Long time no see friends! I made this artwork as a sort of meditation on my own fears of being perceived by others as well as myself. Ive also been thinking a lot about how we can never experience reality as it is, we can only experience our perception of reality and that perception if affected by things outside of our control and yet a negative perception will hurt more than any real pain.
I havent posted in a long time because I had a mysterious illness for months and then finally when I was feeling better I hurt my foot and have to wear a boot cast for months and now that I am almost recovered from that I got a really bad concussion. Luck has not been on my side it seems. But I do have outlines for my two main fics and an outline for my next essay which will be about free will and perception. For anyone waiting on my next fanfic essay, I have been a bit hung up on how to define what fanfic is in order to show how it has preexisted any novel and story form as we know it. I am wondering if every piece of art or writing or story created is inherently a sort of fanfic as we pull symbols and meaning from reality (canon) and create something new to inform our perception of reality.
Anyways, I see everyone’s likes and comments on here and Ao3 and it has helped keep me motivated even while going through medical hell. So thank you everyone that has been interacting with my content!!
Hopefully I will have more content coming out soon!
Sorry I haven’t posted in a while 😔 I low key got the AO3 curse again. I got really sick and then both of my eardrums ruptured so I don’t have functioning eardrums right now. Also have to wear a heart monitor for one more week because I had weird palpitations.
I got the curse this time last year when I decided to work on a fic I had on my other account but then all the appliances broke in my apartment on the same day (except for the fridge). Which I know sounds impossible but I promise you it happened. I had no heater, water heater, stove, oven, or microwave. In winter. My apartment didnt believe me at first so it took a while to get fixed and I had to shower at the gym. It was an electrical issue and the power company had to get involved. They weren’t even sure if they could fix it at first but luckily they did after about a month.
Anyways, if anyone knows an etsy witch that does a good protection spell let me know because I am low-key a little scared to post again.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | AO3 |
This is a special chapter/oneshot that does not impact the story.
---
Yay we got to 500 kudos! Here is a special filler episode that doesn’t relate to the canon of the fanfic. This is inspired by my favorite kdrama Secret Garden.
I will be taking a brief hiatus after this while I catch up on all my other works and read up on as much DC lore as I can. I want to introduce more characters, but I am not sure when they get introduced in the timeline.
Thank you so much for reading and an extra thank you to everyone that comments! I read all the comments I just feel awkward responding for some reason…
TW: switching bodies and everything that comes with that. Possessive/jealous Bruce Wayne. Alpha!Bruce Wayne, Omega!Clark Kent.
---
Clark was the first to wake up. He had to be at his desk by 8am and always made sure to make himself a good hearty meal before he left. But when he opened up his eyes this time, the sun shining through his window didn’t greet him. And not only that, his body felt heavy and borderline painful.
He winced and grabbed his side as he sat up. A bandage wrapped around his abdomen and below it was a deep purple bruise and a recently stitched up cut. This wasn’t right.
Slowly, he looked around the room. It felt like he was in some sort of ornate vampire lair. Heavy black-out curtains kept out any possible sunlight and the furniture looked like it was out of some Victorian period piece. A four-poster bed, silk sheets, portraits hung on the walls.
This really wasn’t right. Have I been kidnapped? he wondered.
He tried to use his xray vision to see around the darkness, but nothing happened. His eyebrows stitched together. He assumed that maybe he had been depleted of sunlight for so long that his powers weren’t working. But that doesn’t explain the random cut on his abdomen which seems like it had been carefully tended to.
After a few moments of searching, he managed to find the light switch. In the darkness, he couldn’t make out people in the portraits, but with the lights on he could clearly see Bruce Wayne. There was a painting of him as a child, young adult, and then a more recent one with him and Dick.
This didn’t make sense. Clark looked around the room for any sort of clue as to why he was in there and even called out Bruce’s name a few times.
“Master Bruce, is everything alright?” Alfred asked from the other side of the door.
“Uhh,” Clark panicked. How was he going to explain how he got into Bruce’s room? “No?”
His own voice rang in his ears. That wasn’t his voice, that was Bruce’s voice.
In that moment, Clark became painfully aware that he was not in his own body. He found the door to the ensuit bathroom and screamed when he saw his reflection. Somehow, he had woken up in Bruce’s body.
Which meant…Bruce was in his.
---
Sunlight filtered in through the open windows in Clark’s apartment. Chirping birds and the occasional honk of a car horn heralded the start of a new day. It had been so long since Bruce had heard any of these noises in the morning that he just assumed he was still sleeping.
With half-lidded eyes, he looked around at the small room. The sheets were unusually corse under his fingers, unlike the silk ones he was used to. And not only that, his body felt light. There were no aches or phantom pains that he became so accustomed to.
He curled up under the sheets, trying to block out the light. This was a very realistic dream. He hadn’t felt something this lucid in a very long time. Since it was a dream, he contemplated trying to fly or other things that he could only do in a dream.
A loud ringing broke his serene silence. He groaned and lazily looked for where the noise was coming from. He eventually found a phone plugged in and ringing on a bedside table. But the caller ID confused him, it said his name.
For a moment, he contemplated not answering. What dream makes him answer a call from himself? But curiosity got the better of him.
”Hello?” He asked tenatively. But his voice wasn’t his. That realization sobered him up instantly and he sat up in bed and assessed his surroundings.
“Bruce!” He heard himself yell on the phone. Bruce held the phone away from him as if it could explode at any moment.
“Who is this?” Bruce asked.
”It’s me Clark, I think we switched bodies,” He or rather Clark shouted from the other end.
Bruce looked down at the phone skeptically but a quick glance down at his body confirmed that he had in fact switched bodies with the Kryptonian. “What did you do?” Bruce accused.
“What did I do? What did you do? I didn’t do anything. This is crazy. I didn’t even know this was possible. How do we switch back? Who did this? Oh my God…I have to go to work. I mean you have to go to work. Oh my God what do we do,” Clark stammered. He was searching Bruce’s room for any evidence that could help explain how this happened.
On Bruce’s dresser was the bottle of medicinal wine. One of Dick’s friends in school boasted about going on a hike with his family so Dick was adamant that they needed to go on a hike and that he wanted both Bruce and Clark to be there. Bruce, willing to do anything for Dick, agreed.
While on the trail, they came across this really nice old lady who said that she used to hike the trail every weekend with her husband to pick plants to turn into medicinal wine. But now with her husband dead, she had no one to give the wine to so she offered two bottles, one to Clark and one to Bruce.
The two men were very skeptical, but Dick found the whole interaction to be very nice and heartwarming so he insisted that they took the wine. And that night, in their own homes, the two men drank it.
“The wine,” Clark said. “Did you drink the wine?”
Bruce looked around Clark’s room and saw that right next to where the phone was charging, was a cup. It was the wine.
”Do you think she was a witch or something?" Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, or rather Clark’s nose. “Maybe Zatanna or Constantine will know what to do.”
”Yeah they’d know…uh Bruce,” Clark hesitated. The idea of Bruce going in to work for him gave him the chills. But he also couldn’t risk losing his job. “I’m supposed to be at the office at 8.”
”Ok? Just tell them you’re sick or something,” Bruce responded. There was no way that he was going to go around in public pretending to be Clark Kent. The heightened senses were already giving him a headache and Clark’s apartment was sealed to keep pheromones from leaking in. Bruce had no idea what it was like for a highly sensitive alpha to walk around Metropolis and he was not going to find out.
“You see the thing is,” Clark rubs the back of his neck. He was searching through Bruce’s closet for something to wear, but Bruce seemed to have only a bunch of the same things. White dress shirts. Black slacks. Black suit jacket and a black tie. “I do that quite a lot, you know since I’m often busy being Superman. And Perry, my boss, said that I couldn’t keep randomly calling in sick right before work.”
”Well I- or you as me-ugh this is so confusing- will just tell them that I am busy,” Bruce said. He looked through Clark’s clothes and sneered at the options. “You need a new wardrobe. What do you even wear to work? And what’s with all these graphic tees? Who even listens to the Mighty CrabJoys anymore?”
“Excuse you. I listen to them. They still make good music. And my work clothes are in the closet, but” Clark shakes his head. “I can’t tell them that I am busy with you because…”
”Just spit it out already,” Bruce groaned as he opened the closet. Now these clothes were more up Bruce’s alley. “We need to figure out how to reverse this as soon as possible which means no wasting time on useless thing.”
“You see they already think you and I are dating and so if I say that you are busy with me…they might even get HR involved since you know you own the company and all,” Clark confessed.
Bruce was so stunned that Clark’s phone fell onto the ground with a loud bang.
”Hey don’t drop my phone! I just paid it off!” Clark yelled.
Bruce leaned down and grabbed the phone off of the ground. “What do you mean they think we are dating? Explain.”
Clark placed some clothes on the bathroom countertop to change into, but he hesitated. It’s not like he’s never seen Bruce’s body, I mean he tries hard not to think about it all the time. But, it felt wrong to be seeing his body like this. Though he knew he needed to change.
”They thought I was dating you when they found out I went to the manor twice a week. So I explained that I was babysitting Dick and that seemed to calm down the rumors. But if you-or I mean I were to tell them that I-or I mean you- were busy hanging out with me then they would get to talking.”
The realization that he was going to have to change and use the bathroom and exist as Clark was fully setting in to Bruce. “But I own the company, it should be fine. And first things first, you are NOT allowed to go to the bathroom until we switch. I will call Zantanna and we can get this figured out immediately. If we are lucky we can be back in our old bodies by lunch and you can tell your boss-“
Clark cut him off. “Bruce. Be realistic. I need you to go to work as me, please. I will call a meeting at the Watchtower and see what the others think. But in the meantime I really don’t want to lose my job. Please,” Clark begged. He buttoned up the white dress shirt.
Bruce paused. Clark had never begged him for anything before. His heart fluttered but he chalked it up to some weird Kyrptonian power. “Fine.”
Clark breathed a sigh of relief. “I will meet you there at 8.” He put on the black suit jacket and straightened his tie. “How do you do your hair, do you slick it back?” Clark looked down at the limited hair and skin products on the counter. There was a comb and some gel that Clark reached for without waiting for a response.
”If you’re going to meet me there then wouldn’t that just fuel the rumors as well?” Bruce reasoned. He ran his fingers through Clark’s curly hair trying to make it look poofy but it just kept falling flat. “How do you do your hair?”
”I usually take a shower in the morning and then let it air dry…do not take a shower,” Clark warned.
“Wasn’t dreaming of it,” Bruce huffed. After a few more attempts he gave up. “If you are going to go there anyways can’t you just tell them I am sick or something.”
Clark shook his head even though he knew Bruce couldn’t see it over the phone. “No. We need to try and see if we can reverse it in person first.”
Bruce groaned at the sound logic. He just hated the idea of having to go around in someone else’s body pretending to be them. He did enough pretending already to make people believe in his playboy persona and to keep people from realizing he was an omega.
“Don’t forget to wear the glasses,” Clark added. “And uh…well you see I am an alpha and-“
”I already know that,” Bruce rolled his eyes.
“Yeah well…um you see…walking around Metropolis is a bit intense. I uh-suggest maybe wearing a mask or uh,” Clark thought of how to explain the alpha experience to Bruce.
“I’m gonna take a cab,” Bruce stated. There was no way he was going to take public transportation. He was already having a hard enough time getting around Clark’s normal sized apartment since Clark was anything but a normal sized man. He was very tall and muscular.
Bruce is tall, especially for an omega, but Clark was on another level. Bruce had to duck under every doorway and make sure he didn’t knock anything over. Clark’s apartment wasn’t messy by any means, but it did have a lot of stuff in it.
”That works too,” Clark responded. He was gaining the courage to leave the room and pretend to be Bruce to the rest of the world.
“Fine. I’ll meet you there. Has Dick gone to school yet?” Bruce asked. “And where is the mask? I can’t find it.”
“Uh-“ Clark was cut off by Dick calling for Bruce. “I don’t have a mask.”
Bruce heard Dick’s voice and groaned. He was going to be late to school. But what really made his anger boil over for some reason was the mask. Clark had told him to wear one but he didn’t even have one? Bruce was ready to snap the phone in half. “You don’t even have a mask?! And yet you told me to use one!? And Dick is going to be late for school!” Bruce screamed into the phone.
Clark was taken aback by the sudden burst of anger but realized that Bruce was probably experiencing alpha instincts for the first time. Alphas are often quick to anger and the first to fight. Clark had learned early on how to control this, but this was probably Bruce’s first time experiencing those intense emotions and instincts.
“Calm down. Calm down. I will figure it out. Just take deep breaths,” Clark spoke softly.
Bruce scoffed. “I am not a child.”
”Yes, but you are an alpha and that anger you felt just now was just a part of the instincts,” Clark explained.
Bruce groaned and threw his head back. “This sucks.”
”We’ll figure this out. But first make some food and go to work. I will be there,” Clark said as he ended the call.
Clark took in a sharp breath and opened the door. “Are you ready for school?”
Dick was standing at the bottom of the stairs with all of his stuff ready to go. An angry pout on his face. “We’re gonna be late.”
Clark sighed. “Sorry kiddo, I had to deal with something.”
Dick held his bookbag tightly and turned his head away, pouting. Dick hated being late for school and enjoyed talking with his friends in the cafeteria before it started.
“Here,” Clark grabbed the first set of keys that he saw by the door. “Let’s go.”
---
“Why are you using the GPS?” Dick asked suspiciously.
Clark laughed awkwardly. Of course, Dick was very observant so he would notice if anything was out of the ordinary. “I am a little bit distracted this morning, haha.”
Dick didn’t join in the flat laughter, he just squinted his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Dad never laughs like that.”
Clark froze and almost hit the car in front of him. He slammed on the breaks making both him and Dick fall forward. “Are you okay?” Clark asked as he whipped around to check on Dick who was glaring at him suspiciously.
”Dad is also never late to take me to school,” Dick stated.
”I had to-uh-answer a phone call this morning, remember,” Clark said. He turned his focus back to the road. The traffic near the school was horrendous.
“And dad doesn’t say ‘uh’” Dick copied. “Who are you? Answer me now!” Dick undid his seatbelt and flung himself into the front seat and wrapped his hands around Clark’s neck.
“Hey ah-“ Clark was not used to this fragile human body. Usually, someone trying to choke him wouldn’t feel like anything, but Dick was strong and he wasn’t holding back. “Ok ok ok I’ll tell you the truth just get back to your seat before we crash.”
Dick loosened up but was still too suspicious to completely let go. “What did you do to my dad?!”
Clark tried to shove Dick into the passenger seat, but the boy wouldn’t move and his body was obscuring the road. “Kid, I need you to let go. I can’t see the road.”
”Not until you tell me what you did to my dad!” Dick picked at Clark’s skin trying to pull up a mask like he had seen in Scooby Doo.
“It’s me Clark!” Clark shouted as he nearly rear-ended the car in front of them. “We switched bodies. Bruce is fine. He’s just in my body.”
Dick sat back and let go. He crawled into the passenger seat and eyed Clark wearily. “Say something that only Clark would know.”
”You-uh-“ Clark struggled keeping his focus on the road and on Dick. This is also a good moment to point out that even though Clark had his Driver’s License, he hadn’t driven a car since moving to Metropolis nearly a decade ago. “You told me you were a Metahuman, right?”
Dick crossed his arms and nodded his head. That was for sure something only Clark would know. “So dad is in your body? How did that happen?”
“Do you remember that old lady we met on the hike that gave us the wine? We think there was some magic infused in the wine that made us switch bodies,” Clark explained, his eyes back to being glued on the road.
Dick nodded. “I knew there was something up with her.”
”What?!” Clark whipped his head to Dick. “You’re the one that insisted we take wine in the first place.”
”Yeah because I thought it was suspicious,” Dick explained.
Clark groaned. “You could have told us that.”
”Why did you drink the suspicious wine anyways? The first thing they teach you about stranger danger is not to accept gifts.” In Dick’s mind, he wanted them to accept the wine so that the suspicious old lady wouldn’t try to give it to anyone else. Granted, he could have explained that, but he thought it was obvious that there was something off about her.
“I-that-well…” Clark trailed on.
The truth was, after the hike he was depressed thinking about how he has a son that doesn’t even know he’s his. And all of the moments in Dick’s childhood that he missed and will never be able to relive. No baby pictures that he can look back on or a video of his first words. Nothing. And on top of that, he can’t vent to anyone about this.
Clark knew that it was just medicinal wine and it would definitely never make him drunk, but he hoped it would at least take his mind off of things.
“I was well sometimes when adults are sad they drink-“ Clark was cut off by Dick nearly standing up in the passenger seat. Clark reflexively put out a hand to keep the kid from falling forward and hitting his head on the dashboard when the car came to a stop in front of Gotham Academy.
”What do you have to be sad about? You’re Superman! Did dad reject you again?” Dick asked.
Clark smiled though his jaw twitched. There was so much that Dick didn’t know.
”It was nothing like that, it's uh oh look we are here,” Clark said as he unbuckled himself and stepped out of the car. He opened up the passenger door, but Dick wasn’t there.
”Kids are not supposed to be in the front seat,” Dick whispered. He had crawled back into his booster seat in the back.
“Right…” Clark mumbled as he opened up the back door. Dick ran up and hugged him which startled him.
”Dad always gives me a kiss on the forehead before I go inside,” Dick whispered.
Clark leaned down and tentatively kissed Dick on the forehead. “Have a good day at school, kid.”
Dick smiled and ran off, but turned around to wave. “Stop drinking wine when you are sad!” Dick yelled.
Clark's jaw nearly fell to the floor. All the parents and kids turned to stare at him. The parents grabbed their kids and shielded them from Clark. He waved and tried to explain that Dick was lying, but no one was listening to him. He then grumbled and got back into the car. Bruce was definitely going to be pissed when the newspaper publishes a story on Bruce being an alcoholic.
---
For Bruce, getting to the Daily Planet was a lot easier said than done. Getting out of Clark’s small apartment was easier said than done. The second he opened the front door, he was bombarded by so many pheromones he felt nauseous.
How did he deal with this everyday? Bruce wondered. Since Bruce was an enigma, he was stuck somewhere in-between omega and alpha. His reproductive organs were that of an omega but his body was that of an alpha.
But luckily for him, he wasn’t as affected by pheromones like omegas or alphas were. Unless he was nearing a heat, but for the most part he could go about an entire day without being bothered by any pheromones. He still smelled them, but they didn’t make him feel one way or another.
Clark was not like that at all. With his heightened senses he could smell pheromones from blocks away and depending on what the pheromones were, they also affected him physically and mentally.
Bruce tried once again to leave the apartment, but the smell of an omega in distress hit him so hard he had to use all of his willpower to not go and find the omega. He shut the door and heaved in the mostly fresh air of Clark’s apartment.
He contemplated not even going. If Clark got fired then he could just find him a new job maybe at the Gotham Gazette or something. But the alpha was right that they needed to see if they could reverse the curse in person first.
Bruce still had some time before he needed to leave for work, so he decided to have a pheromone mask delivered to him. While he waited, he went through Clark’s apartment, judging everything he saw.
Clark’s fridge was filled with mostly just breakfast food with a few left overs and on the fridge itself, were lots of pictures of Clark and his friends Lois and Jimmy. Bruce sneered.
Lois had interviewed Bruce at a gala before. A good reporter. But seeing her hugging Clark and smiling made Bruce feel sick. Bruce remembered her as a smart and very headstrong woman, and it only makes sense that she would be friends with someone like Clark.
A sticky note on the fridge read: To my most amazing friend Clark. Don’t eat this all in one sitting - Lois . Bruce grabbed the note and ripped it up into shreds. As if coming out of a haze, Bruce realized what he was doing only after the note was torn into tiny pieces on the vinyl wood floor of Clark’s apartment.
Bruce groaned. Why was he acting this way over the man who infuriated him everyday? The man who constantly fought with him at every turn and kept pointing out any failure in parenting that he saw.
Clark wasn’t a villain, so Bruce couldn’t say he hated him the most, but he did not like the guy. He was like a thorn in his side. If it wasn’t for that omega, then Bruce would have never gotten pregnant and then would have never had to have made the hardest decision of his life of giving Dick up for adoption.
And if it wasn’t for the fact that Clark is Superman, Bruce could have paid the alpha off or made him disappear. Bruce was more than capable of doing both. He had an exorbitant amount of money saved away for whenever the alpha came knocking, but instead of asking for money or something like that, Clark only asked for visitation rights.
Of course, he had a kid with the one alpha that didn’t care about money or status. And the one alpha that wasn’t even from Earth.
Bruce groaned. He needed to find a way to switch their bodies back to normal as soon as possible.
---
Bruce opened the door to the Daily Planet with a little too much force and broke off the handle. He looked around quickly to see if anyone noticed before tossing the broken handle to the side. Once someone left, Bruce slipped in and looked around the large office.
He gulped and tightened his tie. He strode up to the receptionist.
“Good morning Clark,” she said with a smile.
”The door handle broke,” Bruce stated. “Someone should probably fix that.”
“Oh not again,” she sighed while getting up from her seat and grabbing a phone. “Thank you for letting me know. You’re always so considerate.”
Bruce narrowed his eyes and glared at her. She was being way too nice for Bruce’s liking. A low rumbling sounded from his chest as the urge to fight her took over Bruce’s senses. He hated how nice everyone was to Clark.
The sound of distant laughter brought him out of his murderous thoughts.
“Oh yes. Mr. Wayne decided to stop by,” she explained as Bruce looked for the source of the sound.
Bruce recognized that sound. It was Cat Grant. A gossip columnist who was always trying to get an interview with him. Bruce groaned.
”Oh darling, you don’t have to be so formal.” Cat reached an arm around Bruce’s shoulders, well Clark’s shoulders.
Now that really made Bruce’s blood boil. He was upset that she was acting like that to his body and he definitely wasn’t jealous No. These feelings and urges coming from his alpha hind brain was definitely not possessiveness and jealousy.
He tore up the note from Lois because it was an eyesore. He growled at the receptionist because she was overstepping her bounds by being too nice…to Clark.
“Oh Clark,” Clark called as he saw himself walk into the office. Clark was looking for every excuse to get away from Cat. Though he liked her as a coworker, he wasn’t too fond of her trying to flirt with him.
The haze of anger cleared from Bruce’s mind when he heard his own voice. Like a breath of fresh air, he felt like he could breathe again. All those irrational thoughts were tossed to the wayside.
”C-Bruce,” Bruce said in acknowledgement. He tried to keep a calm demeanor, but every nerve in his body was standing on end. Was this how Clark felt every time they met?
“Oh Clarky, you finally came by. Also what's with the mask dude. Not feeling well or what,” Jimmy asked.
Lois came over to Bruce’s side. “Are you feeling ok?” She asked, very worried.
Bruce ignored her. But for good reason. If he paid any attention to her then he would have to stop himself from fighting her for acting this way to Clark…or rather himself.
“I’m fine. Air quality is just bad.” Bruce coughed to send his point home. The reporters all looked at each other suspiciously, but no one said anything.
“Good for you to finally show up, Clark. For a second I was worried I would have to fire you,” Perry stated, his breakfast cigar in hand.
Bruce rolled his eyes and ignored Perry. Perry might be Clark’s boss, but he wasn’t his boss. And Bruce had way more pressing matters to attend to. Like how to switch their bodies back.
Clark’s eyes darted between Perry and himself-Bruce. A frown grew on Perry’s face from the lack of response from Bruce. Clark motioned for Bruce to say something.
Bruce nodded to Clark. “Whatever,” he responded.
Clark’s jaw dropped. How could Bruce act that way to his boss? “I am sure he doesn’t mean it-uh Mr. White. Isn’t that right Clark?”
All eyes turned to Clark. He was in a room filled with reporters who had a heightened ability to tell when something was up. And Bruce Wayne just did something so out of character that even Cat was wondering if this was actually the billionaire playboy that she wrote about constantly.
“Sorry,” Bruce responded in a way too sassy tone.
Clark gasped and grabbed Bruce by the shoulder. “I apologize for him Mr. White. He seems to not be feeling well. I will uh- escort him to the break room.”
Perry nodded slowly. He was thinking what everyone else was thinking, that something suspicious was going on. But as long as HR didn’t need to get involved, he wasn’t paid enough to care what his employees were doing in their free time. Or why the billionaire that owned the company was acting like some sheepish teenager at their first job.
”Hey,” Bruce protested as Clark pushed him along toward the break room. “I can walk on my own.”
Clark shushed him.
The reporters watched in disbelief as the two men walked off. Millions of questions swirling around their heads.
“Do you know what a skinwalker is?” Jimmy pondered aloud as he watched Bruce and Clark walk off together. If it wasn’t for how weird Bruce was acting, he would be guessing the two guys were about to hook up. But there was something supernatural going on and he just knew it.
”I already told you Jimmy, we are not publishing any of your conspiracy theories,” Perry stated. “Get back to work.”
Jimmy and the others groaned as they made their way back to their desks.
Once they made it to the small break room, Clark shut the door and pinned Bruce against it. “You’re gonna get me fired!” Clark shouted.
”I can just get you a job at the Gotham Gazette,” Bruce said while evading Clark’s eye contact. Their close proximity was making the alpha side to Clark’s body go crazy. His alpha fangs ached and images of him biting down into his own scent gland filled his mind. Being an alpha was terrible. Bruce ran his tongue over the fangs, hoping to calm the ache.
”I don’t want a different job, I want this one,” Clark nearly growled.
