ASL BROTHERS WITH A SHY S/O
ASL BROTHERS WITH A SHY S/O
WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD
CHARACTERS: Luffy + Ace + Sabo
NOTES: Do Luffy haters exist? It’s a dumb question, yes—but I’m genuinely curious. He’s so cute and dumb, I find it hard to not love him.
LUFFY
Luffy wouldn’t really “get” shyness in the conventional sense. But here’s the thing about Luffy: he’s all about accepting people as they are, no questions asked. He treats you with the same bright-eyed, wide-grinned enthusiasm he shows everyone. The idea of you needing to be more outgoing wouldn’t even cross his mind because, to him, you’re already perfect as you are. Shyness? Never heard of it. Just pass the meat, please.
Now, Luffy’s approach to social interactions is, well, 100% Luffy. He doesn’t really adapt his wild and carefree style to match anyone else’s comfort levels. If you're quiet and reserved, that’s cool—Luffy just goes on living life at full volume like it’s another Tuesday on the Sunny.
At first, you might be left wondering how in the seven seas you’re going to survive the endless hurricane of chaos that follows this rubbery captain around. But soon, and without realizing it, you start to find that his reckless antics and headfirst approach to life are... kind of charming. Sure, it’s like living next door to a tornado, but it’s a tornado that makes you laugh until your sides hurt and never lets you get too deep into your own thoughts.
What’s funny is that while he doesn’t actively try to make you feel more comfortable, he ends up doing it anyway. It’s his Luffy magic. You find yourself smiling more often, your shyness loosening its grip bit by bit as he does dumb stuff and throws himself into trouble that only Luffy would consider fun.
He’ll walk up to you, grin stretching from ear to ear, holding out some bizarre, questionably edible snack and say, “You gotta try this!” And just like that, the nerves you felt melt away—not because he’s making an effort to make you feel at ease, but simply because he’s himself.
And sure, sometimes his energy is a lot. We’re talking sprinting-across-decks, yelling-about-meat kind of “a lot.” But in the middle of all that noise, you come to realize that you feel safer and more at ease when you’re around him. Why? Because Luffy has this way of making everything fun and natural, and soon enough, that includes you too.
Before long, your shyness isn’t something you worry about around him; it’s just another thing Luffy accepts without blinking, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. And in his eyes? It is.
It’s cute because you two really are like the sun and the moon, with Luffy as the blazing, never-stopping sun, and you being the more reserved, quiet moon. It’s like a cosmic duo—he’s all light and energy, and you’re the calm, cool reflection of it all. You balance each other out in the weirdest, most wonderful way.
And when people catch wind of the fact that Luffy is dating someone—let alone someone as shy as you—it’s like watching a cartoon character’s eyes bug out of their head. Yeah, they’re not wrong to be surprised, but Luffy doesn’t care. He’s already busy thinking about what’s next on the agenda, probably involving meat or some kind of treasure hunt.
Luffy is anything but shy. He could probably talk to a rock and think it’s the best conversation he’s had all day. So when it comes to affection, he’s not exactly one to shy away from it. He might not be the clingiest partner out there—he’s not going to be hanging off you like a koala (okay, maybe sometimes)—but you can bet he’s there, always.
Whether it’s randomly giving you a hug in or tossing his arm around your shoulder like it’s no big deal, he’s just Luffy—and that means showing affection wherever and whenever he feels like it, no matter who’s watching. Basically, he’s like a “here’s my arm, it’s yours now” kind of guy.
While Luffy doesn’t exactly get what makes you shy, he’s surprisingly good at picking up on your feelings. If you’re feeling anxious, or if you’re shrinking back into your shell a little bit, Luffy has this unbelievable ability to sense when you need a change of pace. Without even thinking about it, he’ll grab your hand and drag you off on some wild adventure, just to get your mind off things.
He doesn’t even need a reason—he just knows that you could use a distraction, and he’s the perfect person to provide it. Besides, that just gives him more time to spend with you! And, of course, he might offer you one of his beloved snacks or a full meal if you’re feeling off. Seriously, do you know how big that is? Luffy parting with his food is like a miracle in itself, so if he’s offering it to you, you better believe you’re special.
And let’s talk about the food thing for a sec. Do you even realize how big of a deal it is that Luffy shares his food with you? Like, do you know how many times he’s turned down offering a bite of his meat to anyone? Probably never. So when he hands you a piece of his prized food, you know it’s a huge honor. We’re talking sacred territory here.
