled,   in  every  instance  that  has  been  concealed  from  him  in  the  quiet  of  your  tongue,   when  your  father  would  pull  you  into  his  embrace ,    [    𝚒'𝚖  𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍  𝚏𝚘𝚛  𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 .    𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝  𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜  𝚏𝚘𝚛  𝚑𝚒𝚖  𝚊𝚜  𝚑𝚎  𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜  𝚏𝚘𝚛  𝚢𝚘𝚞 ,   𝚊𝚗𝚍  𝚒  𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛  𝚑𝚎  𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜  𝚗𝚘𝚝  𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 .   𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝  𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙  𝚑𝚒𝚖  𝚝𝚘  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ,   𝚖𝚢  𝚜𝚘𝚗 .    ]          these  words  split  your  soul.   you  stare  at  the  ceiling,   abyss  in  the  dark,   and  will  unspoken  tears  in  the  corners  of  your  eyes  to  scald  amidst  your  marks    —    𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒔𝒐𝒏 - 𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒏  𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒆 .

             ‘    can’t  you  feel  it ?    ’          you  stifle  a  shudder  with  a  squeeze  of  his  hand,    how  words  drip  in  hollow .         ‘    the  evil .    ’          and  perhaps  it  frightens  you  most  that  he  does  not.    could  it  mean  that  the  evil  has  poisoned  him,   driven  him  away  from  the  light ?    or  perhaps  he  has  always  been  touched  by  the  angels    /    𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕  𝒂𝒏𝒅  𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓  𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆.    you  turn.    meet  the  divinity  written  in  the  sea  of  his  eyes  and  draw  your  fingers  carefully    —    tentatively    —    against  the  silken  waves  above  his  ear .

             ‘    it  aches,   splinters.   it  would  devour  me,   if  father  had  not  led  us  to  the  light .    ’          swallow  back  the  grief.    seek  home  in  the  planes  of  his  face,   ethereality  and  balm  to  the  twisting  of  your  heart .          ‘    we  are  saving  souls    ——    their  souls.    𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭  𝐚𝐬  𝐰𝐞  𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞  𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧  𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 .    ’

|     |     |     |     |     @absntia​

[nighttknight]

♡ ( FROM CLARK -- ROMANTIC ! )

Clark is good about understanding his boundaries and respecting them - it’s why Superman doesn’t kiss Batman when there’s a risk of someone walking in on them. Batman doesn’t enjoy having an audience and likes to hold himself to a higher standard - he likes to give the Watchtower a sense of professionalism. Besides, there’s enough PDA going around thanks to some of the younger heroes who are still in the honeymoon phase of their relationships. 

His boundaries relate to a strict rule of professionalism, and much to Clark’s delight, this doesn’t apply to the cave underneath Wayne manor. Clark takes advantage of this, throwing both patience and caution to the wind as he touches Bruce as soon as they’re in the cave. It starts like it always does, a hand rests on his shoulder and travels down his arm, ending with their hands intertwining. It’s a subtle affection and a means of Clark testing the waters. Just what mood is the Bat in? Is he in a cuddly mood tonight? Or is he tired? Or does he need some space? Clark always waits, waiting for a content sigh to escape his lips for continuing. If the hand holding is well received he gets bolder, releasing him in order to capture him again, gentle hands tugging him forward by his hips, eager to pull him into an embrace. 

Hands linger on the small of his back, keeping him pressed close. There’s rare moments, moments like these that Clark occasionally breaks from routine, dipping down and taking a minute to listen to Bruce’s heart. It’s amazing how something as simple as steady beating grounds one of Earth’s strongest heroes. Tugging his cowl and gloves off, he tosses them into a nearby chair. He runs a gentle hand through Clark’s hair. “Like what you hear?” he chuckles, rolling his eyes as his comment only results in Clark tightening his embrace. His chuckle soon fades into a mumbled complaint. “Come back up here and kiss me or I’m kick you out.”

[super-maine]

" uncle clark ! " ( have a hug from baby dickie )

Bruce may scold him for doing so but he doesn’t care. The utter glee that radiates from Dick’s smile is worth any and all nay saying from his father. Setting his paper bag full of maple flavored treats on the counter, he stoops down to pick up his favorite sidekick. Dick is currently the only sidekick he knows but honestly? That fact is irrelevant. Bruce’s first son will always have a special place in his heart. “Good afternoon to you, birdie.” Lifting Dick up to give him a mid-air hug, after a good squeeze, he gently sets the boy back down. “I brought you the good stuff. Real maple syrup. And some maple candy. But you can only have it after you’ve eaten lunch.” 

[nighttknight]

SMASH OR PASS (FOR CLARK ;)

SMASH OR PASS

“I’m Batman. Not the Hulk. I do not ‘smash.”

[nighttknight]

@absntia​ // METAHUMAN!BRUCE STARTER CALL

Clark’s actions speak louder than words as he kneels so he’s eye level with him. Bruce managed to more or less control his powers but with a recent spike in crime, both in Gotham and internationally, his stress and exhaustion spiked as well... And it seems that stress and exhaustion impact his ability to control his powers in a rather unfavorable way. He’s spent hours struggling to center himself, trying to stop himself from repeatedly teleporting. He’s got a pounding headache and he’s so tired he can feel it in his bones. If it were any other situation he’d grumble and protest, but he knows Clark’s feelings are warranted. If the situation were reversed he’d be as equally as concerned. 

Shifting to sit on his knees, he emits a heavy sigh. “I’m to tired to talk about it right now, in case the fact I’m currently on the floor didn’t make that obvious. Although I suppose you can help me up. Now stop giving me that look.”

[vincitia]

the smile you bury into his neck is sweet, COAXING, a stranger to the rising tension that has cast the week in shadow. he is so easy, sheep to wolf and flesh to fang , ❝ missed you today. ❞ the itch remains even as you take him into your arms, press lips against temple and hum , ❝ i know it's late notice, but i might go out for a trip this weekend. ❞ you anticipate the upheaval / puppy eyes and desperate hands, and how easily charm rises to meet the challenge . ❝ it'll be hard to be away from you, but . . . think that would be alright ? ❞

@absntia : 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔 & 𝐊𝐈𝐓 .