For a split second, Bruce could smell the angry omega pheromones coming from Clark and it made his head spin. His hind brain went from begging him to claim Clark to begging him to help Clark and to make the omega happy.
”Ugh,” Bruce groaned and with his super strength pushed Clark back. But he wasn’t used to having powers and almost threw him against the far wall.
Clark winced and clutched his side where the stitches were. “You need to be more careful.”
Bruce remembered that his body had a newly stitched up wound and felt bad for shoving Clark as hard as he did. Though he was too stubborn to show his remorse.
“So what is your great idea to switch our bodies back?” Bruce asked.
Clark paused a flush spreading over his face, or rather Bruce’s face. “I couldn’t find much online except for fairytales. So I thought we should rule out one method first.”
”Spit it out.”
”I think we should kiss,” Clark stated. Every story he read about people switching bodies, they were able to switch back with a kiss. So it wasn't poor logic to assume the same thing could happen in their situation.
“I am not going to kiss myself. Ew gross,” Bruce stuck out his tongue to emphasis just how gross that sounded. But truth be told, his heart rate sped up the second he imagined himself kissing Clark. Again, he chalked it up to another side effect of being in the body of an alpha. With how many urges and desires that must be running through Clark’s brain every second, Bruce wondered how he was able to stay sane.
”We have to at least rule it out as a possibility. If it doesn’t work then I will let the Justice League know what happened and maybe they will know how to reverse it. But this is our best bet,” Clark reasoned.
It was sound logic, and Bruce was having a harder time ignoring how much he wanted to kiss Clark. Though in his mind, he saw it as them in their original bodies. Just like that first and only night they spent together.
“Fine. Just one kiss. That’s it. And if it doesn’t work then you are to go to the Watchtower and assemble every one immediately," Bruce stated.
Clark breathed a sigh of relief. He thought it was going to be much harder to convince Bruce of this option. “I will. Don’t worry.”
”Ok. Fine. Then…” Bruce swallowed dryly.
The two men slowly walked to each other. And maybe he was delirious from all the pheromones, but he imagined it was Clark walking to him, instead of his own body. “Just get it over with.”
Bruce closed his eyes.
Clark took in a sharp breath and snaked his hand around his own head and leaned up to kiss Bruce. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but the two men waited hoping that something would happen. But nothing did.
”Maybe we should try again-“ Clark is cut off by Bruce closing the distance and kissing him with an intensity that he wasn’t expecting, but he didn’t dislike. Actually, he liked it a lot. A little too much. He closed his eyes and imagined they were back in their original bodies. Bruce took the lead, biting Clark’s lip to let his tongue in.
They broke free.
Chests heaving.
Pupils dilated.
And yet nothing happened.
---
Bonus content:
(Just like in Secret Garden, they switch bodies every time it rains. They are also back in their original bodies here)
”He’s in a coma,” the nurse stated. Clark heard that Bruce had been hurt after a fight with the Scarecrow, but he wasn’t expecting this.
”Bruce!” Clark shouted as he grabbed Bruce’s limp hand.
The nurse took in a sharp breath and shook her head sadly. “He can’t hear you.”
Clark knew that. He knew what being in a coma meant. But he still had to try. He still had to try to wake up Bruce. He still held out a slight glimmer of hope that Bruce would wake up once he knew that Clark was there.
Tears pooled up at the edge of Clark’s eyes. The soft trickle soon became a waterfall.
“Let’s give him some space,” Alfred whispered to Dick. Dick’s face was red and puffy from crying, but he nodded.
Once everyone was out of the hospital room, Clark held Bruce’s lifeless hand up to his mouth and peppered it with kisses. “You can’t die on me Bruce. You can’t. Not like this…not like this.”
Clark held the hand up to his forehead and bowed his head. Tears stained the white hospital sheets. Like a star lighting up an endless darkness, Clark had an idea. An idea so crazy, he couldn’t tell anyone.
But he was going to need to be fast. Before the nurses could stop him. He quickly took out Bruce’s IV and everything else he was hooked up to. Alarms went off, telling Clark he had mere seconds to escape.
He held Bruce’s limp body hard against his chest and cradled his head. He opened the window and flew out just as the nurses rushed back into the room.
With tears still streaming down his face, he flew to Metropolis. He had seen reports earlier in the day that it was raining on the coast. The idea that Bruce was suffering all of this pain alone broke him.
He descended to the beach and set Bruce down on the sand next to him. Clark looked up at the storm clouds, but it took a couple minutes for the rain to fall. His phone constantly rang, presumably Alfred trying to get ahold of him. But Clark didn’t care. All he wanted was to make sure Bruce didn’t have to be in pain anymore.
Clark smiled as the first raindrop hit his skin. He fell backward into the sand as his soul was pulled from his body and switched with Bruce’s.
Bruce took a deep breath of air as he woke up in Clark’s body. The last thing he remembered was choking on fear gas and collapsing as he watched a hallucination of Dick dying in the accident that killed his parents.
Bruce’s eyebrows stitched together and he looked around at the beach. He turned and saw his own body, limp and lifeless next to him. Panic rose in Bruce. “Clark!” Bruce shouted.
He pushed the body, but there was no response. “You’re a damn idiot.”
Bruce felt for a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt something faint. Clark’s phone rang again and Bruce grabbed it out of his pocket. Alfred. Bruce sighed. His eyes turned glassy.
Bruce accepted the call. “We switched bodies. Get an ambulance down here stat. I am not going to let this idiot die.”
---
I'm suuuuuper sick right now so some of this might not make sense. I wrote the first half not sick at all and the second half very sick and delirious so they might not line up well. This was supposed to be a short little oneshot but I just kept writing and now it's like the longest chapter by far loll
I have a few essays to write and I need to update my other SuperBat fic so once those are done I will go back to this! Hopefully, it won't take too long. I also need to find a job…I wish we had universal basic income so I could spend all my time writing SuperBat fics :(
Tag list: @musician-of-the-stars , @hard-core-yaoi , @lostmonsterposts
Let me know if you want to me added or removed from the tag list!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | AO3 |
TW: This chapter includes a scene of Bruce getting drunk because of a pollen bomb made by Poison Ivy. But for people who might be sensitive to this, I would like you to know beforehand that nothing nonconsensual or otherwise suggestive happens.
---
Thank you everyone for your kind words! If things get worse I will give updates in the end of chapter notes since I am not sure how much information gets out. I will continue to update this fic and my other ongoing SuperBat fic regularly. Hopefully it doesn't get to the point where I.D. verification is needed to use the internet.
I have also decided this fic will follow the course of a regular soap opera. Season 1 will focus on Dicks childhood all the way up to them meeting Jason. Once we get closer to Season 2 I will have a poll on which direction to go. I have a really funny idea, but I feel like some people will be annoyed by it.
One last thing, we are almost to 500 kudos on AO3! This is the most popular fic i've ever written and getting to nearly 500 kudos at only 10k words is amazing. I'm thinking of doing a special mini chapter to celebrate :) Consider it a filler episode lol
Without further ado, here is Episode 4 of the SuperBat Soap Opera:
---
Clark’s shoes clacked against the grand staircase in the Wayne manor. This was the closest he has come to telling Dick the truth. But right when the words were going to come out of his mouth, he paused.
In a weird twisted way, Clark could agree that Bruce is right in wanting to protect Dick. Learning the truth would bring on lots of complications and difficult conversations. Though, it was only inevitable for Dick to find out eventually especially if his powers are steadily growing. But it might be easier explaining the truth to him once he has recovered from the death of his adoptive parents.
A nagging feeling ate at Clark’s heart as he realized just how deep he was entangled in the web of lies that Bruce had spun. Like a bug caught in the spider’s clutches.
”Oh Alfred,” Clark said as he noticed the butler gently releasing air from the balloons lining the stairway gently so as to not make a sound.
“Ah Mr. Kent. I hope Master Richard went to sleep well,” Alfred said.
”Yes…about that…where is Bruce?” Clark asked.
Alfred sighed and nodded toward the garden. Though the sun had already set, Bruce was still out there cleaning up. The area for the parents had poles with hanging string lights and white standing tables.
Bruce was smiling and laughing with the caterer, his body illuminated in soft light. In a different context, Clark would have found the supposed alpha completely enchanting like this. The charismatic smile that convinced Clark to go against his morals and be with the billionaire in the first place. And yet, almost 10 years later and Bruce has not once smiled at him like that again.
“Bruce,” Clark spoke. Bruce tensed, and thanked the caterer before turning around to greet his guest.
”I hope Dick didn't give you any trouble,” Bruce said with a tight smile. He gestured for Clark to follow him away from the prying eyes of the people who helped put on the birthday.
Once they were alone in the shadow of a large tree and illuminated only by the light of the moon, Clark opened his mouth to speak…but nothing came out. Complaining to Bruce once again about this elaborate facade would only lead to them arguing again. And how was he to explain that his son wants them to get married?
“That was a great party. I could see you put a lot of attention into it,” Clark said. He glanced up at the full moon and sighed.
In moments like this, Clark remembered just how far away he was from his home. Not unlike Dick, Clark had his own adoptive parents that he thought were his biological ones for quite some time. When he was old enough, Ma and Pa showed him the message his Kryptonian parents left him and that was when he learned that he was brought to Earth to save and protect the people. He was sad for a moment, but he could tell that he was a lot different from his parents.
He just hoped that when Dick learns the truth, he would…eventually understand why they had to keep lying. Though the world had grown and changed a lot compared to what life was like just a couple hundred years ago, omegas are still sometimes looked down upon. Someone with as much money and influence as Bruce Wayne would be fine, but probably the only reason he could amass that much wealth and prestige in the first place was because he was seen as an alpha.
Even though both alphas and omegas were seen as people who were slaves to their own desires, alpha were praised while omegas were subjugated. It didn't always used to be this way, some cultures praised omegas in their ability to have so many children and a lot of ancient cultures viewed omegas in the same way they viewed gods. But when food became scarce, alphas became the new gods with their strength and stamina. And omegas became a means to an end. A possession that would ensure your legacy.
“Is that all you came to say to me? Of course I would do anything for my child,” Bruce said sternly.
“Do you ever wonder what his first birthday was like? Or his first steps or-” Clark is cut off by a large hand gripping his collar.
“Watch. Your. Mouth. You have no idea what I go through,” Bruce spat, his small omega fangs extended.
Clark raised his arms in surrender. Bruce was an anomaly, he had the body of an alpha (for the most part) and yet the designation of an omega. Clark can only imagine how confusing that must have been for Bruce.
“OK don't worry I was just thinking out loud. I won't say that again,” Clark responded. He had never seen Bruce this worked up before. He could even smell a twinge of angry omega pheromones. It instinctively made his stomach drop and his hind brain scream at him to make the omega happy. Maybe it was because he was an alien, but Clark had a much harder time ignoring his hind brain.
Unlike on Earth, Krypton was an omega centric society and his inner alpha definitely reflected that. Even just walking down the busy streets of Metropolis, if he so much as smelled an omega in distress he had to help. It often led to him being late for work, but he couldn't help it.
Bruce released his grip and huffed. But Clark couldn't help but notice the glassy glare in Bruce’s eyes. Was he about to cry?
“Do you feel better now?” Clark asked, genuinely concerned.
Bruce huffed and crossed his arms. “Don't look at me like that. It makes me sick.”
Clark sighed. A short silence enveloped them until Clark broke it. “Can I go back to ‘babysitting’ again?”
“Do as you please,” is all Bruce said before walking off in a huff, but once someone else crossed his path, Bruce smiled.
It bothered Clark. He knew why Bruce didn't like him, that much was obvious, but he hated how Bruce only looked at him with a scowl or annoyance. Like his every existence made the omega sick.
Maybe it was jealousy or maybe envy, but Clark wished that Bruce would smile at him like that again.
After experiencing the extent of Bruce's disdain firsthand, Clark gave up any hope of being in a relationship with the man. He shoved all of those feelings and the memory of their one night together down into the deepest recesses of his mind. But how nice would it be to have someone he once loved, the mother of his child, smile at him with enough warmth to make his body think he was standing in the presence of the sun?
His knuckles were white as his fists clenched painfully closed.
---
A couple weeks had passed by without any issue. Clark continued to juggle his obligations with Dick and his obligations as a reporter and as Superman.
Bruce wanted to let Dick have a whole week to rest for his birthday, but the kid was adamant that he wanted to go back on patrol as soon as possible. Eventually, Bruce relented and allowed Dick to follow him as he tracked down a new villain that called herself Poison Ivy.
“Your disdain for your own nature disturbs me,” Ivy scowled. Vines curled up her legs and arms.
As if out of nowhere, she appeared only a week prior. She had the ability to talk to and control plants.
“You're just like Layla from SkyHigh!” Dick shouted with enthusiasm.
“Robin,” Bruce chastised. He turned back to Ivy. “Why are you doing this?”
Poison Ivy sneered, though she jumped down from her ledge and walked closer to the bat. Everywhere she stepped flowers grew and bloomed in-between the cement blocks.
Bruce stood still as she made her way toward him. He wasn't sure what to make of this new villain. She stole a few precious jewels and then turned around to sell them on the black market. The only people that have been hunted were the guards that tried to stop her, and even then they were left unconscious yet otherwise unharmed.
“I know what you are, Bat,” she reached a hand up to his chin, her long nails scraping against his stumble. “And you should know as much as I do the pain a mother feels when someone hurts her child.”
Bruce steeled himself, refusing to let her get a rise out of him. A tiny stem twisted around her finger and out bloomed a beautiful pink flower.
“All I wish is to protect my children. I am their mother,” she smiles lovingly at the flower. “And yet,” a darkness wafts over her. “Humans hurt my children. Is it not fair for me to get revenge? How would you feel if someone hurt your child?”
How would Bruce feel? He would be out for blood, though at the last moment his morals would stop him from enacting any fatal harm.
“I don't know what you mean.”
She searched his eyes yet all she saw was a hardened stare. “My children speak to me. They whisper to me many tales and stories. And the thing about plants is, they have no reason to lie. I know who you are.”
Bruce froze. Dick let out a gasp.
“I know what you are,” she whispered. “I know what you pretend to be. My only request is that you leave me to get my revenge.”
“If your revenge includes hurting people, then you will not see the last of me,” Bruce said firmly.
“Then let me leave you with a parting gift,” she chuckled as she reached a hand into her pocket and pulled out a ball looking thing. She threw it at Bruce and he quickly dodged it, but it exploded into a cloud of smoke.
By the time the smoke dissipated, Ivy was gone and Dick was rushing to his side.
“B!” Dick shouted. Bruce coughed and fanned his face. “Are you okay? What was that?”
“Im not sure,” Bruce coughed. “But I'm fine, which way did she go?”
“Are you sure you're ok?” Dick asked desperately. “She went that way,” Dick pointed. “But I think we should go back to the manor. Alfred will know what to do.”
“No I’m-” Bruce tried to walk but he stumbled. A raging headache quickly formed behind his eyes and he felt nauseous. “Do you remember where the Batmobile is?”
Dick nodded.
“Go and call Alfred, or put in the coordinates of the manor and have the Batmobile take you back.” The biggest worry in Bruce's mind was for him to be incapacitated and then for something to happen to Dick in the process.
“No! I don't want to leave you!”
“Robin! Go to the Batmobile. That is an order,” Bruce groaned as he gripped the side of a brick building and held his head. There was no way he was going to make it to the Batmobile at this rate. His mind was also becoming increasingly jumbled and hard to reach like some far off entity.
“But-” Dick looked around frantically. With his super strength, he could possibly help lift up Bruce and walk him to the Batmobile, but that would mean having to admit that he was a metahuman.
Dick pouted and ran off to the Batmobile. Once he got there he put in the coordinates to the manor and was about to press on Alfred’s name to call him but hesitated. There was someone else that he knew could help. Someone who could get there quickly and was strong enough to pick up Bruce and take him back to the manor.
Dick saw Clark’s number in passing once and instantly memorized it in case he would ever need it. It seemed like now was one of those times.
---
Clark set down his plate of pasta that Lois had offered to make them. Before he found out about his long lost child, Clark and Lois would meet up regularly after work and hang out in her apartment. She was the first person in Metropolis that he trusted enough to reveal his identity. She was also his first friend in the new city.
He first came to Metropolis straight out of college and was lucky enough to land his dream job as a journalist for the Daily Planet. Lois was kind enough to show him around and help him get situated in the big city. Before moving there, the largest city that Clark had been in was his college town and even that is not considered big by any means.
“So,” Lois said in-between bites of food. “Are you really not dating Bruce Wayne?”
Clark chuckled. “I am not ‘dating’ Bruce Wayne. Like I said, I visit him twice a week for his kid.”
“Well it definitely put a hault to the rumors that you were dating yourself. You know,” she took another bite. “You really need to be careful or people will start being suspicious.”
“Oh come on Lois, I'm sure itll be fine. As long as I have the glasses on no one can tell that I am Superman.” He leaned back in his chair and spread his arms out. “You know I've really missed these dinners.”
Lois kept her head down and focused on her plate as to not show the blush that was creeping onto her face. “Oh yeah? Me too. It's been so long since we've been able to hang out like this.”
“I know,” Clark sighs. “I've just been so busy these days. Definitely a much needed break.”
Lois cleared her thought and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You know what you said earlier about preferences-”
Clarks phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. When he saw the caller ID he immediately jumped up, his chair falling down behind him. “Hello? Is everyone alright? What happened?”
“Who is it?” Lois asked but Clark didnt seem to hear her. She could hear what sounded like a voice on the other end but she couldn't make out what they were saying.
“I'll be there as soon as I can.” Clark ended the call and began to take off his civilian clothes to reveal the Superman suit that he was wearing underneath. “Sorry Lois, I gotta go.”
Lois set down her plate. “Yeah, no I get it. Duty calls. Is everyone ok?”
“I'm not sure. Seems to be poisoned by some sort of gas. But I'll see you tomorrow ok?” Once out of his civilian clothes, Clark opened up her window and stood on the windowsill for a moment before taking off.
“Yeah…see you tomorrow,” she said to herself as she gathered their plates.
---
Clark nearly broke the sound barrier, determined to get to Bruce and Dick as fast as possible. Every different possible scenario and crime scene invaded his mind. Dick wasn't very clear on what happened, just that there was some sort of gas or smoke cloud and Bruce is hurt.
The mere idea of Bruce being hurt made Clark growl something deep and animalistic. Even though he had never mated with Bruce by biting his scent gland, his body instinctively recognizes the omega as someone he needs to protect at all costs. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and it took all of his self control to keep his alpha fangs from descending.
He made it to the Batmobile in record time. Dick rushed over to him with a frantic and desperate expression. “Cl-Superman!” Dick shouted as he ran over to hug Clark.
“What happened,” Clark looks around frantically. “Where's Bruce?”
“He's a block that way,” Dick pointed. “I dont know what's wrong” Tears streamed down Dick’s face as his chest heaved.
Clark bent down and rubbed Dick’s back as he cried. “Will he be ok?”
Clark wasn't sure, but what he was sure about is Bruce's power of will. “I'm sure he will be fine. Can the batmobile take you to the manor?”
Dick nodded, his voice caught in his throat.
“I need you to stay in the car and if anyone comes have the car take you straight to the manor ok?”
“B-But,” Dick hiccuped.
Clark cooed, trying to calm the child down. “You can do that, right Big Wing?”
Dick’s bottom lip trembled, but he nodded. He needed to be brave. He wipped away his tears and made his way toward the car. “But how will you find him without me?”
“I can hear his heart beat,” Clark said. He focused in on the familiar rhythm and the incredibly faint scen of Bruce's pheromones.
Once Dick was safely in the Batmobile, Clark flew over to where he knew Bruce was. The man was slumped against a brick building, his eyes closed.
Luckily, Clark knew for a fact that Bruce was alive from the roaring sound of his heartbeat, but he still needed to assess if the man had any injuries. Clark used his xray vision and didn't see any fractures or broken bones or even swelling.
“Batman,” Clark shook Bruce. Bruce's eyes opened slowly and his gaze was unfocused.
“Ugh,” Bruce keeled forward, a wave of nausea hitting him. “I told the kid to get Alfred.”
“Well he got me instead. Does it hurt anywhere?” Clark grabbed Bruce’s face and opened his eyes lids and his jaw, checking for any injuries.
“Ssstop thaat,” Bruce slurred but gave no resistance.
Clark's brows furrowed. “Are you drunk?”
“Noo Immm not drunk. I'm just…” Bruce trailed off.
Clark stood back. He had seen many videos of Bruce drunk at galas and parties. His reputation proceedes him. And yet this was completely different from everything Clark had seen before.
Bruce had all the signs of being drunk, but Clark was expecting something…crazier. Screaming, dancing, flirting, all the things Bruce usually does when he drinks too much.
“Here, I'm going to take you back to the Batmobile.” Clark put his hands under Bruce’s armpits and lifted him up. Which was not a good idea. The sudden movement made Bruce gag.
“Hey hey you're ok,” Clark said as he steadied the man. Bruce swayed from side to side and when Clark let go, almost fell backwards. “Ok, I'm going to hold you okay? Can you walk?”
“Of course I can walk,” Bruce huffed but immediatly tripped over his own two feet and Clark had to catch him again.
“Slow steps. I've got you.” Clark positioned Bruce in front of him with the man's back against his chest so that if he fell backwards again he wouldn't hit the ground. But the close proximity made Bruce freeze.
Bruce slowly turned his head and with unfocused eyes stared up at Clark. A wide dumb smile stretched across Bruce's lips. He leaned his head back against Clark’s chest. “You smell nice.”
In all of the haste, Clark had forgotten to control his pheromones. The comment made the kryptonian nearly jump out of his skin. “Thanks…”
Bruce's expression turned cold. “Smells like someone I know-”
“Its me Clark-”
“I hate that prick. Heee,” Bruce struggled on keeping his thoughts coherent. It felt like he was running after a balloon that was quickly floating away. “Always argues.”
Clark's mouth twitched and he stammered. “That's not…” He thought back to all of his conversations with Bruce and realized most of them did in fact end in arguing. “Maybe he means well.”
Bruce shook his head. Though he could barely hold onto a single cohesive thought, he still knew that he didn't like Clark. But the pheromones coming from this alpha made him feel safe. Bruce extended his neck, which if he wasnt wearing a suit that covered most of his body, would show Clark his unmarked scent gland.
Clark blinked. For a second he thought he imagined it, but when he looked down again it was very clear that Bruce was trying to show him his neck. His hind brain itched, but he ignored it. No matter what his instincts told him, he was not going to let anything happen to Bruce in this state, by him or anyone else.
Though Bruce was too distracted by the delicious scent to think rationally. And the intoxicat wasn't helping. He whirled around and wrapped his arms around Clark's neck while resting his face in the crook of his neck. The sudden movement made his head spin eliciting an annoyed “ow” from the man.
Clark sighed. As much as he wanted to enjoy this, he knew this wasn't real. This was just Bruce's body reacting instinctively to the scent of a strong alpha. And that broke any sort of illusion he could still have with what was going on.
He wondered, if things were different, would he be able to hold Bruce like this everyday and have it be genuine. Maybe in another timeline they were lovers, but here they might as well be enemies.
“I'm going to pick you up and get us to the Batmobile quickly, ok?” Clark asked.
Bruce nodded.
“Batmobile…” Bruce repeated, trying to place the word. “I'm Batman,” Bruce stated.
Clark picked Bruce up bridal style and walked with haste back to the car. “That you are.”
“And you're Superman.”
“I am.”
They rounded the corner. Dick's head perked up when he saw the two heroes.
Bruce nuzzled his face into the crook of Clark's neck. “I hate you.”
Clark sighed with a smile. “I know.”
---
Link to a funny video of me writing the last chapter while on vacation
---
The only barriers that divide us are the ones that we build ♡
People who I think want to read part 4, there is no official tag list yet so if you want to be added or want to stop being tagged let me know!: @lostmonsterposts , @hard-core-yaoi
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | AO3 |
Tw: none
—-
“Are you or are you not dating Bruce Wayne? I just need to know,” Perry asked.
“Wha wha what no me? Dating Bruce Wayne? That's completely,” Clark looked around and realized all of his colleagues had gathered and were watching him diligently. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Clark asked Lois.
“Oh no reason…just answer the question,” Jimmy said with a smile.
“Answer the question? I already did! I am not dating him!” Clark exclaimed.
“Well if you are dating him now or in the future I would like to point out that it is a conflict of interest since he does own this company,” Perry noted.
“I am not dating him, how many times do I have to tell you guys?” Clark was telling the truth, he wasn't dating Bruce. Though the reality was arguably much worse than dating. If things came to light he would have to admit that he slept with a client and fathered a child with them. And that was completely out of the question.
“Damn it,” Jimmy cursed.
Perry laughed and held out his hand to Jimmy. “That’ll be 20 bucks.”
Jimmy, annoyed, pulled out his wallet and handed their boss a 20 dollar bill. Clark was astonished. They had bet on whether or not he was dating Bruce.
”See I told you Mr. Goody Two Shoes over here wouldn’t date him,” Perry laughed as he pocketed the 20 and took a drag of his cigar.
“You guys were betting on this?” Lois asked, surprised. Clark was thankful there was at least someone that understood how crazy that was.
Jimmy leaned back in his desk chair and crossed his arms. “Personally, I thought you were dating Superman since you're always getting exclusive interviews with him.”
Clark knew he shouldn’t ask, but he was curious. “Then what made you think I was dating Bruce Wayne?”