If you ever doubted your place in Luffy’s heart, just remember: he shares his food with you. That’s a level of trust and affection that not even the grandest feast can outdo. Trust me, you’ve got a special place in his world, and it’s right next to the meat and maybe a little bit of the chaos.
Luffy’s naturally the type of guy who’d include you in absolutely everything—because why wouldn’t he? To him, you’re part of the crew, part of his world, and that means he’s going to drag you into every single bit of it.
You’d be minding your own business, maybe sitting quietly with your book or trying to sneak in a nap, when suddenly—BAM! Luffy's in front of you, grinning like a madman, already talking about the next big adventure or game that everyone’s playing. “C’mon, join us!” he’d say, and before you could protest, he’s already tossing you into the mix.
It’s not that he’s forcing you to join, though—Luffy just has this way of making you feel like you should be there, without ever putting you on the spot. His carefree, inclusive attitude makes it feel like the natural thing to do. You never feel pressure; you just feel... valued. Like you belong, whether you’re quietly cheering from the sidelines or joining in with your own brand of awkward enthusiasm.
It’s like Luffy’s energy is so contagious that you can’t help but want to be part of whatever insane thing he’s cooking up that day, even if it’s just watching him eat his weight in food and making random, nonsensical decisions.
If anyone ever crossed the line with you—teased you, made you uncomfortable, or said something that got under your skin—Luffy would flip the script faster than you can blink. That goofy, carefree grin would disappear in an instant, replaced by a rare, uncharacteristically serious expression.
Suddenly, he’s standing right in front of you like a human shield, ready to take down anyone who dared upset you. He’s usually a chaotic force of nature, but mess with his loved ones, and that’s when you see a side of him that is all about protecting you.
He wouldn’t hesitate to confront the person, his voice firm and unwavering. “Hey! That’s not cool! You don’t mess with my crew!” He’s not one for subtlety or second-guessing, so you’d know right away that Luffy’s on your side. If someone’s being rude or making you feel small, he’ll make sure they know they’ve messed with the wrongggggg person.
The crew’s used to this by now—because Luffy, despite his childish nature, would go to the ends of the earth to defend the people he cares about. You’d feel like the most important person in the world in that moment because, in his eyes, you are.
Luffy’s loyalty is on another level entirely. Once he’s decided he cares about someone, they’re in—no questions, no conditions, just pure, unfiltered loyalty. If you’re lucky enough to be someone Luffy loves, you’d know it in every grin, in every spontaneous gesture, and in every single, joyfully shouted “Let’s go!” You’d never have to second-guess where you stand with him, because Luffy’s affections are as clear as day, as honest and unwavering as the sea he dreams of conquering.
So whether you’re officially part of his crew or not, in his mind, you’re always one of them, and he’d tell anyone who’ll listen, “Yeah, they’re with me!” with a pride that’d make your heart swell.
The best part? Luffy would constantly invite you to tag along on whatever wild journey or ridiculous stunt he’s about to pull. There’d be no hesitation; it’d be, “Hey! Let’s go on an adventure!” as if going on an impromptu quest was as simple as taking a stroll to the market. It’s almost like Luffy has this unspoken rule: every exciting, crazy, fun thing has to be experienced with you.
From treasure hunts that end up in unexpected fights with sea kings to races through bustling ports (where he definitely has no idea where he’s running but is laughing the whole time), Luffy wants you there, right in the middle of it all. You’d probably sigh at the thought of jumping headfirst into another unpredictable situation, but Luffy’s enthusiasm is like a gravitational pull—it’s impossible to resist.
And thank goodness for that, because your timid self wouldn’t stand a chance at taking the lead in any of these wild endeavors. Luckily, Luffy’s the type to charge forward, dragging you along by the hand with zero doubts and zero plans. He makes all the decisions for both of you, which, sure, sometimes means ending up lost on an island full of very angry, very large monkeys because, “They looked friendly!”
You’d feel a mix of exasperation and endearment at his antics. He doesn’t realize it, but his willingness to be the fearless leader—even if his plans are sometimes made with the strategic prowess of a rubber chicken—takes the pressure off you. You don’t have to stress over decisions or worry about whether you’re doing the right thing, because Luffy’s already ten steps ahead (probably literally sprinting) and dragging you along with a confidence that borders on reckless.
