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dceu_kinkmeme2016-04-14 12:37 am
dceu_kinkmod) wrote in dceu_kinkmeme2016-04-14 12:37 am
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DCEU Prompt Post #1
Welcome to Round One of the DCEU Kink Meme!
Please have a look at the extended rules here.
The important rules in short:
- Post anonymously.
- Negative comments on other people's prompts (kink-shaming, pairing-bashing etc.) and personal attacks of any kind will not be tolerated.
- One prompt per comment. Warnings for common triggers and squicks are encouraged, but not required.
- Prompts should follow the format: Character/character, prompt.
- Keep prompts to a reasonable length; prompts should not be detailed story outlines.
- No prompt spamming.
Please direct any questions to the Ask a mod post. For inspiration: list of kinks .
Prompt, write, draw, comment, and most importantly have fun! Please link to your fills on the fill post.
Here's the discussion post for all your non-prompt/fill needs.
We now have a non-DCEU prompt post for any prompts in other 'verses (comics, animated series, other movies or TV shows etc.).
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FILL: as to which may be the true; Bruce/Clark, identity porn (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2016-07-12 10:57 pm (UTC)(link)He manages to shave a good five minutes off that estimate—no mean feat, considering how hard he'd already been planning to push the Batplane to get to Kansas that fast.
From outside, the house looks normal. Bruce hadn't quite had a hand to his phone for the entire flight, but not for lack of trying. He hadn't been able to shake the thought of Martha calling again, panicked, when the thing finally did turn on her—of sitting in the Batplane's nigh-impenetrable shell, engines screaming but still too slow, and listening to her die—
But from outside, the house looks normal. There are no holes in the walls, the roof. The windows are intact.
There's dirt on the front porch.
Bruce doesn't let himself try to decide whether it matches his memory of the color, the texture, of the dirt that had been shoveled over Clark's coffin. He steps over it and raps once, sharp, on the frame of the screen door, and he doesn't wait for Martha to answer before he opens it. (For all he knows, she can't.)
But she's there when he walks inside—right there, she's put Clark on the sofa where the afternoon sun has just begun to slant in, and she's kneeling down beside him. She turned her head at the knock and she's staring at Bruce, a hand pressed over her mouth, her face caught somewhere between reckless joy and complete bewilderment. "Bruce," she whispers, between her fingers, because—
Because it's Clark.
He is covered in dirt: it's smeared dark along his hands, his arms, where the suit he was buried in has torn. He looks awful, pale, sallow in the way kryptonite can make him—except Martha's wiped his face carefully clean and the sun's soaking into him almost visibly. (For all Bruce knows, it's not an optical illusion or a trick of the light. Clark might literally be glowing a little bit where the sunlight's touching him.)
And he's alive. Even as Bruce looks, Clark tilts his face a little further into the light; his throat bobs as he swallows, and then he pulls in a breath so full it makes the seams of that moldering suit tear a little bit at the sides, the shoulders. And Clark doesn't need to breathe, Bruce is pretty sure. But right now he wants to, he's reveling in the ability. After this long, the air left in his coffin couldn't have amounted to much—
Clark blinks his eyes open, turns his head—he must have heard the knock, too, but maybe he hadn't realized what it meant, if he's as disoriented as Martha said he was. And then he looks at Bruce, and Bruce realizes the moment their eyes meet that it was a huge mistake to come here.
"Mr—Mr. Wayne?" Clark says. "I don't, um—what are you doing here?"
Good question, Bruce thinks.
"Sorry, that was rude," Clark adds blearily, "sorry," and Martha reaches out to touch his arm.
"Shh," she says, "it's all right, I—I'm sure Mr. Wayne won't hold it against you." She looks up at Bruce, and her gaze is uncertain: she'd forgotten too. She'd forgotten Clark didn't know.
Which is understandable. She's known the truth almost as long as Clark's been dead. Together, he and Diana had brought her Clark's body, before the government could swoop in for it the way they had Zod's. But Lex had kidnapped her: she hadn't had a way to get herself back to Kansas, let alone a corpse. She hadn't even had anywhere to stay, and Diana Prince had nothing in Metropolis except a hotel room she'd already checked out of. The only answer had been the lake house.
So Martha had met Batman and Bruce Wayne both on the same day, and learned they were each other just hours after. She'd known it every time she'd seen him; every time they'd talked since, she'd remembered to ask after Alfred, after Diana, to say she'd seen Batman on the news and was he sure he was all right. And in the rush of finding Clark alive—it would have been more surprising if she had remembered.
It's Bruce's failure that grates. He should have realized.
They can't even be sure how much Clark remembers about the day he died. And the last thing he needs right now is to know that the man who tried to kill him is standing over him in his mother's house.