Jimmy smirked and swiveled back around to his desk. “I was sure you were dating someone. You used to never care if you were called in on a day off because of breaking news. But then all of a sudden you were stern about needing two days off a week. So I did some digging and boom.” Jimmy pulled up a picture of Clark’s phone as he was typing in the address to the Wayne manor to request an Uber. “I took this a couple weeks ago.”
Clark inwardly groaned though his expression remained the same. Of course the second he lets his guard down something like this happens. He ran through all the different excuses that he could make to explain why he was going to the Wayne manor so often.
“Jimmy! That’s highly inappropriate! You can’t just go around snooping into our lives like that,” Lois exclaimed.
Jimmy shrugged and smirked. “Hey, I know we were all thinking it.”
Clark cleared his throat. “Lois is right Jimmy, you shouldn’t go around snooping into our lives.”
Perry looked long and hard at the picture that Jimmy took. It was grainy, but you could make out the address well enough. But one picture wasn’t proof that anything was going on. If it was true that Clark was dating Bruce Wayne then they would have an HR nightmare on their hands and as much as Perry thought the whole thing was funny, he didn’t want to lose one of his best reporters.
“So you made the bet with me knowing you had evidence to support your claim,” Perry asked while raising an eyebrow.
”Haha…” Jimmy laughed awkwardly. “About that…it was just an assumption.”
”Well,” Clark cleared his throat again. “Since it will clear the air, I will tell you all the truth.”
They all leaned in expectedly. Jimmy's chair scraped on the ground as he quickly moved closer to Clark.
“I have a second job. Bruce was looking for a babysitter for his ward and I applied for the position. He has meetings twice a week, so I go over on those days to babysit. I didn’t think it important to mention.”
”Ugghhh,” Jimmy threw his arms up and went back to his desk. “How boring! It would have been so much more interesting if you were dating that alpha. Though, you seem more of a traditionalist to me.”
No matter how many times Clark tried to prove his innocence, he kept catching strays. “Me? A traditionalist? No I uh…” Clark had talked himself into a corner and the only way out is to admit that he prefers all second genders. “I have no preference. Alpha, omega, beta. They are all the same.”
Even Lois was surprised by this. Clark had come from the middle-of-nowhere Kansas and usually people out in places like that were very traditionalist and adamant that an alpha can only be with an omega and vice versa. Even though they were close friends, she had never personally asked him about his preferences. Though, as a beta, it did make her heart flutter a little bit hearing that he liked betas.
It was rare for an alpha to want to be with a beta, and even if they did, the beta would usually constantly be compared and criticized for not being an omega. She knew Clark was probably different, but she never had the guts to ask. Asking would be the equivalent of admitting that she had a crush on him and wanted to know if he would even hypothetically reciprocate.
All of a sudden, Perry got a notification. He quickly pulled out his phone. “Breaking news, some sort of acid creature is currently corroding buildings in the city center.”
They stopped their conversation and quickly went to the stations with Clark offering to go out onto the scene.
—-
Just as Bruce requested, Clark hadn’t gone back to the manor until the day of Dick’s birthday party. The spring air had a slight breeze to it as Clark walked up the heavily decorated steps of the Wayne manor.
Bruce had gone all out for Dick’s birthday. Balloon arches, decorations, flowers, a bouncy castle and table filled with so many nerf guns that Bruce could start the first nerf only militia.
Clark gulped and gripped the gift box he brought him. This was the first birthday that he was going to be able to spend with his child. But at the same time, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy it to the fullest since his child is oblivious to the truth.
Clark imagined all the birthdays and moments he must have missed. First words. First steps. First birthday. First day of school. But he also knew that Dick lived a rather unconventional life before he was adopted by Bruce.
Dick was mainly homeschooled and spent a lot of time preparing for his acts in the circus. By the time he could walk, Dick was being taught gymnastics and stretches. Once he got good, they started teaching him acts and then started to include him in their acrobatics. Clark hoped that Dick was still able to be a kid through all of that.
”Ah you’re here Mr. Kent,” Alfred greeted at the entrance. Alfred extended out his hands to take the box from Clark, but he hesitated.
”No one else can see this…” Clark whispered.
Alfred nodded, understanding immediately. He took the box and walked it to a special separate room away from all the other presents.
Clark nervously walked through the grand entrance of the manor towards the gardens where the party was being held. He hoped that none of the parents of Dicks friends, who were probably well off since their kids went to Gotham Academy, questioned why a reporter was going to a kids birthday party. Though, of course, he could use the babysitter excuse but it also brings to question why Bruce would hire a report to babysit his kid when he could easily afford a top of the class nanny or personal tutor to do the same thing.
The garden was completely decorated in blue and red. Clark noticed when we walked up to the manor that the balloons outside were his colors, but he assumed it was a coincidence. After Clark started spending more time with Dick, Dicks obsession with Superman lessened 10 fold.
Now that Superman was a real person that he got to see regularly, he stopped his nightly ritual of watching video clips of the hero. And, at least in front of Clark, stopped talking about Superman almost entirely. So it was very surprising to see that his son was having a Superman themed birthday party.
But looking around, he noticed a lack of his insignia. Maybe it was just blue and red themed? Clark wondered.
Rich parents stood around holding crystal champagne flutes and holding small plates of hors d'oeuvres. They didn't even pay him a second glance.
There was a long table of food and drinks for the parents prepared by a personal chef and an adjacent table for the kids filled with snacks and juice. Clark grabbed a small plate containing a single piece of bruschetta with olive oil and garlic and looked around for Dick.
But he didn't have to look far when his legs were slammed by a small body that would have seriously injured any normal person. Luckily, Clark was also a super so he could handle the kids growing strength.
“You came!” Dick beamed.
The parents stopped their conversation to look over at Clark. He smiled at them bashfully. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“This is Dicks nanny and tutor,” Bruce announced with a wide smile, his grip on Clark's shoulder firm. The message was clear: play along or else.
“He's so smart,” Dick added with a chuckle. The two must have come up with this explanation together, Clark thought.
The parents smiled at Clark.
“Well if he's good enough for a Wayne then he must be really good,” one of them said.
“Yes, once Richard graduates maybe you could look after my Timothy. He's just going in to kindergarten this year,” another said.
Clark at Bruce expecting him to save him but Bruce just smiled. “Don't worry, I will give you his contact info once Dick is older.”
Clark sharply turned to refute Bruce but kept his mouth shut. He had entered a play where he was playing the role of nanny and if he didn't want people to start suspecting things then he would have to play along.
“Yes, I am always happy to help,” Clark responded with a tense smile. Bruce patted him in the shoulder and walked over to the parents to talk with them. Clark’s jaw twitched with how easy it was for Bruce to turn on his charismatic play boy alpha persona.
”Come! I want to show you!” Dick grabbed Clark’s hand and dragged him toward the bouncy castle. Clark took one last long look at Bruce before turning to see wherever he was being dragged.
“Oh wow, how fun,” Clark commented.
There were already six kids jumping in the castle while laughing and playing. “Come on, you should join us!”
“Oh I uh think I might be too big for that,” Clark responded sheepishly.
Dick frowned and gave a few glances to the bouncy castle and then back to Clark. There was no realistic way for Clark to fit in there.
“But uh,” he noticed that Dick was thoroughly upset. “I can watch from right here. See, I have a really good view.”
”That’s true. I wanted to show you all my cool acrobatic moves.”
”And you still can, I have a very clear view from right here,” Clark pointed to the castle.
Dick smiled and ran off a little too quickly. “Watch me do a backflip!”
After showing Clark every single move in his arsenal, it was finally time for the main game of the party: nerf war. Clark had seen it on the itinerary, but wasn’t sure exactly what it meant. Though after seeing just how many nerf guns Bruce had acquired, he assumed it was going to be the children playing some form of real life battle royale.
”Dad!” Dick yelled as he ran up to Bruce. “Can we play superheroes instead?”
”If that is what you want to do, it’s your birthday afterall.”
Dick’s smile widened larger than what should be humanly possible. “Then we will be the superheros and you,” Dick pointed to Clark. “Can be the villain and you,” Dick pointed at Bruce. “Can be the hostage! Now go hide somewhere and we’ll come find you.”
Bruce smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “A hostage situation. Don’t you want to use the guns to shoot each other or something?”
Dick thought for a moment. “Ok,” he turned to his friends. “You, you, you, and you are villains too and you also need to hide and if you shoot us first then whoever you shoot will also become a villain.”
His friends all agreed and made a race for the nerf guns and then ran into the manor.
(sidenote: if you do not know what nerf guns are and think these kids are going to be killing each other, nerf guns shoot soft squishy bullets. No one will be dying here.)
”Go on, hide!” Dick pushed Bruce and Clark toward the manor.
“Ok, ok I will take my uh hostage and go hide,” Clark said while motioning for Bruce to follow him.
Bruce quickly took the lead since he knew the manor very well and led them to the upstairs bedroom. He had large thick curtains that block out all light. “We’ll just hide here,” Bruce pointed to the curtains.
”Oh come on, we are not hiding behind the curtains. Dick is 9 not 4. We have to at least try to play along.”
Bruce scowled and crossed his arms. “Well, then what do you have in mind Mr. Villain?”
Clark rolled his eyes. “Do you have a closet or something where he wouldn’t expect?”
Bruce studied Clark for a moment before responding. “Fine. Follow me.”
Bruce led them to an unsuspecting door in the main upper hallway and opened it to reveal a walk-in linen closet. Because of course Bruce would have one of those. He motioned ‘after you’ and Clark walked into the closet.
“This is probably the biggest linen closet I have ever seen,” Clark marveled. He had been to the manor so many times now and there are still things that he has never noticed before.
”Yeah,” Bruce said as he sat down and leaned his back against the shelves. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. If it wasn’t for Clark’s super senses, he wouldn’t have even noticed.
They could hear the kids running around and screaming each time they get caught. Clark then realized that Dick had a very unfair advantage since he could just use his heightened senses to detect where everyone was. Which also meant that he most definitely knew where he and Bruce were.
Clark used his xray vision and focused his hearing to see how Dick was doing. It became obvious that Dick was deliberately leading his friends on wildgoose chases. Eventually, Dick said he heard a noise coming from the garage.
”They’re going into the garage. Is there anything dangerous in there?” Clark asked.
Bruce bolted up right. “Those kids better not touch any of my cars. Some of those are back-up batmobiles in disguise.”
As if on que, and as proof that Dick was hearing everything, he told his friends not to touch the cars or his dad will be mad. They soon left the garage and went on a wildgoose chase in another room.
“They left the garage,” Clark commented.
Bruce sighed, closed his eyes, and leaned back against the shelves. “Good.”
Clark spent most of his time watching as the kids kept running around and shooting each other. But with nothing else to do, he noticed when Bruce started holding his breath for long periods of time before letting out a breath and doing it again.
That didn’t make sense, Clark thought. He rubbed a hand on the scent gland on his neck to see if he’s releasing more than usual. Clark was very good at keeping his pheromone release moderate so as to not bother anyone. But he couldn’t help but wonder if Bruce was appalled by his pheromones.
His mind began to spiral. He wondered if that was one of the reasons Bruce didn’t like him, had his pheromones been bothering him this entire time? He wondered if he should wear scent blockers from now on to make sure to not bother him.
”Ok,” Bruce broke the silence. “This has been going on for long enough.”
Dick, who heard that all the way from the gardens, told his friends that there was one more place they still hadn’t checked. Once the kids opened the door, Clark was pelted with a barrage of nerf bullets and kids shouting at him ‘die villain’.
After the game was cake and presents. The cake was a multilayered blue and red cake with one layer of red in the middle and a layer of blue on the top and bottom. It had been expertly decorated and iced showing just how much money and care Bruce put into the party.
At the end of the night, and once all the kids went home, Clark asked Alfred for the present he brought. “Hey little wing,” Clark said.
Dick laughed. “Little wing? I’m not little! I am 9 years old now!”
”Ok, how about ‘big wing’?” Clark asked while presenting the gift wrapped box to the kid.
“Big wing is much better than little wing,” Dick stated as he grabbed the box. “Is this for me?”
“Of course, it's your birthday. I hope you like it.”
Dick made haste and tore through the wrapping paper and opened the box like his life depended on it. Inside was a small replica of the Superman suit. His eyes lit up as he held it up and compared it to the size of his body.
”I’m not sure if you’re still into Superman,” Clark chuckled. “But I thought you might like this. It’s made from the same fabric as my suit.”
”Woah.” Dicks eyes twinkled in amazement as he stared at the mini suit. But, to Clark’s surprise, he drops the suit and hugs Clark. “Thank you…” Dick paused like he wanted to say something but didn’t. “Mr. Kent.”
Clark kneeled down to Dick’s height. “Why so formal?” He laughed as he messed up Dick’s hair.
”Hey!” Dick laughed as he tried to grab Clark’s hand.
”Master Richard.” Clark and Dick look up at Alfred who had been watching the whole scene. “I think it is time for you to go to bed.”
Dick pouted, but before he could protest Clark responded. “I’ll make sure he gets to bed.”
”Thank you Mr. Kent. Happy birthday master Richard.” Alfred gave a rare smile before leaving to join Bruce in cleaning up the garden.
Clark picked up Dick and the suit. Dick felt the texture between his fingers as they ascended the stairs of the manor. Once they were on the second floor, Dick lamented. “I’m sad nothing happened.”
”What do you mean? So many things happened. You had the bouncy castle, the nerf guns, the cake and presents.” Clark opened the door to Dick’s room, it was still decked out Superman memorabilia.
“I made sure you guys could be alone, but nothing happened,” Dick sighed.
This made Clark stop in his tracks and hold the child out in front of him. “What were you wanting to happen?”
”Oh I don’t know.” Dick avoided Clark’s gaze. “Maybe a kiss or something. My mom said that’s what two people do when they really love each other.”
Clark tried to not laugh and be embarrassed at the same time. “That’s not really how things work. You should brush your teeth.” Clark pointed to the ensuite bathroom as he put Dick down.
Dick sighed and slumped his way to the bathroom. “But you really like my dad right? That’s why you keep coming here.”
A light rose flushed on Clark’s cheeks, but he shook his head and tried to gain composure. “Yes…but your dad doesn’t really like me. People who love each other kiss, it won't be right if it's just one-sided."
Dick brushed his teeth while pondering what Clark had said. He was still a kid afterall, the mysteries of adulthood still evaded him. When he’s done, he puts on his PJ’s and crawls into bed. Clark pulls up the sheet and tucks him in.
“Do you know what I wished for?” Dick asked.
“If you saw a birthday wish it might not-“ Clark was cut off.
”I miss my parents,” Dick admitted sadly.
“Oh sweety,” Clark ran a gentle hand through Dick’s hair to comfort him.
”But maybe I can have new parents. Like Bruce. And like you. I wish you were one of my dads too,” Dick admitted as he closed his eyes and snuggled up under the covers.
Clark’s hand stilled. He had no idea what to say.
—-
I wrote this while in Rome hehe
Thank you to everyone that interacts with this!
Things are getting very worrisome in the U.S. these days and it is very possible that omegaverse or queer media in the general could become censored on our internet under the guise of being inappropriate. The word ‘omegaverse’ is already banned on TikTok for being inappropriate and if things like KOSA goes through then it is very possible that lots of queer media, voices, stories, and history will be censored from us.
There have also been talks of overturning gay marriage. And that’s only the absolute tip of the iceberg of what is going on right now.
But I hope that this fic and my others can bring some joy during these trying times so I made sure to post this chapter as soon as I could. And I also made it extra fluffy. Just know that you are not alone!
Everyone that asked for part 3: @astudyintheburningofhearts , @hard-core-yaoi , @lostmonsterposts
THE RISE OF CENSORSHIP, FACISM AND THE END OF ANONYMITY
The Constitution Means Nothing and a Facist Dictatorship is Upon US
Guys, I fear we are cooked. I was already working on a short essay on censorship after seeing that the word ‘omegaverse’ is banned on TikTok and also the censorship of what is happening in LA and other parts of the U.S.. But I think we have hit an all time low. The dark cloud of facism is already upon us and probably has been for a while. A part of me fears to speak up about this, but another part of me wonders if I don’t say anything then who will?
If you don’t already know this, social media in the U.S. is incredibly censored right now and has been for a bit. One of the things people sometimes like to joke about is how the U.S. always says “Yeah we are bad, but at least we are not China” but the only difference between us and China is that their citizens know that their internet and media is censored and we don’t.
There has been 24 hour protests happening in L.A. against ICE. It has also been called a ‘Music Festival’ as a way to subvert censorship. Videos of the protests and anyone talking about it is either being taken down from TikTok or heavily censored, as in no one is seeing them. If you have not heard anything about this, that is because your social media is censored.
(Which for any international people reading this: ICE is immigration Police who have been kidnapping undocumented citizens and documented citizens (so people who are legally in the U.S.) and deporting them or putting them in camps or prisons. The kidnapping of citizens and deporting them without any due process (going through the courts of law) is illegal and against the constitution, but apparently if the president decides he doesn’t like something in the constitution he can just ignore it.)
All throughout the U.S., there are protests happening. But you will never hear about it. Even if the revolution is videotaped and posted, the social media companies that are in the pocket of the president are going to take them down and try to distract you with something else. The big news stations are also increasingly sucking up to the president and throwing integrity to the way side. But the second the news bends a knee to the facist, no one is safe. No information is safe.
The president just today is having Washington D.C. swarmed by armed federal agents, secret service, local police, and U.S. park police under the guise of fighting crime. But with Washington D.C. being a historically black city and the president specifically saying ‘we want our capital back’ it is easy to guess what some of the motives for this are. The president is actively trying to subjugate anyone who he doesn’t think belongs in this country whether they are a citizen or not. What he wants is a country of white yes men who will bow down and kiss his feet at every turn.
I will also point out how the only reason that Israel is able to get away with everything it is doing in Gaza is because the U.S. is still backing the genocide. Palestinians are being starved to death and killed and the people doing this to them is getting assistance from the U.S. Last year the International Criminal Court gave arrest warrants for Israeli leaders but the reason nothing has been done is because the U.S. imposed sanctions on the International Criminal Court. This told Israel that they can do whatever they want because the U.S. has their back.
So not only is the Trump presidency subjugating its own people, it is allowing for and encouraging a genocide. And when this is all over the people that could have actually done something are going to sigh and say what could I have done?
The revolution is now.
The only reason that not as many people are doing anything is because we are being placated by social media, porn, and other forms of entertainment. We are the attendees in the Colosseum saying that life really can’t be all that bad if we get to watch people die everyday for our enjoyment.
But that entertainment is soon going to be linked to our federal I.D.’s and will be on our record. Which means that every AO3 fic that you read will be linked back to you and your identity. The age of anonymity is gone. Soon all other social media sites will follow suit and everything we do will be linked back to us. And if for some reason, the government decides it wants to see everyone that, let’s say, searched up where the protests were. They can.
If they want to go through your google photos and see if you took pictures of a protest, they could. If they want to see what news articles or YouTube videos you are watching, they could. And since the constitution doesn’t seem to matter anymore, they could jail you or deport you. And people wouldn’t even know because any news about you going missing would be censored.
What I am referring to is the new age verification that is being rolled out in order to use certain parts of the internet. OSA (Online Safety Act), is being implemented in the U.K. Under the guise of helping to keep children safe on the internet. But in order to do so they must first determine who is and who isn’t a child which means they need people to upload their identification so that they can use and do certain things online. Which the desire to protect children is not bad, but the way that this is being done is. It means that not only are people’s ID’s going to be stored and documented somewhere while will also link back to their accounts and everything they do, it means that the government can unilaterally decide what it wants to consider inappropriate.
But what about people without proper documentation? They would not be able to use the internet properly.
Other countries like France, Australia and the U.S. are also starting to implement age verification. Companies like Apple and Youtube/Google are in support of age verification as well (though not surprising since they sell all of our data anyways)
But like I said, age verification is just the start. They will now be able to tie anything you do online to your government ID and they can pick and choose what they deem inappropriate and what they think should or should not be on the internet. This will directly affect queer people and people who interact with queer media. The government can decide that queer media is inappropriate and then unilaterally censor it or jail people for interacting or making it.
Online communities that support queer art and queer expression are at risk. And these communities are sometimes all young people have to feel seen and understood.
This is meant to both censor the internet and keep every citizen surveilled even more than we already are.
Like I said in the beginning, the word ‘omegaverse’ is banned on TikTok for being inappropriate. But this is coming at the same time that China is cracking down and jailing women who write gay erotica. Actual people are going to jail for writing yaoi and omegaverse content and I fear that the U.S. will soon follow suit under the guise of keeping children safe.
This isn’t some far off impossible thing, this is something that is happening right now and we need to do something about it. We need to fight now against the facism and the censorship before it comes for everyone who the president and his lackeys deem unamerican or inappropriate. They will start jailing people for what they post and interact with online and you probably won’t even hear about it.
—-
I wrote this in one go so there might be some mistakes and I know I jump around a little bit but I felt it imperative to say now. I will also be crossposting this to AO3 under the same name
Some sources:
The Internet Wants to Check Your I.D. - The New Yorker
‘Every Word has Come Back to Haunt Me’: China Cracks Down on Women who Write Gay Erotica - BBC
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | AO3 |
TW: light angst
A/N: The first part in this series was meant to be a oneshot so this chapter might read a lot different from the first part. I also decided to lean heavily into the soap opera genre and will be bringing in every trope and cliche possible :)
—-
Clark fidgeted with the sleeves of his dress shirt. Bruce had brought him back with him to the manor and nearly dragged him to his office. Though, last time Clark was in this office…he didn’t have much time to focus on the decor.
Bruce had a large mahogony desk that was very sturdy. Clark swallowed dryly as he tried to keep his mind from drifting. The truth that he was a father came back into focus.
When Clark had first theorized that Dick might be his son, he thought it was impossible. He didn’t even know if it was possible for someone from Earth to have a child with him. Not only that, their child should undoubtedly have some sort of super powers, but Dick seemed like a normal kid. Except for the fact that hypno glasses didn’t work.
If it wasn’t for the fact that he saw part of himself in Dick’s appearance, he would be questioning whether Bruce was certain that it was him and not someone else. The billionaire was known to have many different lovers, but now Clark was questioning whether that was true.
On the exterior, Bruce looked like every other alpha. Tall. Strong. Intimidating. But reality was different. A rare alpha presenting omega.
“You are Superman,” Bruce stated in a deep gravelly voice. He no longer had to hide the fact that he was Batman.
Clark rubbed a hand against the back of his neck awkwardly and smiled. “Yeah, I guess the cat is out of the bag now.”
Bruce huffed.
“Of course the father of my child is an alien superhero.” Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a tense breath. In a perfect world, he could have just paid the reporter off to stay quiet, but this is much more difficult. Nothing ever goes as planned.
Clark winced slightly. That was a bit rude. “If it makes you feel any better-“
”Nothing you say will make me feel better,” Bruce cut him off. The aggressive energy radiating off of Bruce made Clark uncomfortable. And Bruce’s usually earthy pheromones turned into something darker like charcoal.
Clark nodded. “Noted.”
Bruce huffed and crossed his arms. He expected more of fight, more aggression, but Clark nearly bowed his head in submission the moment they walked into the study. It made him feel sick.
Bruce bit his lip and turned his head away. “You will get to see him once a week. That’s it. Preferably less.”
”That’s not fair!” Clark stood up abruptly, his chair falling to the floor with a loud clang.
“He doesn’t…” Bruce trailed off. He wasn’t sure if Dick had any powers that he had been hiding, which in hindsight made the meeting at the manor a bad idea, but he wanted to meet Clark somewhere that he was familiar with. Somewhere where he held all the power.
“Twice a week, maybe. That is already pushing it. He doesn’t need to see Superman everyday.”
”It’s more than-“ Clark paused when he realized that Bruce was being very selective in what he said for a reason. Clark looked around the room and eventually used his x-ray vision to figure out where the kid was. He was in one of the rooms down the hall. “Will you be there? While I am…visting him.”
”Babysitting more like it. And no. I am a busy man. I have a multimillion dollar company to manage. And the Wayne Foundation. I am a very busy man,” Bruce nearly barked.
Clark had to use all of his self control to keep himself from retorting. The fact that Bruce was calling the time he gets to hang out with his son as babysitting didn’t sit right with him. He wasn’t some babysitter, he was a father that desperatly wanted to be in his son’s life.
At first, Clark wanted to tell Dick the truth. But the truth would oust both Bruce and himself so he begrudingly realized that keeping silent was the best option. Though, they would need to eventually tell the kid.
“What if he starts asking questions?”
Dick was a very smart kid. Obsessed with Superman and more agile and flexible than the average child, but very smart. Eventually, he will start asking questions.
”He likes Superman. He will probably be very excited to see his idol twice a week. And he already figured out your secret identity.” Bruce looked at a framed picture on his desk of Dick in his iconic Superman shirt.
“That’s not what I mean…” Clark trailed off.
”We will deal with that if it happens,” Bruce stressed.
Clark sighed.
—-
Dick is suspicious. When he heard Bruce and Clark return home together after the gala he pretended to be asleep while trying to listen to their conversation. But he only heard bits and pieces. Though one thing was for sure, he was going to get to see Superman more often.
The first couple vists was the time of his life. He showed Clark every possible place in the manor and had them reenact his most famous saves in the training room. But it got old really fast. He was no longer the cool hero he saw on TV, he was a real person. A man that visited him twice a week like clockwork. And every single time Clark was there, Bruce wasn’t.