And honestly? That’s part of the charm. His “plans” might be half-baked and a little foolish, but he makes up for it by being completely and unapologetically himself.
You’d find yourself smiling more than you ever expected, getting swept up in the whirlwind that is Luffy, and realizing that being with him means never feeling alone, even if you’re quiet or shy.
His laughter, his outbursts, and his impulsive decisions would all become things you cherish, because with him leading the way, life feels a little less scary and a lot more exciting.
ACE
Ace is all warmth and energy, like a bonfire on a chilly night, and he’d go out of his way to make sure you feel comfortable in his presence. Despite his natural tendency for excitement and spontaneity, he’d be mindful of your shyness, making a conscious effort to dial down the volume when needed.
You’d catch him lowering his voice a bit, softening his laughter, or even sitting a little closer with a reassuring grin. His laid-back nature would do wonders for your anxiety, melting it away bit by bit like ice under the sun. He’d take a more casual, playful approach when he’s with you, balancing his liveliness with a kind of gentle attentiveness that makes your heart feel at ease.
Ace has a knack for starting conversations, even if the topic is completely random. He’d sense your hesitance and jump in without skipping a beat. “Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to cook for the crew and accidentally set a whole forest on fire?” he’d start, eyes twinkling as he watches your reaction.
His stories are always ridiculous—stories of clumsy mishaps, epic pranks gone wrong, or that one time he fell asleep mid-battle. You’d find yourself laughing in spite of yourself, the tension in your shoulders easing as you realize he’s making himself the butt of the joke, just to make you feel more at ease. He’d keep talking until he sees that spark of amusement in your eyes, and then keep going, his smile growing wider every time you giggle.
And Ace’s teasing? Oh, he’d be a master of that fine line between making you laugh and making you blush. He’d lean in, smirking just enough to be charming, and say, “What’s this? A smile? I knew it was in there somewhere.” His playful comments would come with a wink and a laugh, just enough to make your face warm, but never enough to make you feel like you’re being put on the spot.
If he ever saw you growing quiet or noticed that hint of panic in your eyes, he’d immediately back off, switching to a softer tone and throwing in a quick “I’m just messing with ya” followed by that disarming grin of his.
Ace would be incredibly in tune with your reactions, watching for the tiniest signs that you’re feeling overwhelmed. The moment he picks up on it, he’d change gears—maybe suggesting a quiet spot on deck where you could sit together and watch the stars, or offering to take a walk to get some fresh air. He’d brush off the seriousness with a light, “Hey, it’s just us. No pressure, alright?” The way he says it makes you feel safe, like it’s just you and him against the world, no expectations or worries allowed.
Ace is the definition of a warm hug in human form, so being a tactile person comes naturally to him. But when it comes to you, he’d show an impressive amount of restraint—not an easy feat for someone who’d usually throw an arm around a friend without thinking twice. Well, you’re not just his friend but his lover, obviously—but what I’m getting at us that he’s a pretty affectionate guy.
He’d start small, easing you into it with light touches: a friendly pat on the shoulder when you share a joke, a playful ruffle of your hair that would leave you smiling and maybe a little flustered. You’d catch the subtle glances he’d shoot you afterward, as if he’s silently checking, Was that okay? Did that make you uncomfortable? It’s endearing how he’s so in tune with your comfort level, his natural affection turned into a gentle dance of patience and care.
As time went on and your confidence around him grew, Ace would start to introduce more meaningful touches. He’d sneak in side hugs when you’re sitting together, leaning into you with that easygoing smile of his that made your heart race. And when the day finally came that you leaned into him on your own, whether it was out of exhaustion or just because you felt safe, the soft, proud look on his face would be priceless.
Ace would make a big deal out of it in the quietest way possible, his hand finding yours in a reassuring squeeze as if to say, Hey, look at you, being brave. Eventually, he’d graduate to full-on snuggling when you were comfortable, and the first time he wrapped you in his arms and pulled you close, you’d know just how deeply he cared.
And when social situations become too much—because let’s face it, Ace has a lot of friends and a magnetic personality that draws people in—he’d be the first to notice if you’re starting to feel overwhelmed.
In those moments, he’d spring into action without making it obvious. He’d tell a ridiculously over-the-top story, one that would steal the spotlight from everyone else and have the whole room’s attention fixed on him, leaving you a moment to breathe.