Bruce can't ask Martha to lie to her son. But he meets her eyes and holds them, hoping she realizes why this is necessary, as he says easily, "I'm not exactly Lex Luthor's favorite person myself, Mr. Kent—your mother wasn't the only person he took hostage during that little meltdown of his." And to explain why she would call him, he just has to tell the truth: "There were some logistical issues I helped her sort out, after everything." He smiles down at Clark a little too brightly. "Zod's body got sold to LexCorp and cut up. Yours didn't. I'm the reason why."
He's expecting Clark to flinch a bit, to find the way Bruce has said this unpleasant—to, on a gut level, dislike Bruce Wayne just a little more than he thinks he should, from this moment forward. But maybe he's overestimated how well Clark is processing: Clark blinks at him twice, swallows, and then says faintly, "Then I guess I owe you one." He swallows again, and then his gaze swivels back to Martha. "And—Lois? Is she all right? Where is she?"
"Oh, honey," Martha says gently, and takes one of Clark's dirt-streaked hands. "It was so hard for her, after you were gone. She came to see you all the time, but she couldn't bear it forever. She needed a break. She's in South Korea for another three months—but we can call her, and—"
"South Korea?" Clark says, bewildered. "When did she—I, I," and then he swallows again and whispers, "How long was I dead?"
Christ.
Martha's throat is working now; she says, very low, "A while, sweetheart—a while," and presses her forehead to the back of Clark's hand. She needs a moment. Bruce knows her well enough now to guess that the last thing she wants to do is sob all over Clark while he's still helpless, disoriented.
So: "Beg pardon," he says, interrupting—verbally and physically, stepping forward to break the visual line between them. "But I imagine you'd like to get clean, Mr. Kent. And get out of that suit, considering how long you've been wearing it."
"I've," Martha says, and then presses the back of one wrist to her mouth, sucks in a long breath through her nose and lets it out, before she can finish: "I've got some of your things still boxed up in the basement. And we'll need some more water, towels," she adds. She squeezes Clark's hand and then grabs for the washcloth she must have used on his face, and steps out toward the kitchen.
Clark watches her go, looking shaken; but when he turns that helpless blue stare on Bruce, all he says is, "You tell me, Mr. Wayne, if she can't. How long have I been wearing this suit?"
Bruce does tell him. Bruce tells him everything. It's the least he can do for Martha, answering all Clark's smaller questions, filling in everything Martha's been struggling to move past alone without making her dig it all up again. Except it's dug itself up, Bruce supposes, and then doesn't let himself imagine how long it had taken Clark to do, weak as he is. (And that's another thing that should be dealt with, when Bruce gets a chance to place a call to Alfred. Nobody else visiting that graveyard should see whatever hole Clark left on his way out.)
The answers are easy enough to give. Five months, nearly six. Lois really is fine. What Clark did worked; he stopped the destruction, Zod didn't get up again after and keep going. Metropolis is still a little the worse for wear, but not the way Clark remembers. Stryker's Island no longer looks like it got firebombed. Lex Luthor is in prison, though LexCorp's managed to stagger on without him. The Daily Planet is fine, everyone who works there is fine. "In fact," Bruce adds, "they did a very impressive feature on Superman a week or two afterward." He makes a face, inconsiderate, because Bruce Wayne would. "Little hagiographic for my taste—but then that's the second time you've saved Metropolis from being the epicenter of global destruction, so I suppose I can't blame them."
Clark blinks twice and clears his throat. "And Superman, um—"
"Died very, very publicly," Bruce fills in. "There were already a couple news helicopters close enough to Stryker's to catch it. Lovely ceremony over an empty coffin in Arlington. I'm sure there's plenty of footage, if you'd like to—"
"No," Clark says unsteadily, "no, that's—I—no."
Bruce shrugs, because it makes no difference to Bruce Wayne. "I'm sure his adoring public would be thrilled to see him again," he says, "but there's no rush."
"No—?"
Of course it hasn't occurred to Clark, Bruce thinks. Always so goddamn eager to shoulder every weight. "No one knows you're back," he says aloud, and shrugs again. "At least not until you put on the uniform and somebody sees you. You might as well take your time, Mr. Kent. Doesn't look like you're up to it at the moment anyway," he adds, with a significant glance along Clark's body, the way he's draped limply over the sofa.
"Not really," Clark admits, voice rough, letting his head tip sideways a little further into the sunshine.
He's closed his eyes again; his face has relaxed in it, peaceful, still glowing faintly gold like—like maybe Bruce was right to call it hagiography: like he really is a saint. He's right there, alive, whole, and that's the last thing Bruce ever deserved to get to see in this lifetime.
It's almost spellbinding, and Bruce doesn't realize how far it's drawn him in until Clark drags in a breath, closes his hands into fists against the tops of his thighs, and says, "And what about—what about Batman?"