Dick prided himself in knowing instantly that Clark was Superman. He assumed it was because he had seen so many videos and interviews of Superman and even met him in person before at the Watchtower.
But he wasn’t dumb. He noticed the tension between Bruce and Clark after their first home visit. Clark would always ask some question about Bruce that made Dick question what the superheroes intentions were. And he finally came to a conclusion.
Dick knew he wasn’t like the other kids. All of his senses seemed to be heightened and he could run faster and jump higher than anyone else his age. His parents always told him to keep it a secret. That his differences might scare people or they might try to hurt him if they find out he might be a meta human. His mom said one of her great grand parents was a meta human so that must be where he got it from. So he pretended he couldn’t hear the two men bickering every single time they crossed paths.
He played pretend about a lot of things. Like how Bruce was an alpha. Bruce never told him, but he smelled it one time and was very confused. He kept that knowledge to himself and played pretend. A normal person wouldn’t have been able to smell it, and he was worried Bruce would be upset to have adopted a meta human.
After his parents died, there was no longer anyone for him to talk to about it. But Clark was different and Dick had some leverage since he knew Clark’s big secret. Clark and Bruce would often whisper about a big secret and Dick was certain he had finally found it out.
“I know your secret,” Dick stated with a smug grin. He was in the movie room with Clark. They had watched the Incredibles for the third time. Dick loved any movies or TV shows with superheores.
Clark’s heart skipped a beat. He laughed awkwardly. “What secret?”
Dick left his lounge chair and ran up to Clark. “I know what the big secret is.”
”I don’t know what you are talking about?” Clark tried to keep himself from seeming too frazzled, but it wasn’t working. His body was reacting to the fact that the truth was finally going to get out. Though he expected Dick upset not…happy.
“The big secret!” Dick used his arms to show emphasis with how big the secret was. “But I will keep it a secret for you.”
Clark cocked his head to the side, confused. His brows stitched together as he tried to figure out why Dick was going to keep the fact that he was his son a secret. Being the child of a world renowed superhero and a billionaire is very intimidating so he understands why Dick might not want anyone to know. But shouldn’t the kid be a little bit more upset that his parents weren’t his biological parents and that everyone has been lying to him?
”But can I tell you a secret too? You see,” Dick’s face fell. “I have no one to talk to about this. Especially after my parents…” Dick blinked away tears. Even though he acted like he had finally gotten over their deaths, it was just a ficade. Another example of him playing pretend. “I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about this. And since I know you’re secret you will have to keep my secret or I will tell everyone.” Dick grinned meniacally at the last part.
A storm of emotioned brewed in Clark. He felt bad for the kid who had lost his parents, but he was also confused as to what Dick thought the big secret was.
”How do I,” Clark decided to try and goad the kid into saying what the secret was. “Know you actually know and aren’t just saying it.”
Dick rolled his eyes and huffed. “It’s obvious. You’re in love with my dad. That’s why you come here all the time. So that you can see him. But I don’t know if he likes you back.”
That was the last thing Clark thought Dick was going to say. He nodded slowly and steeled his reaction as best he could but a flustered blush still crept onto his face.
“Right, yes. I am…” Clark paused as Dick eagarly waited for him to admit that he was right in what the big secret was. “I am in love with your father and that is why I visit twice a week.”
Clark prayed that this wouldn’t eventually bite him in the butt later when Dick learns the truth about what the so-called ‘big secret’ actually is.
“Hah!” Dick shouted triumphantly. “I knew it!” He crossed his arms and smiled.
In that moment, Clark noticed just how similar Dick looked to Bruce. Dick was already acting similar to his father. Clark imagined a young Bruce Wayne smiling smugly after having just found out a secret on his own accord.
“Can I tell you a secret? But you can’t tell anyone!” Dick exclaimed. If it wasn’t for how obscenely large the manor was, Clark was sure Alfred would be able to hear this whole conversation just by how loud Dick is talking.
“Well you know my secret now so I guess it is only fair…”
Dick leaned in and whispered. “I might be a meta human.” Dick smiled. “Just like you! Though I know you’re different…but that’s why I liked you so much. You were just like me. I can hear really good and see really far and I can see really good at night and I can jump really high and run really fast. My mom said her great great grandfather was a meta human so I must have gotten it from him. But you have it keep it a secret.” Dick’s face fell. “I don’t want dad to know.”
Clark had no better opportunity to tell Dick the truth and as much as he wanted to grab the youngster and pull him into a big hug and explain that he was actually part kryptonian, he didn’t. He froze. His mouth opening and closing as the words escaped him.
”Ah yeah I-uh-won’t-uh-you know some kids are just athletically inclined,” Clark stammered and winced once he heard his own words.
Dick brow furrowed. “You don’t believe me?”
Clark abruptly stands up. “No no no it’s not like that! I believe you I really do I just…”
To prove his point Dick jumped up and touched the ceiling of the movie room. “See, I am not lying.”
”I believe you. I really do. And your-uh-secret is safe with me. I won’t tell anyone.” Clark ran to catch Dick as he came back down but the kid didn’t seem fazed at all that he was falling seven feet.
“Do you promise?” Dick wormed his way out of Clark’s grasp.
“I promise.”
”Hmm,” Dick studied Clark but decided to accept it. “It is kind of sad that you come here twice a week to be with my dad but he makes you hang out with me instead.”
”Sad?! That’s not- how old are you again?”
Dick held out his fingers and counted to nine. “I turn nine next month. I’m gonna be a fourth grader soon. And after fourth grade I will be a fifth grader and then I will be a big kid! Just like you!”
”How old do you think I am-“ Clark was cut off by the door opening. He pulled out his phone and looked at the time. He was supposed to have left thirty minutes ago.
“You’re still here,” Bruce said in a dead tone.
Dick ran up to him and gave him a hug. “Dad! How was the meeting?”
Bruce glared at Clark but then softened his gaze as he kneeled down to Dick’s height and ruffled his hair.
“Hey!” Dick shouted in protest, though his smile showed that he loved the gesture.
”Let me guess,” Bruce cupped his jaw as a display of mock thinking. “You watched the Incredibles. Or did we change things up this time and watch the Avengers again. Or maybe something more obscure like Sky High or maybe Captain Underpants?”
“Ew gross! I am not a kid anymore,” Dick protested.
”You sure about that?” Bruce asked as he picked Dick up and held him in his arms.
“We watched the Incredibles…multiple times,” Clark cut through the moment. Bruce glared at him and was about to sneer but then Dick turned his head up towards Bruce and he smiled instead.
”Daaaaaaad,” Dick whined.
”Diiiiick,” Bruce copied.
”I want to have a birthday party. And I want Clark to be there.” Dick turned around to Clark and winked. In his kid brain, he had decided to try and set the two men up. And there is no world where Bruce would deny Dick a birthday wish.
Bruce, on the other hand, was already imagining all the ways that he was going to beat Clark up the next time they had a second alone. It annoyed him enough that Dick was obsessed with every single hero, fictional and real, except for Batman. But on top of that his favorite superhero was also his secret biological father and Bruce’s baby daddy.
“Anything you want,” Bruce said through gritted teeth.
“Yay!” Dick hugged Bruce. Mission sucess. Now, he just needed to find an excuse to get the two men alone together.
“Bruce can I have a word with you?” Clark asked.
Bruce debated saying no. He really wanted to. But he also didn’t want Dick to see his more aggressive side. His jaw twitched in iritation as he put Dick down.
”I heard Alfred was making cookies again, maybe you can join him in the kitchen,” Bruce said as he patted Dick on the back.
Dick gave an encouraging thumbs up to Clark before rushing out of the room shouting Alfred’s name.
“What is it?” Bruce corssed his arms and glared as he spoke. The second Dick was out of the room his demeanor completly shifted.
”Shh,” Clark looked around frantically before grabbing Bruce and pulling him out of the movie room and toward the front of the manor.
“What are you doing? Unhand me!” Bruce shouted but Clark put a hand over his mouth.
”Be quiet, he can hear us,” Clark warned. Once they were fully outside Clark encircled his arms around Bruce’s torso and flew up into the sky.
”Clark! Let me go! What is the meaning of this?!” Bruce screamed and fought hard to get out of Clark’s grasp even though doing so would mean free falling hundreds of feet to the ground. Maybe even a thousand considering how high up Clark was going.
“Dick has super hearing. He can hear us argue. He thinks he’s a metahuman,” Clark explained once they were far enough away from the manor for Clark to feel sure that the kid could not hear them at all. He knew this was overkill, but he had to be sure.
”What?” Bruce had heard Clark initially, but his words were still sinking in. But, there was also a small part of him that was upset that his son told Clark this and not him.
“He has powers. They’re not that strong right now but I think they will get stronger later. We need to tell him the truth. I cant keep lying to him. You can’t keep lying to him. He’s our son,” Clark pleaded.
It was also at this moment that he became painfully aware that both his and Bruce’s bodies were flush against each other and their faces were only inches apart. One wrong move and they’d be kissing.
Clark inwardly smacked himself for deciding to grab Bruce and fly up into the sky instead of taking him somewhere else where they could talk.
“No we are not telling him. That’s final. If he thinks he’s a metahuman then that’s great.”
Clark furrowed his brow. “Great? Do you hear yourself? If you keep up this act, he’s going to hate you once he finds out! And probably me too! Don’t you want to be a good dad for him?”
Now that set Bruce off. He prided himself in his parenting. He made sure Dick had everything he could possibly want. He made sure to be at every school event and he encouraged each one of Dick’s interests no matter how odd. He sat through the same videos of Superman every single night for months when Dick first came to the manor because it was the only thing that calmed him down. He would do anything for his son. Well, anything but tell the truth.
”He won’t find out! And even if he does…” Bruce paused. “He would understand. I have been nothing but a loving father to him!”
”Understand? I think he would be devestated. Let’s look at the facts. You gave him up for adoption, made him believe his adoptive parents were his biological ones, and then when you were going to ‘take him back’ and stage a whole scene where his parents would give him up to have a better life they tragically died and he had to watch it all happen. And on top of that he is struggling with his identity as a super human. You may have had your reasons, yes, but he is just a kid. What he needs right now is to be able to grieve. What you are not helping him, you are helping yourself!” Clark shouted as he lowered them back down to the manor.
Dick and Alfred were standing in the garden holding a plate of cookeis. Dick watched the pair descend with awe, while Alfred looked worried.
”You took me up here just to yell at me?” Bruce huffed. “I don’t want to see you again until the birthday party.”
Clark rolled his eyes but relented. Trying to get through to Bruce was like trying to get through a brick wall. A sinking feeling dug into Clark’s heart. This was not going to end well.
—-
I wrote this in a cave with a box of scraps (on my Ipad while on an airplane) so there may be some issues. Let me know what tropes or cliches you want to see next!
Everyone that asked for a part 2: @musician-of-the-stars , @shygirl7stuff , @ariston77
TW: internalized homophobia, being gay seen as a sin, lots of religious imagery and actions (Clark is a priest), angst
”I kissed him.”
Father John let out an exasperated sigh.
Clark had conveniently left out the part where the man that was bringing him into confession day in and day out was actually a vampire. An ancient vampire. The mortal enemy.
”You are a priest, Clark. You took a vow before God. Sometimes we slip up and make mistakes but it is important to remember where you came from.”
”But…” Clark twiddled with his multi-colored rosary. “It didn’t feel like a mistake.”
Father John slowly turned, but Clark never met his gaze. The two sat in a long silence. There was a distant chatter of citizens outside admiring the glow of the stained glass in the morning sun.
Father John is the first to speak. “The church has changed its stance on many things over the years. I’m sure your…affliction,” Clark winces at the priest's words. “Would be one of them. I cannot pretend to understand why God brought you here now and not later. God does not give us a fight we cannot win-“
”You say that every time. And every time I am back here asking for absolution,” Clark sighed, biting his lip.
The memories of the night before replaying in his mind. He had crossed some unspoken line and he knew there was no going back. Maybe in a perfect world he would have resisted. He would have let Bruce go back to Gotham. But nothing felt more right than being in his arms. Feeling his blood rush to his neck and arch into his touch. Like some school girl.
“At least you are admitting your sins.” Father John was trying to be supportive of his fellow priest, but it was all falling on deaf ears. Clark only heard the negative. His mind focussing on the supposed sinful nature of his actions. The supposed depravity. The supposed brokenness. But he didn’t feel broken. Not anymore.
When he imagined himself, he was no longer surrounded by thorny bushes. He was in a fast field of wildflowers. A rainbow of different colored flowers, all blooming for him. Or maybe not him. Maybe they were all blooming for Bruce.
It didn’t feel wrong. Constantly denying himself the simple pleasure is what felt wrong. Constantly ruminating on his theoretical monstrosity is what felt wrong.
“If I was made this way, what sins do I have to confess?” Clark asked mostly rhetorically.
“Father Clark,” Father John exclaimed.
“If at any point in time in the future, the church decides to go back on their decision that being gay is a sin then what sin do I have to confess? I am of the cloth. I am a symbol of peace and hope. I heal the injured and I feed the hungry. I shouldn’t have kissed him, yes. But not because he is a man, but because I vowed to dedicate my body and live a life of celibacy for our Lord. I vowed to protect the world from evil and to uphold the divine light.” Clark uses his powers to make a small ball of light appear in his palm. “God chose me for a reason.”
”To help others and to spread His news,” Father John continued.
“But why did He let me become a priest if it meant this much anguish? Why did He give me this power if it meant I would have to sacrifice who I am?” Clark’s tear stains reflected a purple light onto his face.
Father John laid a tentative hand onto Clark’s back and rubbed in gentle circles. Clark’s breath hitched as he fell forward, hiding his face from the priest. But there was no hiding the pitiful sounds he was making. Like a dam breaking he broke out into all-out sobs.
When Clark first arrived on Earth, he had a message from his dead parents back on Krypton telling him to protect and serve the people of Earth. That he has been blessed by the sun god and it was his duty to help others. He grew up in a small town in Kansas imagining how amazing his future would be. How many people he could help.
When he was younger he would make his very supportive parents, Ma and Pa Kent, play church with him. He would make tiny eucharists out of playdoh and they would pretend to take it. Every night he insisted that they sing at least one hymn before bed, and after his night time prayers.
“Make you to shine like the sun, and hold you in the palm of His hand,” Ma would sing as she tucked him in to bed. “You need not fear the terror of the night, not the arrow that flies by day. Though thousands fall around you, near you it shall not harm. And He will raise you up.”
He had so much hope for the future. So many ideas on all the things he could do once he became a priest. Going into Seminary was just the logical course of action, never questioning the path he was on.
Back in his teens years, he felt himself lucky that he never cared about female attraction. He attributed it to his strong divine energy and figured he must just be predisposed to not suffer the chains of lust.
Looking back now, he wanted to hit his younger self for his stupidity and naivety. It wasn’t that he was somehow better than others, it's that the dynamite had never been lit properly.
“I cannot pretend to know the intentions of our Creator“ Father John said as he rubbed small circles over the tense muscles of Clark’s back.
Clark laughed. A genuine laugh. “You say that-“
”And every time I mean it. But in my many years of doing this, I can tell you one thing I have learned. Sometimes the church puts too much emphasis on blind faith. Of going into the darkness with no flash light and hoping for the best. But doubt is what gives the much needed light to faith. I do not have faith that the sun will rise every morning, I know it will. Faith is a way for humans to feel like they have some semblance of control while traversing through life’s toughest battles. I do not know why these things happen. I too doubt upon occasion.”
Clark turned and looked up at his fellow priest.
“I have received thousands of confessions. I have given thousands of absolutions. I have heard people describe the most depraved acts. The most mortal of sins. I have seen just how dark this world can be. But,” he rests his hand on Clark’s shoulder. “I have also seen how beautiful this world is. I have seen more hope and change than the average person will ever know.”
Father John sighed and looked up at the resurrection. The golden stained glass halo illuminated by the sun.
“Sometimes we turn away from the sun and hate ourselves for our shadows. But without the sun we would not be able to see.” Father John stood up and walked over to the altar. The burning candles flickering with the movement.
“Some people get scared of the darkness and instead of turning back around, they fill the void with artificial light. Some people are taught that the sun hates them. For others, the only light they can see is the one coming from inside them. We are all different.” Father John picks up one of the candles to light another. “I do not know why you are going through this. But I can at least be there to receive your darkness.”
”What if it is not…darkness,” Clark asked. He wiped off the tear stains from his face with his sleeve.
“If you have something to give for absolution, I will receive it. I am not here to judge you. I am here to help you. I just want you to turn back toward the Son.”
Clark opened his mouth, but the words refused to come out. How could he stand in the sun if the one he loved was cursed and thrown out by that very sun?
“I am sorry for all of my sins,” Clark said in a low voice. But he really wasn’t penitent, he just wanted to get the confession over with. He could only bare his soul for so long before it started to get exhausting.
Father John sighed and gave a tight smile. “I believe going on a retreat would be good for you. There is a retreat happening in Kansas City in a few weeks. Fasting also helps to remind us how much of our life God has given us.read ”
”I understand, Father…” Clark bit his lower lip. Never in a million years did he imagine that he would be saying this prayer and not mean it. Or at least be struggling to understand how something wrong could feel so right.
“My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart.” His usual bright eyes are dulled, his gaze almost apathetic. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t the version of him he recognized. It was like all of a sudden he found himself in a body that he didn’t recognize that would willingly go against the God that gave him his powers. “In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things.”
Above all things.
“I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. In his name, my God, have mercy.”
”God, the Father of mercies, through the Death and Resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and poured out the Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God grant you pardon and peace,” Father John said the prayer of absolution.
Peace.
”And I absolve you from your sins, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
”Amen,” Clark said in unison while doing the sign of the cross.
“It is almost time for evening mass.”
Clark nodded. It was time for him to go back to reality. Return to his room and rethink everything he has ever done. Wondering what the point of everything was if he was going to inevitably fall anyways.
The Wayne manor felt darker than usual. The place itself looks like some abandoned gothic castle with blackout curtains and a well manicured garden. Darkness was the point of the design. The interior was shades of black and red with a few hints of blue. The thing that stood out the most in the dreary home was the gaudy golden chandelier.
Right after his encounter with Clark, Bruce went straight back to the manor. He spent most of his time staring at the same report. The Joker had gotten hold of some vampire venom and started turning his goons. Which was soon going to lead to a city wide disaster and potentially an international disaster if the public learns about the existence of vampires.
But none of that brought Bruce out of his own thoughts.
“Master Bruce,” Alfred said. Alfred had been at Bruce’s side ever since he returned, though Bruce didn’t seem to notice.
Bruce took in a deep breath and shook his head. “What is it Alfred? I need to plan out how I am going to…” Bruce’s voice got quiet as he was bombarded by memories of biting Clark’s neck.
”Master Bruce, it is not my desire to overstep but you have been staring at the same page for the last four hours. And you stared at the page before that for another 5 hours. Is there something that is bothering you Sir?” Alfred asked, worried. He had been with the Wayne family for generations, and he helped raise Bruce since he was born. And in all of that time he had never seen Bruce space out for nearly 10 hours straight.
“Clark knows I am a vampire,” Bruce said in a tense voice.
“Oh my! What happened?” Alfred asked. He was against Bruce joining the Order of Justice but only lightly voiced his concern. He figured letting Bruce do whatever he wanted was the best way to help him, but the possibility of his identity getting found out skyrockets when you live in close quarters with others.
“I bit him. And then…” Bruce took in a long breath and ran a hand down his face. The memory was still so vivid. The taste of Clark’s blood mixed with saliva as the two men kissed. Clark was a bit clumsy with it, which Bruce found a bit endearing. He still remembered the way Clark shook slightly when Bruce pushed his tongue past Clark’s lips. The phantom heat of the kryptonian’s touch still radiated under Bruce’s skin. Like it became a permanent part of him. And that scared him.
Alfred waited with bated breath. His mind spinning with all the terrible possibilities of what could have happened next. If Bruce had drained enough blood he probably could have nearly killed the man if not severely weakened him.
“We kissed.” A weight lifted off of Bruce’s chest.
“Oh…I did not know you liked him.”
Bruce wanted to respond that he also did not know that, but it would be a lie. He did know. He just wasn’t ready to admit it. He assumed it was just a morbid manifestation of his desire to die. To fall in love with one of the few people that could kill him. Put him out of his misery. Rid him of this wretched curse.
That’s all Bruce thought it was.
But then something unexpected happened. It started as a seed. A small emotion that Bruce couldn’t place. It bothered him. He watered it wondering what it would become. And when it bloomed, an image he never thought he would see appeared in his mind: Clark crying. Inconsolable. Begging and praying. Over Bruce’s dead body.
He didn’t like that. Didn’t like the way it made him feel. Made him have to acknowledge that maybe possibly he would rather stay alive if it meant that Clark wouldn’t cry for him.
Bruce had been working alongside Clark for a long time. The priest would tear up at animal videos. And Bruce heard him every night after a mission praying for the soul of the deceased vampire. If he felt for Bruce as much as Bruce feared, then his death would be world ending. But that was the only hope that has kept Bruce going this whole time, that one day Clark would do the right thing and kill him as well.
“I don’t,” Bruce lied.
Clark went through every scenario in his head on what he would say to Bruce when he returned to the rectory. But he never came.
At first, Clark thought the billionaire must have been busy. Patiently, like a devout follower, he waited every night. Every unexpected sound made his heart flip, since it could have been Bruce.
In Bruce’s defense, Clark had heard about the fiasco that went on in Gotham. Which helped to calm some of Clark’s anxious nerves. His knees might as well have been permanently bruised from kneeling in prayer every night wishing Bruce a safe and quick mission and most importantly a safe return.
But even though Clark had gone through every possible scenario of what Bruce could say to him when he returned, he did not anticipate him to not return at all. No matter how difficult the mission, Bruce had always returned eventually. Even if it was just to check up on Clark’s research into the curse.
Another hint into Bruce’s true identity that Clark wished he had caught onto sooner. Just like how Bruce hated doing anything with ancient vampires or anything in a team unless it was him and Clark. Unless he was going up against a very strong vampire, Clark’s divine powers usually keep him from getting cut or hurt.
Every word that Clark wished he could say to Bruce wilted in his mind.
Does he hate me?
Does he think I told the others?
Does he…regret it?
The other members of the order were quick to notice the change in Clark and the subsequent absence of Bruce, but none of them dared to say anything. Even if all the pieces of the puzzle were already there. The truth existed in the silence. It bent around them in missions and in conversation. A low buzz that no one could find the source of.
Clark dug his nails into his palms as he bit back the desire to scream. He begged for the forbidden fruit and was subsequently cast out of the garden. Falling face first into his own self-loathing and realizing the importance of how everyone perceived him. He covered up his nakedness, his truth, with smiles and kind gestures. But under the surface, he was fighting a losing battle of his own creation.
Chasing after a shadow that would never leave him alone no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it didn’t exist. He wondered if Bruce’s absence was a punishment for his sin. For going against his vows. For being so deeply in love with a man that could never reciprocate those feelings. Neither of them could.
On the surface, Bruce was an aloof enigma in Gotham and any news or rumor that the media could get their hands on, no matter how outlandish, they beat into the ground until they could learn another thing about him. There were always rumors of him dating women, but there was rarely any substantial proof other than word of mouth.
Batman, on the other hand, was a feared and beloved vigilante whose existence was constantly debated. Some people thought it was an urban legend, a man in black robes and a black cape hunting down criminals faster than the police ever could. There were rumors that Batman was the grim reaper, a vengeful ghost, or even a version of the moth man.
But there were other rumors too. Clark and the others never listened to them since it was so impossible, but some people believed Batman to have been a vampire. A vampire that hunts down criminals and sucks their blood and then leaves them for dead. Though for people who do not know about the existence of such mystical creatures, they were correct in one thing. And Clark feared they were right in both.
Had Bruce been drinking the blood of the vampires he killed? The thought made Clark shiver and clench his fists even tighter. The image of Bruce covered in someone else's blood invaded Clark’s mind. The red eyes leering at him in this twisted nightmare. Bruce’s red tongue moving slowly over each of his fangs. Drinking in the taste of someone else.
Clark sighed. His palms were bleeding and he had to ground himself from this madness.
He thought it would be another night where he closed his eyes and prayed to either be reunited with Bruce or to be smited in his sleep. But then, like church bells ringing, he heard the familiar sound of Bruce’s heart beat.
Clark’s heart caught in his throat. He quickly healed his hands and stood up, brushing off his cassock. He quickly grabbed a red scarf and put it on. He cleared his throat and waited.
Bruce slowly opened the main door to the rectory and made his way to his room. As he passed Clark’s room, he slowed down slightly, as if in anticipation. Clark took that and opened his door, wanting it to appear as if they were meeting by chance.
“Oh, you’re back,” Clark said in faux surprise.
Bruce didn’t turn to face Clark at first. He stared at the wooden floor panels instead. After Bruce drank Clark’s blood, nothing has been able to satisfy him. Nothing has made him feel full like that.
Hunger was the baseline for any vampire. Constantly in a state of abject hunger that can only be satisfied through destruction and madness. The stealing of one’s human life in order to preserve another.
Bruce had gotten used to the hunger. The gnawing in his throat and the little needle
prick in his brain begging him to drink blood. And yet, for a moment, he felt normal.
No hunger.
No fear.
No madness.
Just him and the man that he was training to kill him. Held in each other's arms like the world was about to end they wanted to spend their last second immortalizing their shared bond. He no longer desired anything except to be with Clark. And that was an even greater curse than vampirism.