Ace would always throw himself into being the distraction, whether it meant cracking jokes or reenacting a failed stunt that ended with him pretending to trip over his own feet. He’d shoot you a quick wink in the middle of it, as if to say, See? I’ve got you.
It’s not that he wanted to be the center of attention—okay, maybe a little, but only when it’s for you.
He’d take on the role of court jester, chaos-maker, or even reluctant hero if it meant taking the pressure off you for a while. If anyone questioned it, he’d brush it off with a laugh and a shrug, all while keeping an eye on you to make sure you were okay.
And if things really got too much, Ace wouldn’t hesitate to steer you away from the noise altogether, leaning in close and saying, “Let’s get outta here for a bit, yeah?” He’d lead you somewhere quieter, a hand on your arm or fingers interlaced with yours, the simple touch grounding you as you walked.
You’d both end up somewhere peaceful, maybe under the stars or by a flickering campfire, where he’d wrap an arm around your shoulder and say, “You don’t have to explain. Just take your time.” And you would, with the steady thump of his heartbeat right next to yours, knowing he’d take on the world just to make sure you felt comfortable and safe.
Ace would be your number one cheerleader, hyped beyond belief over every little victory you achieved. You managed to say something in a group conversation? He’d beam at you like you just solved world peace. “Look at you go! You’re amazing!” he’d shout, probably a bit louder than necessary, with that signature grin that lights up his entire face.
If you reached out to touch his arm or, heaven forbid, initiated a hug, there’d be a solid five minutes of him staring at you in delighted disbelief before breaking out into an excited, “Did you just—? You did! You did!”
What you might not notice is that whenever you step even half a toe out of your comfort zone, Ace is in the background punching the air with all the subtlety of an over-caffeinated kid at a birthday party.
It doesn’t matter if it’s a tiny thing, like making eye contact with someone new, or a big step like saying a few words in front of the crew—Ace is celebrating it like you just discovered the One Piece itself.
He might look a bit unhinged to anyone passing by, but he’s never cared about that. You’re his person, and your wins are his wins. He’s just out here being the proudest guy alive, punching invisible foes and mouthing, That’s my partner!
And the way he looks at you? It’s like you’re the most priceless treasure in the world, and not just in the fleeting, pirate-wants-your-gold way. No, Ace’s gaze is full of warmth and genuine awe, the kind that makes you feel like you’re wrapped in a blanket of sunshine.
When you speak, whether it’s a confident statement or a hesitant mumble, Ace is all ears. His eyes would fix on you with this almost comically serious expression, nodding along like you’re revealing some ancient, life-altering secret.
You could point to the sky and say, “That’s the sky,” and he’d respond with a deep, earnest nod and a wide grin, “Exactly! I love that you noticed!” The rest of the crew might shake their heads and mutter things like, “Here they go again,” but Ace doesn’t care. If it matters to you, it matters to him—simple as that.
It doesn’t matter how mundane your observation is or how shyly you say it; to Ace, every word is golden. He’d hang on every syllable as if you were weaving a tale worthy of a bard’s song. You’d catch him repeating things you said back to you later, just to show he’d remembered, saying things like, “Oh yeah, like you said the other day, the sky really was a perfect blue.”
It’s almost ridiculous, but that’s Ace—he’d make you feel like every tiny thing you did was extraordinary, because in his eyes, it truly is.
SABO
Sabo is the calm breeze compared to the whirlwinds that are Luffy and Ace, which makes him the perfect blend of approachable and comforting.
With his natural ease and warm, diplomatic demeanor, you’d find yourself feeling more at peace around him sooner than you’d expect. Sabo’s the kind of person who could have a conversation with anyone, but when he’s with you, you’d feel like you’re the only one in the world that matters.
He’s just got this knack for making everything feel safe, like he’s a sturdy anchor in a storm. If you ever started to feel overwhelmed, Sabo would be the first to notice, with a quiet attentiveness that doesn’t scream I’m watching you but more like I’m here if you need me.
He’d be a master of subtlety, paying close attention to what made you nervous and what helped you open up, all without making it seem like he was analyzing you. You’d catch him making mental notes when you shifted uncomfortably or lit up at something specific. He’s probably like, “Write that down, write that down!” in his head.