Re: FILL: as to which may be the true; Bruce/Clark, identity porn (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2016-07-12 11:25 pm (UTC)(link)Because it's Clark.
Awww, I love that after all his rationalising, he recognises him immediately once he sees him. I just love the way Bruce is watching him. And ooooh, when I started reading, I hadn't realised that Bruce was going as Bruce. I somehow assumed he'd gone as Batman (you know, to fight whatever doppelgänger it was, or to be Batman if Clark was actually there). No wonder Clark is even more confused now, lol.
to say she'd seen Batman on the news and was he sure he was all right
That is the cutest thing. :D And I love how easily Bruce slips into his Bruce Wayne persona again, how easily he comes up with a quick lie as to why he's there. Though I figure this means that Bruce is already somewhat in Clark's good graces in this verse from the start, right? Instead of just being an obnoxious ass. (Awww, while Clark can continue to dislike Batman?)
Except it's dug itself up, Bruce supposes, and then doesn't let himself imagine how long it had taken Clark to do, weak as he is. (And that's another thing that should be dealt with, when Bruce gets a chance to place a call to Alfred. Nobody else visiting that graveyard should see whatever hole Clark left on his way out.)
Eeeeeeeeeh, this is so perfect, combining Bruce's empathy and his incredible pragmatism, immediately thinking of what needs to be done. Also, oooh, are we getting traumatised Clark who spent ages buried alive? Yisss.
like maybe Bruce was right to call it hagiography: like he really is a saint. He's right there, alive, whole, and that's the last thing Bruce ever deserved to get to see in this lifetime.
My HEART. Starting out strong, anon. :D I love this idea of Clark being alive as something Bruce doesn't deserve. And then Clark asks after Batman while closing his hands into fists, eeeeeeeeeeh, I cannot wait for Bruce's reaction. You continue to be the best. <3
/OP (who will go to bed now and have some very nice dreams ;D)
Re: FILL: as to which may be the true; Bruce/Clark, identity porn (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2016-07-13 10:19 pm (UTC)(link)As always, I can indulge in the cutest Bruce&Martha asides that pop into my head, secure in the knowledge that you'll probably enjoy them just as much as I do. :D And yeah, the party interaction is the only thing Clark has to hold against Bruce Wayne right now, which isn't much compared to his lingering issues with Batman.
Aw, thank you! Bruce's POV is so much fun for me, trying to figure out how he's likeliest to redirect himself away from everything that gives him feelings. /o\
are we getting traumatised Clark who spent ages buried alive?
Well, not on a level requiring immersion sex therapy or anything because MAN THAT IS SUCH A GOOD PROMPT, it needs to get its own fill instead of me shoehorning it in everywhere. :D But yeah, I figured I'd switch it up a little for this fill!
I love this idea of Clark being alive as something Bruce doesn't deserve
:DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD That's at least half the reason I started this where I did - I love love love prodding at Bruce's mindset when it comes to Clark's death, OH BRUCE. /o\ Thank you so very much, OP, as always!
NO U
Re: FILL: as to which may be the true; Bruce/Clark, identity porn (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2016-07-13 02:05 am (UTC)(link)And yay for more Martha & Bruce, Bruce giving her an out, answering Clark's questions in her place, awww.
YES, GOOD QUESTION, THAT, WHAT ABOUT BATMAN, BRUCE? :DDDDD
Oh, Bruce is so going to twist himself in knots with this <333
Re: FILL: as to which may be the true; Bruce/Clark, identity porn (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2016-07-13 10:22 pm (UTC)(link)Always more Martha&Bruce. Always. :D I sometimes feel like I maybe indulge myself with that a bit too much, haha - so I'm thrilled it works for you!
:DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
OH, BRUCE
Re: FILL: as to which may be the true; Bruce/Clark, identity porn (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2016-07-13 03:08 am (UTC)(link)*presses face against monitor like a kid in a candyshop*
NONNY, YOU HAVE STREAMLINED LIKE A BOSS. But can I be the first to say that I actually love your 18+ part fics. I read and enjoy everything this fandom has to offer--but I've noticed that in comparison to other large pairing fandoms, superbat suffers from the lack of longfic. And you, nonny, help relieve the fandom of that sad affliction.
With that said, let me snuggle up to part two. There is so much to love here.
He's closed his eyes again; his face has relaxed in it, peaceful, still glowing faintly gold like—like maybe Bruce was right to call it hagiography: like he really is a saint. He's right there, alive, whole, and that's the last thing Bruce ever deserved to get to see in this lifetime.
Oh nonny, we totally, absolutely, 100% agree on this. Bruce has this beautiful character (flaw? absolutely hilarious/heart-breaking bat-tendency?) trait in the DCEU to see things in terms of 'deserves' rather than 'is'.