Bruce tried starvation. In his twisted mind, he thought the hunger would remind his body what it truly was. But when he finally drank again, it did not taste the same. Like all of a sudden his black and white world was brought into technicolor for a moment and nothing else would ever taste the same.
In the darkest of moments, he felt like an addict who was addicted to something he could never have again. Something forbidden. Something holy.
The desire burned through his veins as if trying to claw its way out and the only thing that calmed the beast was Clark’s blood. Nearly healed now, marks inched up Bruce’s neck from when he tried to claw out his own throat.
Tantalizing images of Clark’s fluffy hair mussed under his fingers taunted him. His fangs buried deep into the unblemished neck. The small whimper that Clark let out when Bruce gripped him harder and drank like a man who had been walking in the desert for centuries and had just found an oasis.
Bruce scowled.
The hunger scratched at his resolve. Like a devil sitting on his shoulder, encouraging him to just bite his former partner one more time. Just once more. And by the look in Clark’s eyes he knew the man would allow him to do it.
Bruce shook his head. “Yeah.”
Clark’s chest felt needlessly tight. He interpreted every single slight movement from Bruce as disdain. But he was still hopeful that it was all in his head and Bruce was just acting like he always did before they crossed the line.
A silence encapsulated them as the two stood in the hallway awkwardly. Each with their own story to tell and intentions to explain and yet neither talked.
It was in this silence that Bruce decided to put the final nail in the coffin. A small greedy part of him wished that Clark would confess or say some sort of mixture of ‘I miss you’ but neither came. And Bruce knew why. Clark was a priest and if word got out that he had kissed a man then he could face ex communication. And being a priest was Clark’s greatest passion, he wouldn’t give it up for anyone.
”The other night,” Bruce began, his throat scratchy as he spoke.
Clark’s eyes grew wide as he held his breath in anticipation. He had hoped that they could talk about it, but Clark didn’t have the courage to bring it up himself.
”Was a mistake.”
”Oh.”
A pang shot through Bruce’s chest as if he could feel Clark’s emotions as if they were his own emotions. The two, forever connected by some unseen string of fate that cannot be cut. Every breath they breathe is each other. Each beat of the other’s heart thundering in their ears.
For one moment in time they were seen for who they truly were, and not what others wanted them to be. The enigmatic billionaire. The pious priest. For a moment they were just two people connected through love and pain. And while Clark would rejoice in such a connection, all Bruce felt was fear.
Clark’s eyes glassed over and he turned his head down to hide his face. He forced a smile and blinked his eyes multiple times to keep the tears at bay. Out of all the possible scenarios that he imagined, this one hurt the most. He hoped and prayed, maybe selfishly, that Bruce would reciprocate his feelings.
”If you want to tell the others about-“
“I won’t.” Clark nearly sprung up. His eyes were pleading but he tried to hide it. “Your secret is safe with me. I promise. Scouts honor. I mean it.”
Clark grabbed Bruce’s hand to prove his intentions but Bruce recoiled at their touch. Clark’s jaw twitched as he tried not to think about it in the moment.
“I see. Well…”
“I am going to Kansas. There’s a retreat at The Archdiocese of Kansas City. I will be gone for a while. I-“ Didn’t want you to be worried while I am gone. “If you need to find me I will be there.”
Bruce nodded his head.
“Good.”
Clark raised an eyebrow at that, slightly confused. Good? Is he happy I am leaving? Did he really not come back here all that time because he didn’t want to see me? Clark shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts.
”Goodnight,” Bruce said as he walked off to his room.
Clark stood still as he watched the man clad in black robes and cloak walk down the hallway like a wraith. Once Bruce’s door closed shut, a tear trickled down Clark’s face. His smile fell to a frown and his chest heaved for air.
Not beta read.
I am sorry this took so long! I was trying to get all of my projects done as fast as possible but life got really hectic and I didn’t have a moment to finish this chapter till now. I already have the part 3 drafted up and I have planned time to work on it this upcoming week. But I am also working on an essay and another fic so I am not sure when it will come out.
Let me know if any of the formatting is weird. I had to do this on my Ipad and it was super difficult. I will try to fix any issues once I am able to use a computer again. I am currently on a pilgrimage/vacation so I have limited resources. Also, I am not sure if all the parts make sense together since I wrote this in a lot of different intervals. Let me know if there are any inconsistency issues.
Also! I have an AO3 now with the same name so it will be updated there as well. It is really interesting seeing what is popular on AO3 vs Tumblr. My most popular fic on here has only 18 kudos on there.
TW: internalized homophobia, being gay seen as a sin, lots of religious imagery and actions (Clark is a priest), mentions of suicidal ideation, no smut but very suggestive (read at your own discretion), blood drinking, angst
Rain pelted down on the streets of Gotham. Bruce’s cloak was completely soaked; water dripping down his face as the silver dagger in his hand glinted in the moonlight. He had gotten word that a low level vampire was terrorizing people in the industrial area and he was ready to put an end to the monster.
The sound of something getting kicked alerted Bruce that his target was near. He gripped the dagger and quickly turned the corner stabbing the vampire in the chest before the man even knew what was coming for him. The vampire’s eyes widened and he hissed. As his body turned into ash the vampire smirked. “Traitor,” were his last words.
Bruce himself was also a vampire. He came from an ancient lineage that allowed him to hide in plain sight. Normal vampire weapons didn’t work on him and he could go out into the sun. But his parents were killed by an ancient vampire who didn’t like how much power the couple had in the undead community. No one knew that Martha and Thomas had a kid. They hid Bruce really well, since a new born vampire was always a target.
They wanted him to at least be able to grow up like a normal child. Not having to worry about the politics of the aristocratic vampires that ruled over the world away from the public’s eyes. And it worked, until they died. Leaving Bruce with one of their thralls to take care of him and teach him everything his parents didn’t.
Alfred was an amazing teacher and was very knowledgeable on vampire society and ancient vampires. He had been turned into a vampire by one of Wayne's descendants centuries ago and worked as their diligent servant ever since. He had lived through many ages and era, standing tall through wars and innovation. But nothing could have prepared him for taking care of a born vampire on his own.
Born vampires were very rare and were much stronger than any regular vampire. They could only be killed by someone stronger than them. Regular tactics like silver daggers, wooden daggers, garlic, holy water, sun exposure, etc. never worked on them. They could disguise themselves as a human and live amongst the people.
They were gods amongst their own people. But as the world became more commercialized, some were able to rise up large empires while others fell to the wayside. A war broke out amongst the ancient vampires and Martha and Thomas were a casualty. They always stayed neutral, but people didn’t like how much money their business was amassing. Some felt it was unfair.
By the time Bruce became an adult he searched down the vampire that killed his parents and killed him. He thought it might heal something in him or give him closure. But closure is just hoping for a different ending to something that cannot be changed. He felt nothing. He had spent years becoming strong enough to enact his revenge and it all culminated in something very anti-climactic.
The war had cost many noble vampires their lives, meaning that the man that killed his parents no longer had anyone to help defend him. And when he died, he smiled. Finally able to experience death.
Bruce didn’t like it. He wanted there to be a huge fight. He wanted to have to defend himself against an army of thralls and come out victorious so that the years of honing his skills could feel worth it. But it was none of that. The man never even putting up a fight.
“Did you get him?” A voice asked through an inner ear communication device. Clark.
After getting revenge, Bruce decided he would take out all vampires for good. He joined the Order of Justice, a group of very skilled vampire hunters masquerading as priests and clergy. Though some of them had really been ordained, like Clark.
“Yes,” Bruce said in a gruff voice as he watched the rain drops mix with the pile of dust on the floor. Moonlight filtered through harsh rain clouds. He stared up at the moon, his black hair reflecting the silver shine. ”I will be on my way back.”
”That’s good. Be safe,” Clark responded over the coms.
When Bruce first joined the order he learned of the divine being from outer space named Clark Kent. The man radiated sunshine which made Bruce’s skin feel prickly and his body feel sick. But Clark wasn’t like the others who wanted to kill every vampire and rid the world of their evilness. Clark wanted to find a way to cure vampires and return their humanity.
It sounded too good to be true. Vampires were cursed long ago by the sun god. And the curse continues to be spread from one vampire to the next. Never being able to go out into the sun, being forced to live forever by constantly killing. Vampires didn’t have the luxury of pacifism or mercy. They were beings bound by the shackles of instinct and desire. Never being able to break the chains of either.
But Clark didn’t see them that way. He believed that he was sent here to help the vampires, not destroy them. However, his divine power ended up killing the vampires instead of freeing them. So, he set out on a personal mission to discover the way to break the curse. Traveling the world and reading as many ancient tomes and books as he could. Learning everything he could about the nature of the curse and why the sun god turned his back on those people.
It was slow at first, Bruce just showing a slight interest in Clark’s study. At times even secretly funding his research and spending millions on ancient texts. Scouring the desert for any buried libraries of antiquity. Hoping that maybe this time it would give an answer.
His help did not go unnoticed. Clark started to find it suspicious that texts kept getting delivered to him and every time he mentioned wanting to find someone who could translate a text he’d get an email the next day of an eager scholar wanting to work with him. The public still didn’t know about the existence of vampires so Clark would call himself a researcher of esoteric religion.
There was only one person that could have been helping him from the sidelines. Someone with lots of money and power and instead of using any of it was spending his days fighting vampires.
Clark was the first to ask. He invited Bruce to join him on hunts, or during his travels. Bruce kept denying his involvement at first but eventually agreed to join the priest.
“Though Bruce, I have a question about this most recent…text,” Clark said over the coms as he looked down at a very dilapidated collection of papyrus. “How did you get your hands on this one? Please tell me it wasn’t-“
”It wasn’t grave robbing,” Bruce said with a huff as he made his way toward the train station.
“Because last time you told me that I found the person who was hired to help you. You know it is very unethical to go into tombs and take things without permission,” Clark scolded him with a smile as he gently touched the papyrus.
“Is there anything in there?” Bruce asked.
“About vampirism or the curse of the sun god? No. But this is a very beautiful religious text. You should probably give this to a museum or a college or something. Preferably anonymous lest they find out you-“
”It wasn’t grave robbing this time. Or at least I didn’t do the robbing. Some rich guy had it sitting in a safe.”
”And I am sure you asked nicely for it,” Clark asked with a glint in his eyes. Clark and Bruce couldn’t have been more different, and yet they worked so well together. Bruce was efficient, so much so that the others in the Order of Justice were scared of his brutality. He killed quickly. Clark would try to purify the vampires yet it would always end in their death.
“Believe whatever you want. He won’t come looking for it, that much is true.” Bruce entered the train station and pulled out his ticket to Metropolis. Like clock work, the last train of the night arrived and Bruce stepped on.
The average onlooker would assume he was some priest of a monastic order. He wore a black cassock with a large cross necklace over his chest. In order to hide his identity while out hunting, Bruce added a large hood and a mask that covered the lower part of his face.
Someone had taken a picture of him and posted it online asking whether he was a monk or a priest and the internet was in a frenzy trying to figure out exactly where the outfit originated. Bruce, however, made sure any mention of him while he is hunting is swiftly deleted from existence. The public couldn’t know that the elusive billionaire was actually a traitorous vampire hunting his own kind.
Not even the Order of Justice could know that. He knew they would kill him instantly. Diana and Clark might hesitate momentarily, but they would eventually do the right thing. He was sure the others wouldn’t hesitate for even a moment. But he wasn’t just any vampire, the only one of them that could succeed in killing him was Clark.
Bruce was sure that even Clark would do it. Even if as a way of testing whether he could rid Bruce of the curse. One day those soft uncalloused hands would be placed on him and he would be filled with the intense pain of divine power. His body burning from the inside out as if consumed by the sun.
To any normal person, divine powers could heal wounds and if he used all of his powers he could even raise someone from the dead. The public saw him as a hero. A saint sent to the world from heaven to help the needy and heal the poor.
Bruce looked at himself in the reflection of the train's window. The black eyeliner that he used to disguise the visible portion of his face was running down in streaks from rain and sweat. His black hair and robes clung to his skin like one big oil spill.
In order to be better equipped and ready to help the order, he moved into their quarters. A coed rectory set up behind an old gothic cathedral in Metropolis. Some of the members of the Order of Justice, like Clark, were more public and would often be out helping people. Bruce wasn’t like that at all. No one even knew that the elusive billionaire was a part of this secretive order.
Traitor
Bruce ran a hand down his face as the vampire's words ruminated in his mind. For a slight moment, his iconic blue eyes glinted red.
Word spread fast in the undead community about an ancient vampire that turned against his own people. Batman, they called him. He would swoop in through the shadows and kill without mercy.
His coms crackled.
“Have you had dinner yet? Hal and I made this stew. And you…I think it’s pretty good. Might be nice to have something warm with all the rain.”
Warm.
Bruce sighed. He had become so accustomed to the cold that he couldn’t even tell the difference.
“Don’t worry, I was watching him the whole time. I was a bit surprised myself,” Clark said as he set the papyrus in a protective box that he would soon ship off. The corners of his mouth upturned.
“I can have a little bit,” Bruce replied awkwardly. He didn’t want to get too attached to the others. But it would be suspicious if he constantly ignored them, he reasoned with himself.
Clark smiled and mouthed a silent ‘yes’. Clark’s goal was to get the enigmatic man to open up a little to them. Or at least to him.
When Bruce returned to the rectory, Clark was already waiting for him at the main door with a bowl of stew. He was going to hand the bowl to Bruce but then saw just how soaked the man was.
“Oh wow you need to get into something dry,” Clark said as he practically ushered Bruce to his room. “You could get a cold if you walk around with wet clothes like that. I’m telling you, you should really get your cassock at least lined with something waterproof if you are going to be going to Gotham all the time.”
“I’m fine,” Bruce said in a gruff voice as he grabbed the bowl of stew from Clark's hands. Clark gave him a slight glare before pushing him into his room.
Bruce’s room was simple. He had his clothes, his weapons, some books, and a laptop. You wouldn’t even know it was his room if it wasn’t for the plaque outside.
Bruce sat down on his bed and took a tentative bite of the soup.
“Ugh,” Clark groaned. “You are going to get your bed wet too if you sit on it like that. Here,” Clark grabs the bowl back. “Get changed and then we can eat.”
The two men had a staring match, but Clark was not letting up. He was practically the mother hen of the order and he wasn’t about to let anyone get sick. Though, he could just heal them if they did.
“Fine. Leave.” Bruce pointed to his door.
“I’ll just be outside.”
“How was the mission?” Clark asked. They had moved to Clark's room, on his insistence, since he had a hearth. Bruce sat at the very edge of Clark’s bed as he slowly ate the stew that was now just barely lukewarm.
”Fine,” Bruce said in-between chews. “Hal made this?”
Clark smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. Hal wasn’t one to cook. Or clean. ”I helped, but it was his idea.”
”Not bad.”
A silent victory. Bruce never praised anything and hearing him praise something that Clark had a hand in making made him feel…fuzzy. Almost jittery. Like his body could explode into a million pieces.
Bruce was an enigma. Broodish. Dark. Silent. It made Clark want to know more. Want to get under his skin and read his mind. See the world from the perspective of a billionaire whose parents were killed by vampires.
Clark clears his throat and focuses on the fire, taking long deep breaths to return his composure. “Apparently Zatanna has been on the case of this ancient vampire. Tracking their magic signature. Apparently, they are getting close to Metropolis. Might even be here now. Barry, Diana, Hal, Zatanna and I are going to try and track them down. I know you don’t like doing things involving ancient vampires but-“
”Not interested.”
”-it would be great having your help,” Clark finished. He knew Bruce would not want to join. Bruce rarely ever worked with anyone. Always wanting to go alone. Be the lone wolf as the others called it. Sometimes, if Clark wanted to try a new technique for removing the curse then Bruce would join him, but he always stuck to the shadows. Never engaging. Just there to watch.
”I work alone.” Bruce glared at Clark knowing the priest should already know this.
“Right. Yeah. Well, I’ll tell you how it goes.”
Bruce opened his mouth to say that Clark didn’t need to tell him anything, but he decided against it. Like the sun and the moon, Bruce and Clark were completely different. Clark was optimistic. Trusting. Hopeful. And Bruce…he was the opposite of that.
Clark’s room had a lot more character compared to Bruce. The priest had stacks on stacks of books and documents. Relics and tapestries strewn about. Collections of rosaries, holy water, and silver objects. His closet was an array of white, blue, and red. He had blue and red stoles and scarves that he would wear depending on his mood and intention.
“Hmm,” Bruce hummed in response. It wasn’t a rejection, which to Clark was a win.
Trying to get the cold man to warm up was Clark’s prerogative. And every tiny step was still a step forward.
As the two men sat in silence, Clark became painfully aware of how intimate this scene was. His mouth ran dry and his heart skipped a beat. Think good thoughts. Think good thoughts. Clark repeated to himself. Think holy thoughts. He shuddered a breath.
When he made his vows as a priest, Clark promised to lead a life of chastity. Saving his body for God. At the time, it felt like the best decision to make. There wasn’t going to be anyone who could make him question his sexuality…
”It’s getting late,” Clark nearly croaked.
Bruce nodded, getting the message. He stood up, bowl still in hand.
“I can take that,” Clark said as he grabbed the bowl from Bruce. His heart beating rapidly. “It’s my turn to do the dishes anyways.”
Bruce responded with a nod and walked out, not even saying goodbye before closing Clark’s door. Clark set the bowl to the side and leaned back against his bed.
Maybe I need to go to confession again.
“Bless me, Father; for I have sinned. My last confession was…yesterday. I have come again to confess, once again, the same sin as yesterday," Clark said in a dilapidated voice. Clark hunched forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he hung his head low. His dark brown hair falling in front of his face in loose curls.
”It is better to be struggling with the same sin than a new one,” the priest responded. The two priests were sitting side-by-side in a pew. The sun shining through the intricate stain-glass depicting the resurrection.
“You say that every time.” Hues of purple and gold dancing across Clark’s skin as he looks up at the work of art before him.
“And I mean it every time.”
Clark wasn’t like the others in the Order of Justice because Clark was an ordained priest. The others took up the cloth as a way of distinguishing themselves as people who are fighting the dark demonic forces of this world.
“God does not give us a fight we cannot win,” the priest responded. He was an old man, having been at this parish for a long time. He had heard and received many confessions, he had seen the depths of human depravity and still somehow believed in a universal good.
“But what if…I don’t want to fight.”
”We are not perfect. We were not meant to be so. I am not going to pretend I know what God is thinking or why he puts us in difficult situations. But I trust God. And I trust you.”
Clark took a deep breath. “I-,” Clark paused as he imagined Bruce. Sitting on his bed. Eating his food. Warmed by his fire. His eyes half-lidded and his mouth supple.
A shiver ran down Clark’s spine. “I don’t trust myself.”
”Pray the rosary. And pray for peace.”
”Yes Father.” Clark takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair. The rosary around his neck dangling. It was made for him as a gift from one of the children he saved. The beads were all different colors and he had to re-string it a few times after it kept falling apart.
“My God,” Clark began the prayer.
”I am sorry for my sins with all my heart…In-“ he paused for a moment. “Choosing to do wrong and failing to do good. I have sinned against you, whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend…” he took another deep breath. “With your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid…” his mouth felt drier than a desert. “Whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. In his name, my God, have mercy.”
Clark sat back up. And yet, he felt…worse than before. Like the weight of the world was pressing down on his chest and each breath was a struggle. Within his heart, he used to imagine a field of sunflowers for as far as the eye could see. But now, all he could imagine were fields of thorns. And in the center was him, broken and bleeding.
“God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit Amen.” The priest laid a reassuring hand on Clark’s shoulder.
“Amen,” Clark whispered.
“So, how has the good fight been?” The priest asked.
”We are tracking an ancient vampire that has recently been detected in the city. We will be going out tonight to find them.”
”Well,” the two men stood up. “I will be praying for your and the others safety. The public doesn’t realize how close they are to evil.”
Clark nodded. “Yeah, we have to keep them safe.”
The priest places a hand on Clark's forehead. “May the risen Son be your guide. No matter where the journey may lead. No matter how far away. May the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.”
“Thank you Father John,” Clark said with a weak smile.
The two men gave brief smiles before Clark turned toward the exit, briefly taking a glance at a stained glass piece depicting the martyrdom of Saint Sebastian. He had a long night ahead of him.
The mission was a disaster. They were able to track down the ancient vampire, a woman with a penchant for plants. But when it mattered most…Clark was distracted. His mind ventured elsewhere.
The cloudless Metropolis night morphed into a battlefield of emotions. Thoughts of Bruce filling his head. The others noticed that there was something wrong with Clark, but they stayed silent. Though Clark knew they must have blamed him for losing her trail. She and Clark had a quick encounter, her ability to use magic to summon plants surprised the priest and she even managed to get a few hits on him before she ran off.
But there was something in her eyes, the way she looked at him, that felt…
Afterwards, Clark went straight to his room, not even bothering to join the post-mission debrief. He had messed up. He had faltered. He had never done that before. His mind was always in the game. Always focused.
He was the strong one. The one that everyone could depend on. And yet, his trust in himself was waning. In his mind, it wasn’t fair to the others that these…thoughts were clouding his judgement. His ability to perform and rid the world of evil. Of sin.
He knelt down in front of his bed. His fingers ran over the beads of his rosary. His body tense and his breathing tight.
”Hail, Mary, full of grace,” he twisted a bead between his forefinger and thumb. “The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.” He paused before finishing the prayer.
“A-“ he was cut off by a loud noise. Well, loud to him. He usually tried not to pay too much attention to what was happening around him during prayer, but he recognized the sound of those footsteps.
”Amen,” he quickly finished. He wasn’t done yet. He still had a ways to go. But his heart screamed at him to defy his own logic and get up prematurely.
He knew he shouldn’t. He knew he needed to continue praying and asking for peace and ruminating on the mysteries. But…
Before he could register what he was doing, he was already in the hallway. In front of Bruce’s room. Bruce gave him a long stare. His cassock and cape weren't soaked this time. His black hair fluffy. Touchable.
Clark tried hard to push away the thoughts of running his fingers through the man's hair. Cupping his head in his hands and leaning forward to give him a-
“How was the mission?” Bruce asked.
Right. The mission. “She got away. It was the first time I’ve met a vampire that could control plants”
Bruce let out a huff. “She could be half vampire, or maybe she studied under a wizard.”
Bruce’s brow furrowed, his body stilling.
”Yeah, that was my guess too.” Clark tried to hide his inner turmoil, not at all realizing the war going on inside Bruce.
Bruce made a choking sound, his eyes wide and his hands twitching. In an instant he bolted off, running into his room and slamming the door behind him.
“Bruce? Are you ok?” Clark asked, worried.
”I-“ Bruce gritted his teeth.
Clark had been cut in his spat with the ancient vampire. His mind was so clouded that he didn’t even notice the tiny cut on the back of his neck. Normal vampires and monsters couldn’t ever hurt Clark. But ancient vampires were different. If Clark knows he’s been injured, he can just focus some energy at the cut and it will quickly heal, but he had no idea.
Bruce was also so consumed with his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the sweet tantalizing aroma until he was face to face with the Kryptonian. Bruce had a very strong resolve, but Clark was someone blessed by the sun god. Someone imbued with so much divine power that he nearly glowed.
He knew he should have gone back to the manor the day before while he was in Gotham. Alfred always made sure to keep lots of blood bags in stock in case Bruce ever returned and needed to feed. But his mission took longer than expected and he didn’t want to miss the last train of the night to Metropolis.
“If you are not feeling well I can heal you!” Clark shouted as he lightly knocked on Bruce’s door. Clark's worry skyrocketed when he could hear a retching sound coming from inside. “I’m coming in. If you are sick I can-“
”Don’t!” Bruce shouted. His control over his own body was fading fast. He needed to get out of there before he did something he was going to regret. Though, a part of him wondered if he should just let Clark learn the truth since Clark could easily kill him and end his curse.
Clark turned the knob enough to break the door and force his way in. Bruce silently cursed at the priest's strength and ran toward the window. His breath heaving.
“Bruce-“
“Stay back!” Bruce growls.
”Just tell me what’s wrong. You can trust me.” Clark took a few tentative steps forward.
For a moment, Bruce tries to regain control, but it was fruitless. In a last ditch attempt to escape, he opened his window and placed his right foot on the windowsill while gripping the frame. He just needed to get back to the manor.
“I need to go back home, I will be back in the morning,” Bruce said as he hoisted himself up onto the windowsill.
A pang of sadness bloomed in Clark’s heart. His friend didn’t trust him. He was running away from him. He didn’t want him to heal him. Without thinking, Clark grabbed Bruce’s wrist, forcing Bruce to twist his body toward him.
”Please, just tell me what’s wrong,” Clark begged bashfully. His eyes downcast, embarrassed for his own actions.
“Let me go!” Bruce yelled as he struggled to get himself out of Clark’s grip. The man was strong. “I will return in the morning.”
”Just…Just tell me where it hurts,” Clark begs, tears threatening to fall. He focuses some of his divine power into the hand that is holding onto Bruce. He hoped that it could help his friend with whatever sickness he had.
Bruce screamed. The divine power felt like molten lava surging through his veins. Or like being stabbed a thousand times over. He stumbled backwards and fell onto the floor of his room. Clark knelt down next to him, still holding his wrist firm.
That’s when Clark saw it. Before, Bruce’s face had been hidden by the shadow of his cloak. But this was unmistakable.