And he’d use those observations to make your interactions more comfortable. If he noticed that certain topics or big crowds made you anxious, he’d steer conversations towards lighter things or find a reason to take a quiet walk somewhere less crowded.
Sabo would never rush you into sharing more than you were ready for. He understands that trust is built slowly, like adding logs to a fire, not dumping gasoline on it and hoping for the best.
Sabo would show his affection in the most considerate ways, taking into account what you’d find comforting rather than overwhelming. That being said, grand and dramatic gestures aren’t his style when it comes to you; he’d save those for his other acts of rebellion.
With you, he’d stick to smaller, more intimate actions. He’d brush his fingers across yours before holding your hand, always making sure it was welcome. He’d lean in a little closer when you’re talking, eyes fixed on you with that soft, attentive gaze of his that makes you feel like you have all the time in the world.
There’d be moments when he’d reach out with a light touch on your arm, or just the simple press of his shoulder against yours when you sat side by side, enough to let you know he was there but never too much to make you uncomfortable.
It’s like he has a sixth sense for what was just the right amount of closeness. And if you ever looked unsure or nervous, Sabo’s eyes would catch yours, full of warmth and encouragement, like he was silently saying, Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.
The patience he’d show would be unmatched; you could almost hear him mentally cheering you on even if you were just picking your words slowly or taking a deep breath before saying something important.
And the way he’d support you? Subtle but powerful. If you ever found yourself second-guessing or fumbling, he’d quietly step in to help redirect the conversation or offer a reassuring comment. “I think that’s a great point,” he’d say with genuine enthusiasm, giving you that extra boost of confidence.
And when you’d catch him watching you speak, the look in his eyes would always be one of admiration—never judgment, never pressure, just pure, patient support. And whether it’s a simple chat or a quiet walk together, Sabo’s presence would be your reminder that you’re valued, seen, and cherished, just as you are.
When it came to conversations, Sabo would be your guy for deep, meaningful talks, but with a healthy dose of humor to keep things light. He’d pick the coziest, quietest corner on the ship or at a café, leaning in with a thoughtful smile and saying, “Alright, you ready to hear some top-secret stories about Ace and Luffy’s greatest flops?” And he’d be off, recounting tales of Luffy trying to eat something he really, really shouldn’t have or Ace’s legendary nap times that ended in near-disaster.
His stories are designed not just to make you laugh, but to remind you that even these larger-than-life brothers were and still are total dorks sometimes. And before you know it, you’re easing into sharing a few of your own stories, prompted by his gentle encouragement and the safety his presence provided.
If there was ever a moment where you hinted at wanting to join in on an activity or step outside your comfort zone, Sabo would light up like someone just told him there was free cake on deck. But instead of jumping up and down and looking crazy, Sabo’s celebration would be the dignified, internal kind.
Picture a boardroom in his mind filled with 10 tiny Sabos all jumping out of their chairs, high-fiving each other, and throwing confetti in the air. On the outside, he’d just offer you that calm, reassuring grin and a simple, “You’ve got this. And if not, we’ll laugh about it later, yeah?”
He’d be your biggest silent cheerleader, always ready with a patient hand to guide you or a subtle nudge if you needed it. If you wanted to join in on a game or join a conversation but hesitated, Sabo would seamlessly include you, making it feel natural and not like he was pointing out your shyness.
He’d say things like, “Hey, I think Y/N would be perfect for this—what do you think?” and then shoot you a wink that says, See? Not so bad, right? And when you took that first step, whether it was a comment or a hesitant laugh at a joke, Sabo’s inner cheering squad would be losing their collective minds.
So while Ace might be punching the air and Luffy would probably shout, “You did it!” at full volume, Sabo would play it cool—at least on the outside. But don’t be fooled. The minute he see’s you trying something new or making a move outside your comfort zone, those 10 tiny Sabos in his head would be throwing a full-on carnival, complete with fireworks and dancing.
And he’d just keep giving you that look that said, You’re amazing, and I’m so proud of you. Because to him, you’re always worth celebrating, no matter what.
If there’s one thing Sabo doesn’t tolerate, it’s someone messing with the people he cares about. So if he spotted you feeling uncomfortable or noticed someone trying to be intimidating, he’d swoop in with the subtlety of a master diplomat. Sabo wouldn’t make a scene, but instead, he’d redirect the situation like an absolute pro.