This is one of the things I love about Bruce's perspective; we get to have that religious-tinged imagery of Clark. All of the glowing halos, the aureole of the saint,* the way that Bruce seems to see Clark composed into these beautiful (or heartbreaking) scenes like a goddamn painting.
For a man who spends all of time in the dark with the ugliest part of humanity, Bruce sure does know how to spot beauty.
It's almost spellbinding, and Bruce doesn't realize how far it's drawn him in until Clark drags in a breath, closes his hands into fists against the tops of his thighs, and says, "And what about—what about Batman?"
*leans forward in chair avidly*
NONNY, YOU REALLY KNOW HOW TO END A SECTION. That's got the gears of my brain turning.
*you would not believe how many times I had to check that spelling to make absolutely sure i was talking about the technical term for glowing radiance about a saint, and not a nipple.
**I think you may have just given me a 'Clark enjoying the sunshine' kink. o:
Re: FILL: as to which may be the true; Bruce/Clark, identity porn (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2016-07-13 06:55 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: as to which may be the true; Bruce/Clark, identity porn (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2016-07-13 10:44 pm (UTC)(link)YOU HAVE STREAMLINED LIKE A BOSS. But can I be the first to say that I actually love your 18+ part fics
Aw, thank you so much, anon - except I might be accepting this compliment under false pretenses! /o\ After the fake dating fic exploded, I figured I should be more liberal in trying to guess how the pacing on this fill would work out, so I broke the outline into fourteen parts. Except the part I'm currently working on? Is now so long I'll be splitting it into two, possibly even three. So even trying to overestimate, I've ALREADY been wrong about how long this will be. \o?
to see things in terms of 'deserves' rather than 'is'
Oh, anon, look at you, spearing the precise heart of my deepest flailing feelings about Bruce Wayne like a fish. :D
More seriously, thank you for all of this - the end of the movie just lines up so well with a Bruce who is fundamentally moved by and even slightly in awe of Clark in a way that makes him find/see/use near-religious imagery to think about Clark. And it makes extra sense here (... at least I hope it does! :D) because of how he's been spending Clark's death, the way he's set Clark up as emblematic of everything he wants to do better.
YOU REALLY KNOW HOW TO END A SECTION
:DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD Haha, thank you. It just seemed like the natural (and, okay, slightly evil) place to break off ...
I think you may have just given me a 'Clark enjoying the sunshine' kink
:D NO REGRETS
Re: FILL: as to which may be the true; Bruce/Clark, identity porn (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2016-07-13 10:06 pm (UTC)(link)Oh, Bruce…
She'd known it every time she'd seen him; every time they'd talked since, she'd remembered to ask after Alfred, after Diana, to say she'd seen Batman on the news and was he sure he was all right.
Martha! I'm in love with your Martha. She's so genuine and sweet. No wonder Bruce has no idea what to do with her, and Clark in turn.
… hoping she realizes why this is necessary…
Debatable, Bruce. But if not for his poor life decisions concerning human emotions and people, this would be a rather short fill. ;-P
"Sorry, that was rude," Clark adds blearily, "sorry…"
Even if it gets away from Clark at first, he still remembers his manners. Such a sweet boy!
... to, on a gut level, dislike Bruce Wayne just a little more than he thinks he should, from this moment forward.
I love how Bruce is Wayneing Clark, but Clark is a little too out of it for any of it to register as the affront that Bruce no doubt intended. Bruce certainly has dedication to the role!
It may take Clark awhile to process, but I’m sure he will soon realize that the full Bruce Wayne wouldn’t be his mother’s first call nor would he keep in touch with Martha. One can hope anyway; besides, Clark just came back from the dead, I suppose I should cut him some slack for be slow on the uptake.
Thanks again for sharing!
Re: FILL: as to which may be the true; Bruce/Clark, identity porn (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2016-07-13 11:07 pm (UTC)(link)Oh, thank you so much - I like Martha a lot and I really love having her interact with Bruce; she's like Clark in some ways, but in other ways a little better at understanding Bruce. ♥
if not for his poor life decisions concerning human emotions and people, this would be a rather short fill
:D So very, very true.
I love how Bruce is Wayneing Clark, but Clark is a little too out of it for any of it to register
Haha, thank you - I admit I chuckled to myself over that section a little, just because Bruce is Batmanning this SO HARD (STRATEGY. TACTICS. PLANNING.) and it's so unnecessary with Clark halfway to passing out on his mom's couch. DIAL IT DOWN, BRUCE.
Clark just came back from the dead, I suppose I should cut him some slack for be slow on the uptake
:D It's true, he's not at his best right this second. (Of course, he also hasn't gotten the full persona yet. Once he's got a little more exposure, more curiosity about those kinds of tells will start to kick in.)
By all means - thanks so much for reading! I'm glad you're enjoying this so far. :D