Stark white-silver hair. Red eyes. Bruce’s mouth was open in a silent scream, showing off his protruding fangs.
Vampire.
Vampire.
Oh God, he’s a vampire.
Clark let go of Bruce’s wrist as if it had stung him. “You-you’re a-a-a,” Clark stuttered.
The pain from the divine power finally subsided and Bruce was able to think clearly again. Instead of trying to escape again, he sat there in silence.
“How is that possible? I-I’ve been with you in the sun before. I-you wear a cross for Christ sake. You-“
Bruce cleared his aching throat. The sweet lull of Clark’s blood made his fangs ache and his throat itch. “I was born this way. Ancient vampire. Pureblood…” Bruce contemplated whether to admit the source of his anguish. “You have a cut. On your neck. I need to go back to the manor. My control,” he ran his tongue over the tip of his fangs. “Is slipping.”
Vampire. The word repeated in Clark’s mind. But then, as if a ray of sun was shining through the rain, he realized something. Bruce wanted his blood. Bruce wanted him. Bruce was like this because of him. And in some twisted way, Clark liked that. His friend was like this because he wanted so deeply to drink his blood. His heart fluttered. He knew it was wrong. He should be upset. He should tell the others. He should purify Bruce like he had done to so many vampires before. But the idea of having the man's fangs in his neck, his body flush against his own, the two breathing in tandem, felt like bliss. Felt like sin.
At that moment, Clark knew Father John was wrong. Because in no world would he ever be able to resist this temptation.
This fantasy.
This sin.
Like the sun descending into the horizon as the moon rises to take its place. Like an angel falling from heaven into the darkest depths of depravity. If this was bad, then Clark no longer wanted to be good. Clark opened his mouth. “My blood did this to you?”
Appalled by that question, Bruce glared at Clark. The answer was obvious, but that was not what bothered Bruce. What bothered him was the slight enjoyment in Clark’s tone. As if he had been waiting for this very moment. As if he wanted Bruce to admit, with his own mouth, his desire for the Kryptonian.
“That much is obvious,” Bruce responded. He wasn’t about to admit his desire and speak into existence the hunger and lust that pooled deep in his stomach.
Bruce stood up and brushed himself off. He contemplated going back through the main hall to get to the entrance of the rectory, but it would be too risky. His only option was to jump out of the window and make the trek back to Gotham, or call Alfred to pick him up. The last train of the night had already left and Bruce would need to use the last of his control to use his powers to get to Gotham.
“You don’t need to do that. You can go out the front door. No one is near there.” Clark bit his lip. “I won’t tell the others. You can trust me.”
Bruce scoffed. “Hah, trust. Trust is what gets you killed.”
”It’s my blood you want, right?” Clark blurted out.
For a moment, Bruce imagined his shard fangs against Clark’s soft unmarked neck. He shook his head, forcing down those feelings.
“You-you can drink my blood,” Clark said almost too fast.
A low rumble reverberated in Bruce’s chest, Clark felt it in his bones.
“Is this just some game to you? You think,” Bruce whipped around and bared his fangs at Clark. The priest was taken aback by the sudden aggression. “You think I don’t want to? I am at war with myself right now. It is taking every ounce of control I have to not sink my fangs into your neck. This isn’t some game. This isn’t some mission. This isn’t some joke. You know I am a vampire now, so what’s next? Are you going to kill me? Have me drink your blood so that one of them can walk in on us. See me for the monster I really am.”
Clark stepped closer. “No. I could never kill you. You are-“
“Stop that,” Bruce cut him off. Clark was walking toward him. Closing the distance.
And Clark, Bruce realized in horror, looked almost drunk. His eyes half-lidded. His body tense in some parts and way too loose in others. He wanted him. Not as a friend or as an extension of God. No. Clark wanted Bruce in a way that was carnal.
Bile threatened to spew up through Bruce’s esophagus. He needed to get out of there before his stomach turned in on itself. Before he broke down the invisible wall that separated the two men and held the priest in his arms like a savior; a lover.
That tantalizing scent grew stronger. Bruce’s eyes focused in on Clark’s hand that was now out-stretched toward him. Clark had bitten as hard as he could to draw up blood.
“What are you-you’re crazy!” He slapped Clark’s hand out of the way.
”Drink.”
”No no no no I am not going to hurt you. I am not going to drink from you. It could kill you. It could turn you. Do you want to be a monster like this forever?” Bruce was visibly shaking. His desire to grab the priest's hand and bring the delicate skin up to his mouth was winning against his resolve.
“Drink,” Clark begged. “I want to help you.” The last part felt like a lie, but he already felt like a damned sinner the second he imagined those fangs in his skin. The glistening white enamel puncturing him, marking him, and drinking from him his very life force. An absolution. The final surrender to his depraved human desires.
He wondered why he was blessed with so much divine power if he was not strong enough to stand up against a singular vampire. A vampire who he had been fantasizing about for months. Years; if he is being honest. The demon that had been calling to him in dreams and leaving him in a cold sweat.
The monster that he had been sworn to protect the world against, that he had sworn to protect himself against, was going to break his skin and defile his sanctity. And Clark wouldn’t have it any other way.
If it was someone else, then he would have acted rationally. He would have approached this whole revelation with logic and reason. Telling the vampire that he would need to be purified of his curse and rid from the world. But this was Bruce. And Bruce was different. He was the moon, pulling the tides of Clark’s heart. Unintentionally soaking into Clark’s every waking moment. Even in sleep he cannot resist the moon's pull.
Against his better judgement, Bruce grabbed Clark’s outstretched palm and lifted it up to his mouth. The aroma pushing him into a state of euphoria. His fangs ached. His body ached. He shuddered a breath and slowly licked the small cut.
Clark’s breath hitched and he had to look away. It took everything in him to keep himself from making any vulgar noises. Whatever barrier that had been up between the two had come crashing down. In a crescendo.
The sound of Bruce suckling on his hand drifted into Clark’s ears like an aria. Clark almost wanted to laugh at how fast he fell from grace. How fast he found himself begging a vampire to suck his blood. What would the others think? What would the public think?
Clark imagined his broken sin ridden body paraded around like a warning for the temptation of evil. A martyr turned pariah.
The deep desires that he had been trying to hide coming to the forefront. He understood then when Eve must have felt when she was presented with the forbidden fruit. How Adam must have felt following her off the cliff of paradise and jumping head first into the valley of the shadow of death.
“I need,” Bruce whispered, but Clark could hear it as clearly as a scream. Bruce’s eyes focused in on Clark’s jugular. The sound of the priest's heart beating calling to him like a siren song. As if he had been stranded out in the vast ocean and he had for once come upon land. Fertile land. Fruitful land.
“Take it, take me.” Clark pushed off the hood of Bruce’s cloak and ran his fingers up the underside of the vampire’s head, urging him closer.
Bruce didn’t need to be told twice. He descended upon Clark like a hungry beast. Licking a line up his jugular, savoring the taste of his skin. He bit hard.
Clark threw his head back and stared up at the ceiling. It wasn’t as painful as he thought. Bruce wrapped his arms around Clark, caging him in, like a predator refusing to let his prey go. Their bodies flush against each other. The only sound and movement was Bruce's mouth on his neck.
A part of Clark’s mind wondered if he would regret this later. If he would come running to Father John and immediately confess his sins. He wondered what his fellow priest would say. Wondered if he would judge him. Wondered if he would see Clark for who he is, for what he is, instead of seeing what the Kryptonian could be. See him as a flawed human and not as a heaven sent savior.
Clark mindlessly ran his fingers through Bruce’s hair. It was almost soothing. He still wasn’t sure if being bitten by Bruce would turn him into a vampire and rid him of all of his divine power, but he was still willing to take the risk.
After a couple minutes, Clark pulls himself out of Bruce’s grip and places a firm hand on his chest, gently pushing him. A small growl vibrates against Clark’s skin and he rolls his eyes and smiles.
“That is enough-“ Clark almost slipped and called Bruce ‘baby’. Sweetheart. Lover. His one and only. The air in his lungs. The blood in his veins. The person that tempted him out of the Garden of Eden.
Bruce withdrew his fangs and stood back. Blood dripped down his chin and he stuck out his tongue trying to get every last drop. Bruce felt strong. Stronger than ever. He quickly turned his hair back to black and his eyes back to blue. His fangs retracted back into his mouth and he looked human, if it wasn’t for the blood. And the deep lust in his gaze that can only be described as monstrous.
Though, unbeknownst to Bruce, a thin ring of gold shone brightly against the blue of his eyes.
Clark held up a hand to his bleeding neck and used some of his divine power to heal it. “I guess you can’t turn me into a vampire.” Clark was relieved, but only slightly. The idea of being Bruce’s thrall made his heart stutter.
The two stared in silence. A tense silence. Both wanting to say the same thing but neither having the courage to do so.
Clark took the initiative and closed the distance. His lips were on Bruce’s and he tasted the lingering coppery liquid. Bruce gave in immediately, opening his mouth in a strangled gasp.
If he hadn’t gone against his vows before, he definitely went against them now.
And it felt like heaven.
Like he was at home.
Like he was safe and loved.
Like he was seen.
Like he was accepted for who he was.
Who he always was.
Who he was made to be.
Not beta read.
I am not Catholic so I had to do some research for this. Let me know if I got anything wrong! I’m not sure how long this series will be-maybe only a few parts-but I at least have the entire plot written down already. I am also waiting for my AO3 invite so that I can cross post my fics and essays on there.
For people who follow me for my essays: I am still working on my next one! I hope to post it within the next two weeks since I will be going on a short hiatus (probably) at the beginning of August.
Sam: Hey Dean check this out. Apparently there has been a lot of demon activity reported in Seoul South Korea. An entire train full of people went missing. And there are other reports too
Dean: You know I don’t do planes Sammie. You remember the last time I was on a plane.
Sam: But get this, according to the lore, each generations for centuries there are these musical demon hunters that create this thing called a ‘Honmoon’.
Dean: And?
Sam: Something must have happened. I think we need to go over there and check this out.
Dean: How are we going to get there Sammie? By boat?
Sam: We have to help them turn the Honmoon gold, Dean. Or else the world will be filled with demons.
Cas: You know, I could fly you over there. Well maybe-
Dean: I would rather be on a plane than strapped to your back over the pacific ocean. *sigh* How many credit cards would it take to charter a private jet?
Sam: *smirks* Looks like we’re going to Seoul
—-
This was inspired by a TikTok by probablyscott. If someone has already done this, let me know and I can take this down :) I will be back to my normal content soon.
Now that I got that out of the way, here is my review of the new Superman (2025) movie. It is pro-Palestine, anti-war, anti-big business, anti-far right, anti anti immigration, and more.
From this point on there will be massive spoilers. I will basically be describing the entire movie in detail and giving some analysis at the end. If you just want to see just the analysis then you can skip to the end.
Synopsis:
I went into this movie just hoping to get more content for my SuperBat fics, but I was pleasantly surprised by how genuinely good and moving the movie was. It comes as no surprise to me that right leaning people did not like the movie. For coming out of a multi-million dollar franchise, which at times could have been described as thinly veiled pro-government and pro-America propaganda, this movie is able to show all the negative aspects of big business, war, online hate, and anti-immigration sentiments.
The movie begins with Superman’s first defeat against The Hammer of Boravia. He is taken to his ice fortress by Kryto (a super dog with a cape) where he is healed by semi-sentient robots who replay the message that his parents sent him with from Krypton. Superman listens to this same video clip/audio of his parents expressing their love for him and wishing for him to be a savior for the people of Earth. Superman is healed by the sun and he returns to fight The Hammer once again.
The person calling the shots for The Hammer of Boravia is Lex Luthor and LexCorp in general. (Though the public does not know this, the audience learns the truth about the fight against Superman early on.) But The Hammer of Boravia is stronger than any enemy that Superman has gone up against and Superman is once again smashed into the ground as public sentiment for the alien hero sours.
Prior to the events of the movie, Superman had intervened to keep the country of Boravia from invading their neighboring country Jarhanpur. And Lex Luthor as well as others, go on a campaign to make the public distrust Superman for it. Granted, we do learn from Clark’s interview with Lois that he basically kidnapped and tortured the president of Boravia to keep him from invading Jarhanpur. Clark does not see it this way, obviously, he sees it as a sort of necessary evil in order to try and protect the people of Jarhanpur and to keep the war from escalating. Lois tries to explain to Clark that what his intentions are doesn’t matter in the face of public opinion. That since Clark acted alone and was theoretically a representative of the United States that he was over stepping his bounds as a super human.
At the same time as all of this is going on, public opinion for super or meta humans is souring. People are debating whether meta humans should be allowed the same rights and freedoms as ‘regular’ humans.
The real turning point of the whole movie comes when Lex Luthor and his gang hack into Clark’s ice fortress and are able to obtain the original, slightly destroyed, recording that Clark’s parents sent with him. And in the part of the recording that Clark had never seen because it was broken, his parents tell him to take over Earth and be their king and to have a large harem of wives so that Clark can spread his superior genes to the dumb weak Earthlings. (I am being serious, that is not an exaggeration)
Lex Luthor obviously leaks this footage to the press and everyone turns on Superman. Even Clark starts doubting everything since he genuinely believed that his parents sent him to Earth to help them not to subjugate them. Rumors start spreading of Superman having a harem and the president (or dictator?) of Boravia does a statement where he says that Superman intervened in the war because Superman liked the way that Boravian women looked and wanted to add more to his harem.
The audience obviously knows that Superman doesn’t have a harem and that all these things that people are saying about him are fake. But the public in the movie doesn’t know. Everyone, even people that knew Superman personally like the Justice Gang turned on Superman.
Clark decides to turn himself as Superman over to the police because when he went back to the ice fortress after Lex Luthor and his gang were there, Krypton was missing and Superman wanted to figure out where the dog was.
Once in police custody, they take him to a military base with a portal to a pocket dimension that Luthor created where Luthor stores all the people he doesn’t like or wants to use. There we see that they are studying Krypto and Luthor says that once they understand how a Super Dog works then they will kill him (the dog). Superman is very upset about this, but he is in a cage with someone who is able to turn their body into an organic matter including kryptonite.
While suffering the effects of kryptonite, Luthor brings out someone that Superman had talked to once and had given him a falafel named Mali and Luthor plays Russian roulette with the man and the man dies after the second attempt. The man inside the cage with Superman, Metamorpho, who turned his hand into Kryptonite starts crying after having witnessed the innocent man die. Also, the innocent mans last words were “I believe in you Superman” (or something adjacent to that, I am doing all of this from memory)
Metamorpho’s baby was being held by Lex Luthors men in the cell in front of them and Superman tells Metamorpho that he will rescue his child if he gets rid of the krytonite. After having witnessed the innocent man die, Metamorpho gets rid of the kryptnoite but Superman is still unable to move, he needs the power of the sun to keep him going. So Metamorpho makes a mini sun and Superman is able to regain his powers and he rescues Metamorpho’s baby and Krypton and him, Metamorpho, Krypton try to get out of the pocket diemension without falling into a black hole but they are being attacked by Lex Luthor’s men. (I am a little bit hazy on this part but I think it was Lex’s men that are attacking him).
Meanwhile, Lois is trying to figure out where Superman went and how to save him. One of her colleagues at the Daily Planet, Jimmy Olsen, says that he has an inside source that says that Superman is in a pocket dimension. We later learn that this inside source is the bimbo-esque arm candy that Lex Luthor is dating/keeping around. The woman whose name is Eve Teschmacher, really wants to be with Jimmy but she is stuck being with Lex Luthor. Eve’s dream is to one day be able to run away with Jimmy and spend at least a whole weekend with him.
Lois takes the info that Superman might be in a pocket universe to the Justice Gang (Green Lantern, Mister Terrific, and Hawkgirl) (Also it is important to note that the Justice Gang is a corporate superhero squad.) And because of all the things they learned about Superman and all of the negative public sentiment about him (Also we learn that in the pocket universe Lex Luthor is using trained monkeys to write terrible things about Superman online and all of the hate and negative hashtags about Superman were coming from these monkeys paid for by Lex Luthor)
However, Mister Terrific put some nano bots (?) in Superman’s blood and was able to track him to a military base but isn’t able to see where he went after that and Mister Terrific would know if Superman died so he’s not dead. Mister Terrific and Lois go to the military base and Mister Terrific is able to take down most of the people there and turn on the portal. But they have no way of getting around while inside the pocket dimension so Mister Terrific uses his spheres to try and find Superman where he finds Superman, Metamorpho, Metamorpho’s baby, and Krypto trying not to get into a black hole.
Eventually they all make it out of the pocket dimension but the portal they used is incredibly damaged and Mister Terrific stressed that it is incredibly ill advised for Lex Luthor to have created a pocket dimension at all since it could destroy the very fabric of reality.
Superman returns back home to Kansas with Lois in order to heal and recuperate. There are heartfelt scenes between Clark’s Earthly parents and him and Lois. Clark’s dad is also very emotional and doesn’t want Clark to be hurt or anything. And Clark talks to them about the message from his biological parents and they tell Clark that his reason for being here originally isn’t what matters, whether he really was sent to Earth to subjugate it or to help it, all that matters is what he does.
Mister Terrific then tells Clark that Lex Luthor opened up a rift in the fabric of reality that was going to tear the world in half and it started in Metropolis, and people had to be evacuated. At the same exact time, Boravia is going to invade Jarhanpur again. Boravia has 80 billion dollars worth of military assets and the country of Jarhanpur doesn’t have much if anything to defend itself with.
This puts Superman in a tight spot where he has to decide whether to save Metropolis or Jarhanpur. The people and specifically the children in Jarhanpur put up a flag of Superman’s S and the people start shouting for him. And at the last moment when all hope seems lost and Superman is not going to come, the Justice Gang (including Metamorpho but excluding Mister Terrific) arrives and protects the people of Jarhanpur against the Boravian military.
When Superman first got out of the pocket dimension, Lex Luthor gets really upset and throws a pencil at Eve. Eve gets really upset and calls Jimmy and tells him that she has enough info on Lex to take him down and is crying and telling Jimmy that once Lex is out of the picture she wants to be with him. At first it seems that all that Eve sends is selfies of herself, but in each of those selfies are contracts, documents, maps, proof of what Lex Luthor is doing and what his goal is (which is taking over Jarhanpur and creating his own country where he can be king.)
Lois, Jimmy, and the other people at the Daily Planet take this info and write a story on all of the evil deeds of Lex Luthor.
Superman goes after Lex himself and that’s when Lex sends Ultraman on Superman (Ultraman was also disguised as The Hammer of Boravia in the beginning of the movie) Ultraman always seems to be one step ahead of Superman and is able to counter all of Superman’s attacks (That is also because Lex is controlling Ultraman by telling him what to do) The fight is heated and Lex tells Superman (through a communication device in Ultramans chest) that brains will always win over brawn. Right when Superman might be killed by Ultraman, Superman whistles for Krypto and the dog destroys the floating cameras that Lex was using to tell Ultraman what to do. With little to no input from Lex, Ultraman was weak and didn’t know what to do. After another fight, Ultramans mask comes off and we learn that Ultraman is Superman’s clone and that is how Lex was able to get into the ice fortress.
Lex recounts how he created a clone of Superman but that the clone was dumb and so Lex needed to tell it what to do but the clone at least was strong and had all the same powers as Superman.
The reality rift is starting to get further past Metropolis into other cities and Lex’s people are begging him to close the rift and Lex says he’ll close it once the rift actually gets to a city that he cares about. Then they decide to jump ship and go through a portal into the pocket dimension but then Superman tackles Lex.
Superman calls Lex out for being envious of him and Lex is like you think I don’t know that. You think I don’t know that I am consumed by envy. Lex goes onto give such an amazing villain monologue about how Lex hates Superman because Superman is everything that he personally lacks. Lex spent so much time and money building his empire and Superman was loved immediately the second he showed up. And no matter how much he tried Lex could never BE Superman because Superman isn’t even human. He comes from another planet. Lex really did almost everything he did in hopes that he could kill Superman.
But at the same time, the article about everything that Lex has done is published and the public opinion goes against him. The same news hosts that praised Lex are now saying that they were duped and that they had no idea of all of his misdeeds before having him on. Public opinion has swayed in Superman’s favor.
Lex gets put into custody and Superman is praised. Superman decides to give Lois an ‘interview’ where they disappear into a building and kiss.
Superman goes back to the ice fortress and the robots are helping him when his cousin Super Girl shows up drunk and calls Superman a bitch while taking back her dog Krypto (Super Girl has been traveling to planets with red suns so that she can get drunk and party.) The robots ask Superman if he wants to watch the message from his parents again and he says yes. But this time its not his Kryptonian parents, its his Earthly parents and it shows clips of Clark growing up in the small town in Kansas with his family and it was honestly so moving it nearly brought me to tears.
----------------------------------------------
Analysis:
There is quite literally so much so say about this movie that I am sure I am going to forget to mention some things. Like I said before, I had limited expectations, how much can you really expect by a big budget film in this current day and age? But I quickly went from pleasantly surprised to completely moved.
First, Lex Luthor is quite obviously working with the US government and the US government is backing the Boravian government. This is seen through the fact that Lex meets with top US officials and how the US is letting Lex have a pocket dimension portal on their military base.
So already we see that the government is in the pocket of this huge multi-billion dollar corporation which might as well be the DC version of Lockheed Martin. And the government already has a lot of anti meta human and super human sentiment which is seen explicitly when Superman gets arrested and they don't read him any rights stating that since he was not born on Earth or in America he has no rights and they can basically do whatever they want with him. They then hand him over to Lex Luthor.
The Jarhanpur is very similar to Palestine and I have seen creators on TikTok already show some very similar imagery and references. (Which would in turn make Boravia Israel. Though I know people will be calling this a stretch, it is surprising to see any anti US backed government sentiment in a major film right now.)
Before the movie even begins, Superman had helped Jarhanpur in stopping an invasion from Boravia. When he is having the mock interview with Lois, she says that Jarhanpur is a country run by terrorists and Clark immediately cuts her off and says that innocent people were going to die. Implying that the Boravian government doesn't actually care about fighting terrorists, they want to completely annihilate Jarhanpur even innocent civilians and Superman wasn't going to stand for that. And then Lois says that Boravia just wants to help Jarhanpur and get rid of the terrorists and Clark gets mad and tells her that's not true. And Lois responds saying she doesn't know that for sure since she is just a journalist.
Also, Boravia did a whole smear campaign against Superman and once they had the dirt of the extra video footage the leader of Boravia claimed that Superman was just trying to do all of this so that he could steal/seduce Boravian women.
In the end of the movie, the people of Jarhanpur are up against a very strong military and country that is funded by the US government and LexCorp and their literal only hope is that Superman would save them. They raise his insignia as a sign of hope. Hope that someone would help them and hope that someone still cared. With public sentiment increasingly pro Boravia, Jarhanpur had nothing to hope for other than the impossible.
That is because Superman is a symbol of hope for people that need it the most. He doesn't weaponize that hope, he doesn't monetize it, he goes where he is needed. He doesn't do this out of political or ideological affiliation, he does it because someone needs to and he can. And the hope that Jarhanpur had paid off when the Justice Gang came to help them. Superman may have been busy fighting his clone, but he still made sure the innocent people of Jarhanpur didn't have to die senselessly. That their child didn't have to die for a war that they didn't even start.
When Lex does his whole envy monologue, he says that he sees in Superman everything that he isn't. But that's not true. Superman isn't proof of humanity's weakness, it is proof of its possibilities. Superman may be able to do more than anyone else, but anyone could be Superman. Anyone can be a symbol of hope. And we see it in how at the end Mali turns into a symbol of hope as well. Even in the face of death, Mali still believed in Superman. Still believed that there was still good in the world.
And at the end when Superman is back in the ice fortress he doesn't look at the message his biological parents sent him, because that wasn't who he was. He wasn't just some alien from Krypton, he was Clark Kent. Raised by John and Martha Kent in Kansas. Just as much as this movie was about hope for others, it was about hope for Superman himself. He learned how to see himself as he is and not as he was possibly meant to be.
I also really liked how Krypto is arguably a bad dog, he is an ankle biter and destroys things and is reactive, but Clark turn himself into the government just so that he could figure out where Krypto was. He even admits to Lois that he's not even a good dog, and Krypto isn't even Clark's dog at all, but that he needed to make sure the dog was safe. I think this also ties back to how Superman is willing to save anyone, even if that thing or animal isn't necessarily good. He was willing to stand up and protect a country that is seen as just a bunch of terrorists. He is willing to put his life on the line for a dog that can barely respond to a command and often destroys parts of his ice fortress.
Another aspect I liked was how there were a lot of scenes of men being vulnerable. I wish there was more of this in media in general so I was pleasantly surprised to see men crying and you could also consider Lex's envy monologue him being vulnerable as well.
Lastly (for now, I will probably add more later), I loved Eve's character and how she is presented as this stereotypical bimbo character who only cares about taking selfies and her looks but its revealed that she was actually using all of her selfies as evidence to use against Lex so that she can live the life she wants to live.
Anyways, I really love the movie and I will be watching it again :)
It started as a light curiosity. Bruce rarely concerned himself with the dealings of the other heroes, but it started to annoy him that Superman kept doing interviews with this one specific reporter at the Daily Planet.
It was only a light curiosity. Nothing to lose sleep over. Nothing to brood on. Just a lingering question like a wisp of smoke, sometimes transparent and sometimes as dense as a cloud, but it followed him. Like a curse.