Maybe he’d throw out a well-timed joke, ask a question that shifts the focus, or suddenly develop an urgent need for your opinion on something random, like, “Hey, didn’t you say you know a lot about… apples?” The offender would be left blinking, and you’d find yourself in a new conversation before you even realized what happened. Crisis averted, all thanks to Sabo’s suave social maneuvering.
And then there’s Sabo’s sweeter side—his covert operation of affection. He knows that grand, dramatic proclamations can sometimes make you want to dive head-first into the nearest bush, so he’s perfected the art of subtle, heartfelt gestures.
He’d leave little handwritten notes tucked in places he knows you’ll find, maybe in your favorite book or slipped under your plate at breakfast. Each note would be filled with the kind of genuine, thoughtful words that would make your heart do an embarrassing little flip. They’d say things like, I know you’re stronger than you think, and I can’t wait for the world to see it, too, or The stars were beautiful last night, but not as much as seeing you smile today.
And don’t even get started on the letters. Oh, the letters. Sabo would write you these intricate, beautifully crafted notes that read like they came straight from the heart of a poet who’s just returned from a victorious battle.
He could have just finished a day of intense Revolutionary Army missions, covered in dust and exhaustion, but you’d still get a note that starts with, Hey, you. I’m thinking about you, and ends with some metaphor about how your presence makes the world brighter, even when he’s knee-deep in chaos.
You’d find trinkets, too—maybe a small charm he found that reminded him of you or a pressed flower from somewhere he thought was pretty. It’s the little things that would make your day and remind you that, no matter what chaos he’s wrapped up in with the Revolutionary Army, you’re always on his mind. And when you’d look up at him, cheeks flushed from finding yet another one of his notes or small gifts, Sabo would just grin that charming, lopsided grin and say, “Did you find it? Good. I meant every word.”
He’s protective, thoughtful, and romantic in a way that feels like it’s tailored just for you. And even if he’s balancing the weight of revolutions and strategic plans, Sabo makes sure you know that you’re not just part of his life—you’re the best part.
More Posts from Bbsaeko and Others
Lost In The Shadow
masterlist • next
Batfam x zen'in!batsis!reader x jujutsu kaisen
sypnosis: living as Bruce Wayne daughter already hard enough. it's more harder when you're one of Zen'in survivor and the only jujutsu sorcerer in the family full of Vigilantes.
italics=speaks in japanese
warning: using a lot of ocs, people from jujutsu kaisen are already aged up to adulthood, post-culling game arc(jkk ending), swearings, abandonment, death, child trauma, i hate happiness, english is not my mother language, female reader insert, spoilers, violance vigilante stuff ykyk, etc.
[Name] had an ideal life from the beginning of her life. A small family, a good relationship with her parents, a friend to stay with, all the dolls she desires, and a family vacation in a tiny cabin on the "land of the rising sun" side of the country. [Name] never dares to forget a memory from childhood. It's unfortunate that such a recollection didn't endure for very long. They were forced to leave the country and go to New Jersey in order to escape the chaos there.
They landed in Gotham City, which is gloomy and full of crime, very different from what the young girl had anticipated. Her father reassured her that nothing would ever come her way, and he said this with the same smile that instantly calmed her thoughts. She nodded and smiled at him, knowing that it was only the calm before the storm. and folks who traveled far and wide for them following her parents. What followed was a hazy recollection buried beneath her sorrow; her father perished in an explosion, and even today [name] can still hear the deafening noises ringing in her ears. She pondered whether he would still be alive if she followed her mother's advice. Would he hold her close to him again? Her mother pulled her away from the site as the explosion's impact shattered the surrounding area, and she ran away to a place where the people who were pursuing her would never find her.
Nothing is ever the same. [name] is struggling to reintegrate into her former shell; she lost a piece of herself in that explosion, and almost three months have passed, yet nothing will ease the pain. She begins to miss her old home, her buddy, the cabin, and most of all, her papa. The young child even begins pleading with her mother to allow her to return to Okayama and resume their previous way of life. However, the woman gently declined, instead showing her affectionate caress for her daughter's hair without providing a reason, only the consolation of a puppy that sprang out of her shadow can temporarily ease her anxiety. and at such a young age, her cursed technique manifested.