That must be it, a curse. This Clark Kent, this nobody, this random guy from Kansas who just so happened to have a pretty face was always interviewing Superman. Bruce scoffed as he read the latest article about Superman saving a small town.
Once again, Superman had done an interview with this reporter. Right after. Were they lovers?
Bruce shook his head. It's not like it matters....but if it did matter then he would tell Superman that its reckless to be dating a reporter. How could he trust this guy? They must be a thing... Bruce concluded.
Which is fine. Completely fine. Bruce repeated to himself like a prayer. As if trying to reassure himself.
But no matter how many times he repeated those words in his head, his chest still felt tight. Was it jealousy? Envy? Bruce could have anyone he wanted...any woman he wanted. Men were different.
He never really cared about people romantically. Maybe it was side effect of never being taught how to love properly by his late parents, but he figured no one would be good enough for him. Or rather, that he would never be good enough for anyone.
And yet, here Superman was flaunting his relationship without a care in the world. As if he wanted to get found out. As if he didn't care. Why doesn't he care?
Bruce never learned how to truly depend on anyone, and maybe that was another reason why he hated the idea of a stable relationship. He had many flings, of course, to keep up his image as a desirable playboy billionaire. It was just to keep up appearances, he never felt anything for any of those women. If anything, he felt bad for them, hoped that they expected nothing out of him.
Clark was handsome. At least he has good taste. But Superman could have anyone in the world and yet he chose a reporter from Kansas. What made him so special?
That's when the Galas started. Bruce always did a few a year for charity events, but all of a sudden Bruce was inviting everyone who was anyone to a Gala every month.
His first plan was to just get an exclusive interview with this Clark Kent but every time he tried the Daily Planet had someone else do it. He couldn't overtly ask for Clark, that would be too much. People would start questioning his intentions. He needed it to be natural. Organic.
A meet-cute at a Gala called to him like a lighthouse. A blinking fortress reminding Bruce that he was so close to land. All he needed was for Clark to come. But the paper never sent him.
Each Gala, Bruce would request that there would be a reporter there to write about it. The Daily Planet was happy to go...for the first 10. After that it started to feel excessive and they weren't sure if this was somehow a cry for help or as a way for Bruce to prove to people just how much money he had.
Bruce never centered him about money or extravagance like that. At least not to the public. And here he was spending millions of dollars on large lavish parties with ice imported from Norway, wine imported from Italy, etc. Each glass was expensive crystal and the drinks and food were always overflowing. The most popular musician of the month would headline the party.
And in the center of all of this was Bruce, smiling, thanking everyone for attending his party. Though, he was hard to find once the parties started. No one knew exactly where he went. There were some rumors that he was doing drugs or sleeping with women. Or maybe getting blackout drunk.
But the truth came in the form of him with his head in his hands, wondering why Clark still hasn't come. At this point, it had to be personal. He even tried to personally request an interview with the reporter but he was busy with an interview with Superman.
He stared at the crystal champagne flute on his desk. His rage boiled over as he flung the flute, making it crash against an expensive painting that Bruce couldn't care less about.
What was so special about this guy? What was so special about Superman?
Alfred silently picked up the pieces of the broken flute. Alfred had already advised Bruce many times against these parties, against trying to lure in the reporter. Though Bruce never voiced exactly why he was obsessed with the man, Alfred had his suspicions.
Finally Bruce cracked, he made it so that the only reporter available to come to the next Gala was Clark. Everyone else was either sick, busy, or dealing with an emergency.
He would finally reach land. Reach the lighthouse. Reach this blue-eyed pearl.
---
Clark didn't want to go to the party. He didn't like the obnoxious displays of wealth. And for some reason, Bruce Wayne kept wanting to have an interview with him. It made Clark feel uncomfortable. Why had the billionaire suddenly taken an interest in him? What was his plan?
One by one, his colleagues had something come up. A few were sick, a few were dispatched to other breaking news for the night, and a few had flat tires and couldn't make it in.
Clark wasn't dumb. He knew immediately that this was suspicious. Perry called him only a few hours before the Gala was supposed to start telling him that he was going to have to be the one to cover it. "Do we really need to keep attending? He has one every single month..." Clark droned on.
At first, everyone wanted to go to these lavish parties. But the glitz and glamour get old very fast. Each party bled into the next. The only real difference was the food and the music. Otherwise it was like playing a broken record.
Clark sighed. I guess it's time I finally meet him.
Lines of expensive cars lined Bruce's drive way and the street next to the manor. It might as well have been a car show with how expensive these cars were. And how rare as well. But Clark didn't care about all of these things.
Living in Metropolis meant that he didn't need a car. He could live simply in a nice studio apartment. He could live just like everyone else.
Clark was expecting Bruce to meet him at the door, but instead he was greeted by a song he knew. He didn't even think to check which band was playing. The Mighty Crabjoys. One of his favorite bands.
Clark stilled and looked around for whatever camera must be filming him but there was none. The band wasn't even that popular, especially not right now, and Bruce only paid for the most popular artists.
Well, if anything, Clark could enjoy some good music and some good food. He slowly walked into the manor and saw a bunch of celebrities walking toward a door that led outside. Clark followed, taking note of all the extravagant décor. Ice sculptures, flower arrangements, a photo station.
Staff walked past with small plates of food and drinks. Clark grabbed a drink and slowly sipped it as he stepped outside. The band looked out of place surrounded by the top celebs and a few corporate heroes.
Bottle girls carried bottles of champagne and sparklers. Dancers rocked out to the music while others took selfies.
Clark closed his eyes and reminded himself that it was just a part of the job. That he would just talk to Bruce a little bit and then he'll never have to come to one of these pretentious parties again.
"Do you like the music," a deep voiced asked behind him.
Clark whipped around and came face to face with Bruce Wayne. His smile was infectious, Clark had to give him that.
He didn't hate Bruce Wayne, he actually really admired the guy for all of his charitable efforts. Clark just didn't like people who threw their money away like it was nothing. Mentally, he was wondering how many people could be fed if Bruce instead put this money toward hunger relief.
"Ah yeah it's-uh-one of my favorite bands."
"Oh really? I had no idea. I heard them recently and thought it would be nice to have them here." Bruce looked from Clark's blue eyes and down to his mouth. He took a sharp inhale of breath that would have gone unnoticed to anyone, except Clark wasn't just anyone. He was Superman.
That confused Clark. He knew that Bruce had been trying to get an interview with him and he chalked it up to maybe a slight curiosity. It wasn't exactly subtle that he was the only one that could interview Superman and Clark had many people reach out to him about it and he ignored them all.
"How about-do you want to do an interview? It's kind of loud over here...I can show you to my study," Bruce tried desperately to say without his voice showing any sign of nervousness. Because truth be told, Bruce immediately knew what made Clark special.
It wasn't just his looks, though his looks did help a lot. His fluffy hair that would feel so nice through his fingers. His strong muscles that must have taken months if not years to curate. His black rimmed glasses that perfectly framed his face. His sharp jawline. His plump lips that looked almost kissable-
"Uh," Clark looked around. "Sure. It is not everyday that you get to interview someone...like you."
Bruce's heart fluttered, but he didn't let it show. He couldn't let it show. This was just a small curiosity. He just wanted to know what made Clark special and he figured it out. He saw it in the way the mans eyes lit up when he heard his favorite band. He saw it in his slight smile.
As if the entire world was moving in slow motion and it was just them. Just Bruce and Clark. The billionaire and the reporter.
Bruce led him to his study and leaned against his desk while sipping a glass of wine. Clark looked around the study. It was lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves. It had everything from Plato's Republic to Thoreau's Walden to Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations. And more. Each one a masterpiece in its own right.
"You like to read?" Clark asked as he was inspecting the books.
Bruce swirled the red liquid in his glass. "In my free time. I am a fan of the classics."
"Hmm," Clark hummed as he brushed dust off of the top of a copy of Jane Eyre. "This is quite a collection."
"Yes, well I have a wide variety of interests. What about you, what are you interested in?"
Maybe this was more than a slight curiosity, Clark thought.
"Well I just got a dog so he takes up a lot of my free time," Clark admitted.
"A dog?" None of Bruce's sources mentioned anything about a dog. He was going to need to investigate this later. "What breed?"
"He's a mutt. Not even that 'good' of a dog either. A real ankle biter." Clark pulled out a copy of Wuthering Heights and flipped through the pages.
"What's his name?" Bruce asked, wanting to keep this casual conversation flowing. It felt natural. That this is exactly how life was meant to be. Just two men enjoying each others company. That's all it is...right?
Clark didn't want to lie but he also couldn't tell Bruce that the dogs name was Krypto. "Max," Clark lied.
"Nice name. Once knew a great guy named Max. I think he ran an accounting firm out in Boston."
Clark nodded and shut the book. "So, should we do the interview?"
"Oh." Bruce placed his glass down a bit too forcefully. "Yeah what questions do you have for me?"
"Why did you start doing these Gala's?" Clark asked.
Bruce bit his lip. He never voiced it before. Never admitted why he started. But a part of him wanted to say that he did all of this for him. For Clark. That he wanted to get to know him better. And he needed an excuse for a reporter and him to meet.
"I guess life was getting a bit boring these days," Bruce lied with a smile. He pushed off from the desk and walked over to the window. People were still arriving. Bright smiles on their faces as they saw the grandeur of the manor.
"Hmm," Clark hummed in response. "How do you choose who to invite?"
Bruce didn't care who came to his parties. He just needed to make sure Clark came. He had his assistant send out invitations to whoever would come to a party. Because what's the point of an empty party. He needed to keep up the illusion.
"All I can say is that it's a long process. We invite celebrities, heroes, activists."
Clark nodded. "How do you feel about people calling you out online for wasting money on Gala's?"
Bruce let out a long breath. "I still donate the same amount I always have. The Wayne Foundation is still helping everyone in Gotham and beyond. That hasn't changed."
"But people are saying that the money you spend on these parties could-"
"How about we change the question?" Bruce asked with a smile.
"Okay..."
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a shard of glass. Neither men spoke, just absently staring at each other as if waiting for the other to say something.
"May I ask something off record Mr. Wayne?" Clark asked.
"You can just call me Bruce and sure. I am an open book." Bruce held out his arms as if to further his point.
"Why did you want me to interview you?"
Bruce blinked rapidly a few times, his brain catching up to what Clark had just asked. "Oh well," Bruce grabs his glass of wine and nearly downs it "I saw that you do a lot of interviews with Superman."
"That's true."
"Why do you do so many interviews with Superman?" Are you lovers? Does he hold you at night? Does he whisper sweet nothings into your ear?
"I guess you could say I know him personally. He is a friend of mine." Clark was choosing his words carefully. Lois had warned him that if he kept doing interviews with Superman that people would get suspicious. Maybe he should lay off some of the interviews for a bit. Maybe do a few with Lois or the others.
"Friends," Bruce repeated.
"Yeah I guess he likes the articles I write about him." Clark and Bruce were practically locked into a staring competition. Clark thinking that Bruce was trying to expose him and Bruce trying to figure out whether Clark and Superman are dating. The idea that Clark and Superman could be the same person never even passed through Bruce's mind.
"Well, I guess a reporter good enough for Superman is good enough for me. I was just curious. That's all." Bruce turned back on his charismatic persona.
"Yes, well I will be sure to write a...nice article about...this party." Clark wasn't sure what to say. He didn't like the Gala's but he wasn't about to trash Bruce Wayne. Clark hoped to find out why Bruce started having these all of a sudden, but he knew he probably wouldn't get the real answer out of the billionaire.
"Please do. Though you can write a bad one if you want to."
"Duly noted," Clark walked toward the door to the study. "I'll probably head out. Parties aren't really my thing."
Bruce smiled and tipped his glass. "Sounds good."
The door shut and Bruce stood in silence watching the door, hoping that Clark would come back.
"Get home safe."
The sound of fireworks going off rattles the manor.
---
Not beta read
I got this idea after seeing a TikTok of Bruce and Clark set to Charli xcx's party 4 u. Bruce is definitely Gatsby coded.
Part 3: Fanfiction/Fandom and Commercialization/Capitalism
Fanfiction is one of the last non-monetizable artforms, but this has not stopped the spread of commercialization. Fandom culture is also similar to gift-giving societies of antiquity. In this essay I will explore how capitalism intersects fanfiction/fandom and what, if anything, we should do to stop it. I highly suggest reading my essay on how capitalism negatively impacts our lives and self identity since it will help in understanding why people do the things they do. But you will still be able to read and understand this essay without reading the other one(s).
The next part of this series will be called “Fanfiction Through the Ages”, where I explore how fanfiction has always existed throughout history. It will include religious and non-religious references and will probably take a while for me to write since I will be doing a lot of research.
Thank you to everyone who interacts with my essays!!! (And everyone that reads my other things too!) All of yalls comments and likes are what keeps me writing these.
If you want me to write an essay on something that you are interested or confused about feel free to ask! They might not be long, but I am happy to try my best to answer people's questions.
(I am not a historian, anthropologist, or a philosopher so I may get things wrong. This is an opinion piece)
----------------------------------------------
The fandom and fanfiction exists on a weird crossroads of capitalism and community. Fanfiction, by design, cannot be monetized and thus the creators cannot make any money from their works. Instead of making art for the hope of later monetary profits, fanfiction authors create art for the love of the game and post their art to spread that love to the community. Because there is no monetary exchange happening in the fanfiction community (i.e. fanfictions aren’t behind paywalls, you don’t have to buy access to read them, etc.) the community has become more akin to a gift giving society where there is no expectation for reciprocation.
When talking about ancient civilizations, a lot of people draw up the image of bartering or trading, and though that did happen, there were many gift based societies. In this way, you would give something to someone else and in turn you would have things given to you by that person or others. In essence when you are hungry you would be fed and when others are hungry you would feed them. The gift becomes an extension of the self and also the person's placement relationship to society as whole.
In capitalist gifting situations, what gift someone gives or receives is dependent on their placement in the social hierarchy, but this is completely different in the fandom community. In Fandom, instead of there being social hierarchies based on money, power, gender, and status, everyone is on the same playing field. Any fanfic, fanart, etc. is a gift to the community at large. For the most part you can see, read, and interact with these things for free and the creator does not expect the people who are interacting with their posts to give them something in return for their hard work. The art itself is removed from the capitalist machine and loved and experienced as itself and not as an expensive piece.
In a capitalist society, art only has value or meaning if it is worth lots of money. But fandom subverts that. Art can be good and life changing without it costing anything. Without being a best seller or widely acclaimed. The meaning rests in the individual interpretation of the art instead of whether or not the art adds value to the capitalist machine.
We do not remember what life was like before capitalism, but I think that fanfiction is a gateway to understanding how art was interpreted and experienced during antiquity. And I believe it can also help us to understand what life could be like without capitalism.
When a creator on Tumblr answers someone’s ask and writes them a fic, story, headcanon, etc. they are giving both that person and everyone else that will interact with that ask a gift and there is no social expectation for reciprocation other than appreciation. Appreciation at its most fundamental level does not require money. You can show appreciation in many ways in life and online that don’t require anything other than someone's time and attention.
Another example of gift giving in the fandom community is Art Fight which even calls itself an “art gifting game”. Though there is a goal set for people to try and win and beat an opposing team, the fundamentals of Art Fight are based on community appreciation and interaction over money. This works because the fandom community already has the precedent to give gifts without the desire to have their gift reciprocated monetarily or socially. (though I am sure people would be upset if they drew a lot of other people characters and no one drew theirs)
In a capitalist society, if you give a gift to someone that is below you then you do not expect a gift back. Following that logic, if you give a gift to someone that is at your level or higher then you expect a gift or something tangible in return. But in the fandom community everyone is at the same level. The reason you do not expect a tangible gift in return is not because the person is below you but because the intangible is more important to this community.
Another facet of capitalism and how it affects our perception of art is how in capitalism time = money. A lot of people get paid hourly so the time they spend doing something can be equated to actual dollar amounts. But in the fandom community this idea is not as present. If someone is not as skilled at drawing/or does not spend as much time as others when drawing and they draw someone else's character, in a capitalist mindset that would be seen as a cheap or poor drawing, but in the community the OC’s creator is usually happy just for their character to be drawn.
Capitalism has a large focus on the tangible material world. And it also has a large focus on individualism (only you alone matter and that you should better your own life without regard to others or the environment). But these two things are not what makes life fulfilling for everyone. The beauty of fandom/fanfiction is its love of the intangible. It’s appreciation of human interaction over monetary gains.
Fandom itself comes from a shared love of something intangible (like fictional characters, fictional stories, etc.) instead of the love of the tangible (money, materials, goods, services, etc.). Though fandom cannot exist without some intersection with the tangible, it does not exalt the tangible the same way other communities do. For example, Bruce Wayne does exist tangibly, you can buy a figure, print, comic, etc. But he also exists in the intangible realm since he is fictional. We use the material plane to express our love, knowledge, desire, appreciation of the idea of him, but he does not exist as an entity in the tangible world. He is a thought, a creation that lives collectively in our minds instead of in the real world. He is a concept but is no less real to us. Even if someone who deeply loves his character becomes downtrodden, they can still hold on to the idea of him in their minds and their hearts. And in that way, the person still has something. If you love and interact with fandom and characters alike, you can never truly have nothing because you at least have the ideas of these characters with you in your imagination and your heart.
That is the foundation that fandom stands on. A shared collective love of the intangible over the tangible. A gift giving community where there is no expectation for reciprocation. There is no emphasis on money or even time. There is art and people who appreciate art.
When I was at my most recent convention, I participated in a large badge ribbon trading event and it made me realize just how different fandom culture is from capitalist culture. People were happy to trade and see other peoples badges and would trade for badges that didn’t even necessarily pertain to their interests because it was the act of trading and gifting itself that was enjoyable not the end product. Though I did get a lot of very fun badge ribbons, it wasn’t about quality, or whether someone's ribbon was good enough for mine, it was about sharing and being a part of a community.
But as fandom culture becomes more mainstream, people who are just now entering the community are bringing with them the capitalist ideals that are instilled into us from birth. And that is hurting the community at large.
I understand wanting to be able to make a living off of your art and creations (though I wish we lived in a society where we could just live and we didn’t have to sell ourselves or something else in order to just exist) but when fanfiction becomes involved things get very tricky. The reason that fanfiction can exist and sites like AO3 have not been taken down is because the creators of fics are not profiting off of their creations.
AO3 spends a lot of money on lawyers to advocate for fanfic creators and to keep the site up and running like normal. But when money breeches fanfiction it becomes a possible slippery slope to the entire thing being persecuted.
I have seen people make patreons or use Ko-Fi to try and make money off of their fics. Though they usually are advertising their original works and not their fics, in some cases there is a lot of grey area. Like I just said, I understand wanting to be able to live with just your own art, but I am not sure if we are at a point in society where it is possible to make a living off of fics. You can make a living off of fanart or other avenues, but fanfiction is a very tricky thing.
There is also the aspect where people would rather read or interact with art that is a part of fandom which means that artists will have a harder time trying to sell or market their original works. I know artists who do not like vending at cons for this reason since they would have to change or alter their art style to make it more palatable for the most amount of people and at the same time being stuck drawing whatever is popular instead of what they want to draw.
There are many factors that are leading people down this route and I am not pointing these things out as a way of calling people out singularly but as a way to talk about what I am seeing in the community currently.
----------------------------------------------
Another way that people are bringing capitalism into the fanfiction community is by selling fics on Etsy. If you are not aware of this already, people on Etsy are downloading fics off of places like AO3 and binding them into books and selling them. The authors of these fics are not involved in the selling and are having their free content stolen so that someone else can sell it.
I understand wanting to print out and possibly bind your favorite fanfics for yourself, but you cannot steal someone else’s fic and then profit off of it in any way. Fics are not meant to be profitable. It feels to me like taking someone's beautiful painting that they gave to you to look at for free, stealing it, and selling it to a rich buyer. But this is the essence of capitalism.
Capitalism teaches us that no one else matters except for ourselves and we need to use any means necessary to make money even if doing so goes against ethics and morals. But, as I have already explained, fanfiction exists outside of the realm of capitalism and subverts it entirely. The people who are binding these fics are equating the time it took them to bind the fics into monetary value and are expecting to be paid for their work in doing so. Which if they were binding anything other than stolen non-monetizable work would be valid in our economy.
----------------------------------------------
We need to push back against the monetization of fanfiction. Fandom culture as a whole is a bit more nuanced since we have things like conventions and official/non official merchandise which are all bought for with money. Though, cons are becoming more commercialized and there are issues with vendor halls not being well vetted. (Though some cons have forgone the vetting process entirely and instead use a lottery based system so that they can not be blamed if someone sells questionable stuff at the con.)
I have been attending cons since the late 2000’s so I have seen a lot of change over the years. There used to be a lot more bootleg stuff then we see today (though there is still bootleg stuff. Instead of outlawing it entirely, some cons give vendors percentages of how much they are allowed to have of unofficial merch.) Though I have also noticed a lot of 3D printed slop and cheap items bought from alibaba/aliexpress/amazon and then sold for a lot more.
(Be wary of booths that do not allow you to take pictures. I understand why someone who is selling fanart might not want pictures taken but every time I hear of a booth that was selling stolen art, A.I. art, aliexpress/alibaba/amazon things (and claiming they personally made it), etc. they also did not allow photos.)
Because of the mass produced slop that is invading the con space, it is hard to find quality items for a fandom. I wish cons would do more vetting so that there could be better options in the vendor hall instead having to pick between 4 booths that are selling the same rocks that may or may not be what they claim to be, 3 booths selling bootleg merch saying they designed and made it themselves, a bunch of booths selling 3D printed slop, etc. I know of at least one con that takes the vendor hall very seriously and if it didn’t give away my location I would promote them here. But it shouldn’t be a one off thing, it should be the baseline for conventions.
----------------------------------------------
Another way that capitalism is encroaching on the fanfiction/fandom space is through the expectations of new fans or readers. In my essay on capitalism and self identity, I talk about how capitalism is inherently individualistic and this has become an increasing problem with social media and algorithms that will only show you what you want to see.
When I was first creating this series on fanfiction, puritan culture and commercialization were going to be combined because one bleeds into the other. When people only see things that they already like, they are going to expect the same in every space they enter. But the thing about fanfiction, and AO3 in particular, is that you will see things that don’t directly support whatever it is you like. There is no algorithm on AO3, you have to search for what you want to read and you are inevitably going to see things that don’t relate to your interests. But capitalism makes us believe that the only person that matters in the whole world is ourselves and so seeing things that don’t directly relate to you can feel like an offense.
I believe this is why puritan culture and the fanfiction discourse at the moment is so toxic is because at the end of the day what people are mad about isn’t that these fics are being written, it's that they have to see them. Some people might be trying to do some moral high ground thing by calling others evil and freaks for what they read (moral individualism. I highly suggest reading at least the parts about individualism in my capitalism essay) and then assert themselves as the ‘good’ ones. This leads to strong puritan beliefs and is a cause for what we are seeing today on AO3 and Tumblr.
It is also important to note that any social media platform with an algorithm is inherently conservative, in my opinion. It is a lot easier to be a conservative and to interact with conservative content on algorithm based social media compared to non/limited algorithm based social media since you have to physically search for what you want to see.
Another example are people who are used to reading BookTok books and then moving over to fanfiction and treating fanfiction the same way they would a book. But fanfiction is not some monetary item that you buy, it is a gift from one person to the next and should not be treated the same way as published works.
(Side note: I lowkey might write an essay on BookTok books since I’ve been trying to read some and…I have a lot to say about it. I think a lot of popular published romances these days are just conservative values rebranded as agency and activism)
Since fanfiction is a gift, you should not comment on them like you are reviewing a book or telling the author you wished they wrote something else. I have seen too much of this and it is driving me insane. If you are going to comment, then you should be praising the author or the work in some way. If you do not want to praise the piece, then don’t comment. Don’t interact. Put that gift aside and pick up another one. Not everything is going to appeal to you. That’s just a fact of life.
----------------------------------------------
Capitalism wants us to believe that the only thing that matters in the world is ourselves. Our pleasure. Our pain. And the downside to that is that it makes us convinced that we are alone and that no one could ever understand us. But capitalism is an economic system that hurts everyone within it and it can only continue to work if there is rampant inequality and suffering.
It is easier for us to imagine the end of the world than it is for us to imagine an end to capitalism. We don’t remember what society used to be like before our bodies and abilities were exploited so that someone else could make money. And so, it is hard for people to imagine what Democratic Socialism could look like. But I don’t think we have to look far.
AO3 is a great example of what can happen if a bunch of people come together for the greater good. The site is completely run and funded by the people for the people. It lets people read and interact with things without having to see ads or having to go through any sort of paywall. It is a community effort that supports the community.
Capitalism wants us to believe that there is nothing that we can do. That we are just in a losing battle and any fight is going to be worthless. Alone we may be weak, but together we are strong.
Only 1-5% of the US population came out for the No King’s protest. And yet that looked like everyone. But could you imagine how much change there would be if just 10% of the US population came out? (which would be roughly 34 million people). The current government wants to limit what we can see and do online. And we already know that it is most likely going to directly target queer spaces like AO3. We need to protect this community and its people.
“What if no one shows up to the protest?” But what if everyone does? That is how we need to think. We need to dream of a better future and do everything we can to get us there even if it may be impossible.
It is really easy to fake caring about something, but it is a lot harder to fake showing up.