She was wearing a cute [color] dress one day in their rented flat, and her mother was wearing the same dress. Were they anticipating a visitor? For whom might her mother be waiting? Her mother hurried to open the door of their apartment after hearing a gentle knock, and a man with blue eyes entered the room. He glanced at the woman with his cool, analytical façade; it was a face he recognized but couldn't identify. She was startled when the man's sharp gaze found [name] peeking behind her bedroom. "Zen'in, you've been hiding this the entire time?" As she welcomes him into the small flat, her mother's eyes narrow.
"Touche, like you would settle down for our sake if I stayed, Brucie," she remarks in a tone which seems almost sarcastic; she is annoyed enough to allow this man into their HER lives once again.
“[name] dearest come here would you? we have a guest coming.”
However, her mother's unpleasant tone shifted to one of compassion, as if she couldn't bear to vent her annoyance on her adorable young girl—never. her daughter nodded. Her small dress fluttered as she jogged a little to where her mother and the man were after [name] left her room at her mother's request (order). Like a leech clinging to its blood vessel, the girl stood near her mother. she saw him, Though she doesn't yet understand the language, she has seen the tall, famous man on television a few times, and her [color] eyes are adoring him attentively. Her mother left them alone while the older woman retrieved something from the back, leaving them awkwardly staring with shy, cute eyes. Bruce tried to strike up a conversation with the girl in the dress, but she only gave him confused and unsure answers. He realized that there was a language barrier between them and paused for a moment. He knows that her mother must have raised her in her mother tongue, Japanese, and possibly a few other languages from her stepfather's side, her papa's side.
When her mother finally comes back with the young child's bag, she leads them out of the small flat and into a luxurious suv. Let's say they go on a great adventure together. She still puts a barrier between herself and Bruce, but she still had fun even though the feeling was different without her papa by her side. When she returns after a run to retrieve a fallen flower from a nearby tree, the two are having an adult conversation.
"You have no idea, Megumi; there are tons of threats in my life. and I can't let the path I've picked put her life in harm. She's already lost.. Someone she cared about. Give it a second thought, Megumi.”
"It's safer with you rather than me; they're hunting me; they've got my husband. Bruce, and I won't let them get hold of my girl, not when I'm still breathing and still can fight."
“You can feel her loss, can you Bruce? If anything or anyone I trust to take care of my girl. I trust you and Pennyworth the most.”
As the voyage comes to a conclusion Night will arrive and they will head back to the SUV as the sunset turns everything orange. During the car drive back, [name]'s head hits the window, reminding her that it's not the way to her apartment but rather the notorious Wayne Manor. Puzzled by this, They all exited the SUV, and an elderly man was waiting for them. When he offered to take [name]'s bag, her mother let it, which made the young daughter feel awkwardly awkward. She pulled her mother's attire, and the mother lowered herself to her daughter's level.
“Listen to me [name]” Megumi started with a soft but firm approach, her soft hand finding its way to her daughter's chubby cheek, the familiar warmth soothing her worries. “From now on, you will refer to him as your Father, you will live with him as well as with mr. Pennyworth I want you to be on your best behavior while i.. sort things out with the bad people.” her tone is firm as she makes it sound to be. “You will be referred to as [name] Wayne. Do you understand?”
“...Father? but my father is only Papa. Mother are you.. leaving me here?”
After analyzing the connections, [name] concludes that their journey this morning was intended to be their final time together until they meet again. abandoning her in this large Manor with god knows who those people are. Bewildered and betrayed, she shook her head. Was what occurred three months ago the reason behind her mother's abandonment? Does she sees her as a burden?
“Nothing would ever be the same after this— everything would have changed after this, you must understand that we cannot meet again until I resolve the issues with those people. life as you know will be replaced with something else, but.. don't ever, ever give up”
“you will have a better life here, than i ever could give you now. be brave, [Name].”
Thus, knowing that it will be the last time, the mother strokes her daughter's head. As her mother stood up to be separated from her, the child's eyes started to fill with tears. Her tiny hand tries to get in touch with her mother in order to convince her to stay or simply take [name] with her.