----------------------------------------------
Articles:
Fan Labor
Gift Giving in Anthropological Perspective
----------------------------------------------
When I was writing this in the library a really nice old guy sat down next to me and was using the library to print out his investment portfolio which was over 40 million. What in the dystopia is this?
Also if you want to join a tag list just for my essays let me know :)
This is lowkey unedited so I may come back later and change some things around. Or if you think I left anything out please let me know :)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | AO3 |
TW: implied mpreg, some romance, some angst.
This is PG 13.
Also I took some liberties with the timeline of things. I know Dick is canonically in his teens when his parents die, but I decided to make him around 8 years old
---
It was supposed to be just another normal interview. Bruce can't even remember what it was supposed to be about. Since him and the reporter ended up doing a lot more than just talking.
Bruce put a lot of work into appearing as the most desirable alpha, and his body helped him keep up that visage. But when he presented as omega, he decided that he was going to keep the truth with him to his grave.
He kept up the playboy act really well. An alpha that cant seem to settle down and spends his free time going to charity events and keeping up his image. He never fit the image of an omega anyways, he was strong and tall. But his body had another idea when he was alone in the room with the alpha reporter who just so happened to forget to wear scent blockers.
Clark was running late to the interview. The paper wanted it to be done in Bruce's manor with a few shots of him in his office. The interview was going to be about how he manages to balance his work and home life.
When Clark first arrived in Metropolis he quickly learned about the enigmatic alpha bachelor from Gotham. Its impossible to not look up at the alpha for inspiration, admiration, and maybe a little desire. Bruce had everything Clark liked, a strong dominant flirty personality who seemed to deeply care about others.
The Wayne Foundation was doing more for Gotham than the government or anyone else ever would. And Clark admired that. How someone so strong and revered could still have empathy for others and still try to do good.
Most alphas fall into a pit of constantly having to prove their masculinity and alpha status. But Bruce didn't need to do all of that. He didn't need to be mean and rude to prove that he was an alpha to be reckoned with. Proved that there could still be good role models for young children.
So maybe Clark was a little bit blinded by his devotion to notice that Bruce was an enigma. An omega stuck in an alphas body. If Clark tried hard enough he could probably use super senses to smell Bruce's true presentation, but the illusion and dream was too strong. And Clark would be lying if it didn't give him a thrill every time he thought about being alone in the same room with such a strong alpha.
Bruce had been using his military grade suppressants for far too long and his body was starting to give out. He knew that if he used them for too long without a break then they would lose their effectiveness, but he figured it would just be one interview and then he could go on vacation somewhere remote for a few weeks and come back as the same strong alpha as before.
The whole interaction started innocently enough. Clark was a bit disheveled struggling to carry a camera, tripod, and a lengthy folder of possible questions. Bruce smiled and leaned in, putting on his playboy charm. He grabbed the stack of papers. "Let me help you. I can't have such a lovely reporter as..." Bruce gave Clark his signature long and suggestive look. Biting his lip a little to continue the façade.
The playboy alpha stereotype was a role that Bruce played amazingly well and it also helped to deepen his image. Omegas weren't supposed to be flirty. They weren't supposed to imitate at all, and Bruce made sure to be everything an omega isn't.
"Diligent as yourself." Bruce pondered calling the poor alpha something like 'lovely' or 'caring' but that felt a little too over the top even for him. And this was meant to be a business transaction. The poor alpha was on the job and Bruce didn't want to harass him too much. A little was okay though.
But a little quickly turned into a little more and then eventually the folder of papers was scattered across Bruce's expensive mahogany desk as he tenderly held Clarks head as the two kissed.
Clark, for his part, thought that this was just a part of Bruce's personality. He also knew that this could jeopardize his job and his future at the Daily Planet. But when Bruce leaned in, his eyes half lidded and his breath coming in a bit to ragged to be normal, Clark threw decorum out the window. This was a once in the lifetime chance with his idol, and even he wasn't going to miss it.
Clark was so engrossed in the moment he didn't even notice that Bruce doesn't have alpha specific anatomy. He just wished that moment could last forever. Every breath, a prayer. Bruce could have been saying the most outrageous things at that moment and Clark would still have received it as a divine message.
Meanwhile, Bruce was in his own personal hell. He was at war with his body and his desires. Mentally, Bruce was going through the moral implications of sleeping with a reporter for a newspaper that he owns. If Clark decided to say anything this could blow up in his face and the only way Bruce would be able to save himself would be by revealing the truth.
Bruce was...cordial after. A little bit too much for Clark's liking. Clark wondered if it was naïve of him to think that he actually meant something to the billionaire playboy. He was probably just another name on a long list of trysts.
Luckily, Clark never said anything about the interaction afterwards. Granted he would lose his job is he did, but it at least gave Bruce some hope that the reporter didn't find out about his true presentation. Even an upstanding reporter wouldn't be able to hold back from a tell-all article about how one of the most famous alphas in the world was actually an omega. No doubt it could generate Clark millions of dollars if he went public with the information or sold it to some new agency of information broker.
As decided, Bruce went on a long impromptu trip to Rome. The official statement was that he was scouting the area to possibly put the European head quarters of Wayne Enterprises, but the truth was a lot more dubious. When Bruce cut off the suppressants entirely he expected to go into heat, or maybe something of the sort. But nothing happened.
And after a month Bruce's suspicions were confirmed, he was pregnant.
Alfred had seen many crazy things while working at Bruce's side. He saw the young boy turn into a strong young man and a protector of an entire city. But crazier than all of that was seeing hearing of the pregnancy. Alfred nearly broke an expensive bottle of wine and nearly tipped over a wine cart of crystal glasses.
Bruce is the one that came up with the plan. He was going to have the kid in secret. Pay a family very good hush money to raise the kid as their own and when the time came, Bruce would adopt the kid. Call it a charity. And even if the child looked like him, he would have elaborate falsified documents to prove that its just a coincidence. And no one would be wiser.
Though his plans came crashing down when he went to visit the child at the circus and discuss the next stage of the plan with the parents when, due to the ropes in their circus act getting intentionally cut, the parents fell to their death. And his kid, Dick, watched it all happen.
Bruce wondered then and there if he should tell Dick the truth. That he was his 'real' father but he decided against it. Maybe it was the empathetic part of him, but he didn't want to hurt his son anymore than he already has been. And with the adoptive parents being dead, it was a lot more believable for Bruce to adopt his son.
And everything would have went perfectly...if his son was not obsessed with Superman. Bruce didn't have any particular feelings for the metropolis hero, but Dick didn't even care that Bruce was Batman. When Bruce told him his identity, all the kid asked is if he knew Superman.
This made Bruce's jaw twitch. And that became a common theme. While trying to get over the grief of losing both his parents, Dick consumed himself with Superman. A pillar of hope. A ray of sunshine in a dangerous world. Someone who would not think twice about saving a kid in danger.
Bruce indulges his son, giving him a Superman themed room and all the Superman merch the kid could want. And every night Bruce sat through the same YouTube videos of Superman saving people. It was honestly exhausting, but the guilt of lying to his son was reason enough to continue the indulgence.
Dick took to being Robin like a fish to water. The second Bruce framed it as Dick being just like Superman Dick was already swinging from the banister showing all the cool moves he was going to use against the bad guys.
"And then!" Dick shouts while getting ready to show Bruce his next move. "I do a flip and I kick the bad guy in the face! And I punch him in the arm and I say 'This is to truth, justice, and a better tomorrow!'" Dick said excitedly.
Bruce's smile didn't reach his eyes, staring to wonder if this obsession was unhealthy. "That's Superman's catchphrase, you can't use it kid."
Dick pouts. Then, as if a light bulb turning on in his head, he perked up. "What about, 'Holy moly I'm going to turn you into guacamole'."
Alfred stifled a laugh.
"Let's put a pin in the whole catchphrase thing and we can come back to that later," Bruce offered while trying to gently lead Dick into the Batcave.
"But Superman has such a cool catchphrase and I need a cool catchphrase too."
"You don't need a cool catchphrase. You just need...to make sure the bad guys don't get away. Got it? Now lets get ready-" Bruce was cut off by Dick running down the stairs at a lightning speed that made Bruce pause for a moment.
The first time Bruce brought Dick with him to the Watchtower he knew it was going to be a whole event. He had already emotionally prepared himself for Dick to run off immediately to find Superman even though he told Dick many times to stay by his side and to not bother any of the other heroes.
And without fail, Dick immediately ran off looking Superman. Bruce sighed as Wonder Woman walked up and greeted him.
Bruce had already mentioned his new sidekick at the last meeting and everyone was so interested in meeting the kid. But Bruce warned them that Robin was a bit...special. Maybe a bit obsessive. And at times hard to keep still. He conveniently left out the part where he's obsessed with Superman since Bruce still hold onto a slight hope that Dick would listen and stay by his side.
"I see the little one ran off," Diana said with a smirk.
Bruce sighed. "He can be a bit of a handful at times."
"Don't you think he's a bit...young to be in this line of work?" Diana asked. Bruce never told them how old Dick was, so the others were imagining at least a 13 or 14 year old, not an 8-9 year old.
Bruce did wonder that at first. If Dick wasn't ready to be on patrol. But the kid just had such a...zeal for being a superhero that he's sure Dick would have snuck out and joined him on patrol anyways.
"Do you remember that time you saved that family from the burning building? You were so cool when you came out holding them like whoosh woosh and you landed like boom boom and everyone was clapping and that you said," Dick was talking a mile a minute and Clark was barely understanding his jumbled words. "It's only a part of the job," Dick said in his mock deep voice. "And then you flew up and it was so cool. I watch that every night."
"Oh."
Clark was a little stunned as he walked over to Batman, ready to return Robin to his caregiver. Clark loved kids and was very excited to meet Robin for the first time. But now he understood all the vague things Batman said about the kid. Though, it warmed a piece of his heart that such a broodish and cold alpha like Batman would be so gentle and caring to such a kid.
For all that Clark is worth, he never stopped liking Bruce Wayne. But when he first met Batman, it felt like love at first sight. Tall, handsome, strong, and he had a mysterious cold edge to him that just made Clarks heart flutter and his head fill with every possible scenario of their future life together.
But liking Batman felt like he was cheating on his first real love, Bruce Wayne. Though he knew the billionaire would never love him back, Clark still felt like he was doing something wrong. He hadn't talked to Bruce one on one in practically 9 years and it was finally time for Clark to put aside his impossible crush.
"I hope he didn't bother you too much," Bruce said in his deep Batman voice while reaching for Dick. Dick turned to Bruce and stuck out his tongue.
"Do you remember that time the bad guys blew up the train tracks and you had to grab the trains and stop them from colliding? It was like screeeech." Dick ignored Bruce and turned back to his true hero and inspiration. "Or the time there was that big earthquake and you and Krypto were going through the...the uhh the"
"Robin," Bruce said in a firm voice.
Clark gave him an awkward smile while once again trying to hand the kid off to his guardian. "I think maybe it's your bed time."
"No!" Dick flipped out of Superman's hold and hid behind him.
Clark was impressed at the speed and agility. No wonder a kid like him was able to hold his own against criminals.
"Robin."
"I don't want to go home!" Dick pouted furiously, tears threatening to fall down his face at any moment.
Bruce sighed.
"Sometimes we have to make sacrifices kid," Superman said encouragingly. "Next time you come maybe I can sign something for you."
"Really?!?" Dick's emotions were like the swing of a pendulum, one moment sad and depressed the next happy and excited.
"Yes, but you have to listen to Batman."
"...Ok...I guess we can leave." Dick kicked the ground lightly, defeated.
Superman gave Bruce an encouraging smile. "He's a good kid. Nice of you to -uh- take him in."
Diana gave a knowing smile as she looked between Batman and Superman.
After that first interaction, Bruce made sure Dick could at least contain his obsession slightly and not instantly run to Superman and bother him.
Bruce and Clark were scheduled to be just two boats sailing off, never meant to cross paths again. At least as civilians. And yet somehow Bruce found himself cursing whatever God or power that be there was which caused him to have to be alone in a room with Clark Kent again.
The interview was going to be simple, the public loved the fact that Bruce adopted a child orphaned due to crime and the Daily Planet decided they wanted to full inside scoop. Bruce made sure it wasn't going to be Clark that was interviewing him, but as fate would have it, the original interviewer got sick and that was how Bruce found himself sitting across from the father of his 'adopted' child.
Dick wasn't interested in doing an interview. It took a lot of coaxing on Bruce and Alfred's part to get him to agree to sit still for at least thirty minuets. Bruce had promised him that they could have whatever Dick wanted for desert and that Bruce would try to bring Dick with him to the next Justice League meeting.
"What's it like being a new parent? It's not often we see lone alphas willingly adopt a child."
All of Bruce's responses were prepared in advance. "Well I am not just any alpha."
Clark swallowed hard and tried to keep himself from blushing at that. Man, he felt like a kid experiencing his first crush all over again.
"And what's it like having such a successful man as a role model?" Clark asked Dick.
Dick finally turned and looked the reporter in this face. He paused and knitted his eyebrows together. "Superman?"
Bruce closed his eyes and took in a nice and controlled breath. Not even noticing the way that Clark visibly stiffened. Bruce had went over all the questions with Dick the night before, but one of the first rules of raising a child was to expect the unexpected.
"Sorry, he's a huge fan of Superman these day. Isn't that right?"
Dick didn't answer. He studied the reporter. "Are you Superman?"
"Now Dick- sorry like I said this is a bit of a...special interest of his. How about you answer the nice mans question?" Bruce's eye twitched as he tried to steer the conversation back.
Dick shook his head and pointed at Clark. "You look like Superman. I met him. He looks like you."
Bruce ran a hand down his face. "I am so sorry Mr. Kent. We may have to reschedule the interview for another time."
Clark didn't register a word Bruce said, he was too busy staring the kid down trying to figure out why his enchanted glasses weren't working on the kid. And what was this about Bruce Wayne's charge meeting him? Could it have been before Bruce adopted him? Clark mind spun.
"Oh yes well I can also skip onto the next questions, um" Clark stammered as he tried to blink away his fear of getting found out.
Meanwhile, Bruce is just happy that it doesn't seem like Clark realizes that Dick is his kid. The last thing Bruce needed was for his secret to get found out. He already managed to dodge the bullet of his omega status being known, now he just needed to make sure that no one knew that Dick was his biological child.
Eventually, Clark and Bruce continued the interview as normal. But Dick only wanted to talk about Superman after that. Crossing his arms and staring Clark down like he was trying to size him up.
Fuck, Clark thought, this kid really does know. Why aren't the glasses working?
That night, Clark was consumed by his thoughts and worries. But he couldn't put his finger on how the kid knew his identity. The glasses were obviously working, Bruce thought the kid was just playing games. So why was this child special?
And where did he meet him?
"Ugh," Clark lightly hit his head against his desk. The act was more symbolic than anything else. He was at an impasse.
As if grabbing onto an invisible string, a thought so impossible solidified in Clarks mind. Clark had two obvious crushes, Bruce Wayne and Batman. And both alphas recently look in a young boy. Both boys were obsessed with Superman and he had personally met Robin on multiple occasions.
But the next string of thought felt even more impossible. People like...Clark were immune to some magic enchantments. The glasses probably wouldn't work on someone who was a Kryptonian. Or even half Kryptonian. Though it is possible that Dick was something else entirely that was also immune to the enchantment.
"That would be impossible," Clark groaned. "I might as well be grasping at straws."
In a sea of impossibilities, this...option felt the most likely. If anything, Clark would just ask Bruce about it and they would have a good laugh. Or Clark could lose his job for bringing up their one-night stand.
The waves of curiosity were nipping at him and he decided to take the plunge. At the next Gala, Clark managed to fenagle himself an invite through his work. It took a bit of convincing and maybe a few under handed tactics, but he needed to know if his theory was correct.
Bruce is his usual suave self, making Clarks heart jump as he builds up the confidence to confront him.
Is the kid mine? No... I can't say it like that. So I noticed that your child looks a lot like you. No...Hey I'm Superman and I think you're Batman. No... Clark grabs a random champagne flute and downs it as he notices Bruce step out onto a terrace outside.
The cold air bit into his skin as he opened up the door. Bruce was standing there nursing a cigar, his body tensing when he heard the door open.
"It's occupied," Bruce said.
"Um," Clark started. In all honesty, he still didn't know what to say. The words were stuck in his throat and they were threatening to stay there forever. "I-"
Bruce whips around. Smoke billowing slowly around him. His eyes no longer portraying the calm and collected demeanor that he always had. Bruce had expected it would come to this.
"I didn't know it was customary for entry level reporters to attend these things."
This wasn't the Bruce Wayne he knew. This wasn't the Batman he knew. Clark didn't know who this was but he didn't like any second of it.
"I-someone couldn't make it so..."
"That was the excuse last time too, right? Clark, is it? What we had was a one time thing-"
"Is the kid mine?" Clark blurted out.
The air stilled. No one dared to move. The truth hanging in-between them. An invisible red string of fate tying them together.
"How much do you want? Just say a number. Better yet, I will have Alfred send you a blank check and you can just put whatever amount you want on there."
Silence.
"Or would you prefer a promotion? I can pull some strings and-"
"That's...he's...he's my kid?" Clark was stunned. He thought for sure that he was wrong. That it was so impossible that it was laughable. Never in a billion years did he imagine that he had a kid with the alpha playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne....omega playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne.
"What do you want? For your silence." A million emotions ran through Bruce's head. His heart feeling like a jumbled up mess of yarn. This was his worst nightmare. All the other times that he thought he would surely die and shrivel up did not come anywhere close to this. His entire reputation was on the line. His entire livelihood. Everything he fought so hard for. So hard to protect. His city. His family. Everything was slipping through his fingers.
"I-Can I be in his life-does he know?" Clark asked.
Bruce opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out.
"How did you do it? I mean no one suspected a thing. If it wasn't for the fact my glasses don't work on him because he's half Kryptonian then I would have never known."
"Kryptonian?"
"Oh."
Bruce took another drag of the cigar and run a hand through his hair. This was more complicated than he even imagined. Not only was his baby daddy a reporter, he was also Superman. God, Dick is obsessed with Superman.
"I-Can I-I want to be a part of his life. He obviously likes me and-"
"No!" Bruce shouts a bit too loud making Clark flinch. "He likes you because you're his favorite superhero. No. He can't know."
"He looks like us," Clark tried to reason, but he might as well be reasoning with a brick wall.
"And so do his parents. Just-Just tell me what it is you want and I will give it to you. He can't know. He can't. He misses his parents so much. He can't know they weren't his real parents." Bruce didn't realize when exactly his anger turned into pleading. Bargaining. Begging.
Clark nodded slowly. "I understand. I just...I have a lot to think about now."
"Me too," Bruce offered, his cold aloof mask completely cracked.
"Even if he doesn't know that I am his...dad...I still want to...hang out with him sometimes." Now Clark was doing the pleading.
Two broken boats, their rudders knocking them into each other once again.
Jason Todd X Reader (Gender neutral except that reader is pregnant)
TW: Death, Abortion, Teen Pregnancy, Heavy Angst, Religious imagery, sadness, suffering, mentions of SI, happy ending. This is meant to be psychologically sad, do not read if you don't want to experience that. I also took some liberty with the timeline of things.
Divinely inspired by the song: Breathe (2 AM) by Anna Nalick
Images are not mine
---
You first met Jason a few years ago when he started attending Gotham Academy. By then, the school already felt suffocating. Surrounded by rich kids in an impoverished neighborhood who care more about networking then they care about actual friendships.
You felt like you always had to sell yourself just to get a few words in because you weren't like them. The Wayne foundation gave you a full-ride to the private school and you thought maybe this would be your chance to break the cycle of generational poverty. But instead you were met with a bunch of people who were busy trying to prove that they were worthy enough to be friends with. Morals only matter to people in privilege, you didn't get that choice when you were born.
But Jason was different. It felt like he understood you in a way that the others couldn't. And maybe that's why you fell in love with him and still clung to the hope of him even when times were tough.
The relationship was very rocky. You hated how secretive he was and how he could go days without messaging you or even showing up in class. It made your mind drift to the possibility that something might have happened to him. And whenever you brought this up with him he just brushed it off saying he was busy and that you wouldn't understand.
Maybe you were so blinded by the illusion of hope that he gave you to notice him slipping. His eyes darker, staring off into space for longer. His texts shorter and the times you couldn't reach him stretching from just a couple days to weeks. But when he came back to your open arms, it was like all was right with the world. That all those lonely nights were worth it if it meant you could sleep by his side at least once.
You didn't expect to get pregnant. How many teenagers really expect that? But when you saw those two blue lines your heart fluttered for a moment, like a snowflake distilled in time, until it plummeted to the floor. A kid. His kid. Your kid.
Your brain turned into a flurry of thoughts. What would he say? Would he care? Would he want to be a part of the kids life?
A part of you was thankful it was his, at least you knew that the Wayne family would help you two to take care of the kid so you wouldn't have to relive your own childhood once again from a taller perspective.
It wasn't long before you started looking at baby clothes and trying to figure out what name you would give the child. But after a while the numbing fear of having to break the news to him set in.
He was on one of his no contact binges again. You figured he would come back in a week or so and you could tell him then. But he never came back.
What did come was a spattering of missed calls and texts. When you saw your phone lighting up in the middle of the night you smiled and assumed it must be Jason.
"Please call me back." A text from Bruce Wayne. You forgot he even gave you his number. A vague memory of him putting his contact into your phone at the last 'family' dinner telling you to let him know if anything happened.
You weren't sure when you stopped breathing, but you took a forceful inhale as you sat up and paused your finger over the button to call him back.
"Uh hey, it's me. You wanted to talk? Is Jason ok?" The words flew out of your mouth is a stuttering speed.
The short silence told you something you already knew. Jason was not ok.
Your conscious mind didn't even register Bruce's response before you found yourself running to the bathroom to throw up. The world was spinning so fast and all you had to hang onto was the toilet.
Someone came to check on you. You don't even remember who, your body moving on auto-pilot as you take a back seat and watch as the blizzard intensifies.
You were running through an endless tunnel and the snow banks were getting higher and higher. Screaming and clawing your way out. The closer you got to the light, the farther away it felt. Until you were standing in a church dressed in mourning black and holding a bouquet of roses. The thorns biting into your fingers but you didn't care. Nothing felt real anymore.
You looked around and you recognized the others. Bruce, Dick, Alfred. But that was it. Just you, them, and a coffin. His coffin.
Maybe it was the December air that froze your tears, and you tried so hard not to beat yourself up for not crying. Shouldn't you be crying?
A firm hand lands on your shoulder and you turn and look up at Bruce, his face cold and impassive. He notices the slight trickle of blood dripping down your fingers and onto your clothes.
"You should have Alfred bandage that up when...you're done," he said before giving you a tight smile that did nothing to encourage you. "I'm sorry," he says before giving you a pat on the back and walking away with Dick.
Sorry. That word meant nothing to you anymore. What was he to be sorry about? The news said it was the Joker. That he had been beaten so hard with a crowbar that his body was indistinguishable. They figured out it was him from dental records and blood tests.
You vaguely remember being asked if you wanted to see the body and you shook your head. You don't want to remember him like that. Like a beaten corpse. You didn't want those images poisoning your memory.
His memory.
The memory that was growing inside of you. The child that you had so much hope for turned into a parasite. A reminder of everything you've lost.
There was no way you were going to raise a kid on your own. Sure, you could have told Bruce that the kid was Jason's and maybe he would offer support, but that would mean having to tell people that you were pregnant with Jason's child. And if you said that aloud then...it would be real.
And right now its just a secret. A secret that no one needed to know. A burdened that was for some reason pushed onto you and now you had to decide what to do.
You hadn't been far along. If you went now you could get an abortion. Or maybe you could pray diligently and hope for a miscarriage. Or you could drink so much that you hope both of you die.
A very small part of you hoped-reasoned-that maybe Jason could take care of the kid for you if you let them reunite. Another part of you was going through pages and pages of people explaining how it is just a fetus and you shouldn't feel anything. But that fetus was once a bright star in your starless night, and now it is a black hole threatening to destroy everything.
Their eyes felt like they were burning through you. But everyone was here for the same reason right? And it was just a medical procedure and you didn't have anything to worry about and the receptionist gave you smile that reminded you that you still existed. That sometimes we work so hard for a future that we have no control over and eventually some people are going to wind up in a waiting room.
And it just so happened to be you this time. Trying to breathe through frozen tears in a vast silent snow covered meadow. Hoping that eventually December will just be another month and you will be able to live past this. Maybe one day the sun will shine and your heart will defrost and you can be happy once again. That you can smile once again.
Life is like car ride and you are the passenger. The only choice you have is which window to look out of and which music to play. But your destination will always be the same. And maybe one day you can look out of the front instead of the back.
Its been years since then. Since you closed your eyes as your half-naked body lay atop the medical bed like a bleeding lamb on an alter. Presented to the heavens as an offering. Praying that this was the right choice. And if its not to grab your soul and destroy it. Or else let you be reunited with the man you loved.
The pain gets better over the years and eventually you are smiling again. Even through the thickest of blizzards, the sun can still shine. Though at first it felt wrong, like it was burning your skin. That you weren't meant to be in its warmth and you were meant to die of hypothermia. You eventually get used to it.
To have loved and lost meant that you at least were loved. Knew how to love. Knew how to hope. Knew how to exist.
Though you never did cancel the baby registry. Your mind stills slightly as you get the email congratulating your baby for their 5th birthday.
And you don't even notice as the sun glints off a red helmet. You turn off your phone and go back to hanging out with your friends.