“for a little while, you’ll be safe.”
and at that Megumi Zen’in disappear to the night, as well disappeared from [Name] Zen’in Wayne.
a/n: hellow! Greetings wherever you're I'm Mika, and this is the first batfam crossover fic i wrote personally sorry if there's an error or mistake regarding the lore cuz I'm still navigating at how to write in english to be honest and me forgotten some lore isn't any better too lmao
anyway english is not my first language as i state in warning don't expect something good huhu.
if you're wondering the story takes after the culling game/shibuya arc, after whatever ending Gege Akutami made up. ik that the Zen'in clan was massacred by Maki but i make an "what if" she didn't kill all of 'em? and don't mistake Megumi Zen'in as Fushiguro. They are a completely different person (obviously) they just had the same first name (my humor said it will be hilarious) and there will be major jjk spoiler but i'll try not to spoil as much
that's all for now!
next
Rockstar Girlfriend
Older!Damian Wayne x fem!Reader
wc: 3.7 K summary: You're Damian's girlfriend, and his family wants to visit your concert warnings: none, no y/n used, established relationship a/n: I often daydream about this scnenario, so here you go. divider from @super-marvel-dc , just the stuff I needed ! enjoy
Tuning your guitar does get on your nerves on tours, especially right before you need to go on stage and the E-string seems to snap any moment. Your earpiece counts the few last beats down before the lights go off and you have to be on stage, finally getting the guitar tuned for the show. The supporting band got off stage a few mintues ago, hyping you and your bandmates up for the show, since you are the main act. This band is the most sweetest you‘ve ever met, even when they play a little softer music than you.
Just in time, you get to your mic stand and can only see some flashlights from phones in the crowd before you and your band play the first chord of the opening song. Ear-deafening shouts and cheers errupt from the crowd, having to focus on staying in the rythm, also to begin singing on the right time.
The lightshow of the stage gives the crowd an even more beautiful and energetic view, most of them singing along the first words of the song while some record with their phones. It seems like you‘re singing to a see of people, not able to recognise this many faces or even identify some with the lights flickering to the beat of the music, having to focus on multiple things at the same time anyway. But one thing is that you are sure of. It‘s that your boyfriend should be here, most likely somewhere in the front rows. As you continue to play and sing, you‘re intently watching the crowd on the first rows, trying to make out where he is. It is nearly impossible though, the lightshow making it less possible to actually recognise anyone from the stage.
You give up after a moment and focus on performing, jumping around lightly at the parts where you don‘t need to sing and can have fun. It seems like the viewers also have a lot of fun with your music, seeing some mosh-pits form further in the back and middle. You had trouble believing it at first when you saw people file out of the hall with your first few concerts, that there are some rowdy and elder people who enjoy your music. They‘re probably the same ones in the pit right now. Good thing Damian is probably at the front, he would‘ve seriously injured people on accident.
Your band is two songs in, but the set list still has twenty songs left, promising for a long night. Damian is indeed by the front rows, standing among other hardcore fans who seem too desperate for his taste. But who is he to judge, he tries to make it to every concert you guys announce and play near by. Always getting some kind of merch by the merch stands before the show, small stickers or patches, you name it; he has it.
During a more heavy song, you engange with the crowd as usual, telling them to part the crowd for the up-coming breakdown. Of course, the crowd does a good job at that, some people in the front and back just watching the show and crowd while the band continues to play.
The breakdown, the most heaviest part of the song, start playing and the people create a ‚Wall of Death‘, it looking satisfying from your view. Your bassist does most of the screaming vocals on the extra mic stand, getting to play the thrilling chords on your guitar while watching the crowd have fun.
Finally, you meet eyes with Damian. He grins proudly, wearing a shirt with your band logo on it. He gives you a thumbs up, seemingly proud and happy to support you on one of your bigger perfomances. Normally, you play at smaller stages, but the support band and your new support and love from fans made this possible to happen. It‘s a sight to see, knowing all these people like the stuff you‘re creating for your own enjoyment and actively support your band because they want more of your music.
You‘re halfway through your setlist now, not being nervous at all now as you get used to the feeling fairly quickly. It‘s always during the middle of the set when it is time for a small break, getting to drink some water while engaging with the crowd and entertaining them. And who would your bandmates be if they wouldn‘t mess around with the other mic while you talk, making the crowd laugh and record the interaction with your band. After the joksters finally lock in, it‘s time to perform the last half of the set list. The crowd really does give their best on having fun, never having seen so many mosh pits in one of your concerts before.
The show comes to an end, being sweaty and worn out after the perfomance but you can‘t leave without throwing some guitar picks and drumming sticks to the crowd, a lot of them being happy over it and catching them.
Lastly, you could finally leave for the backstage and into your private room to get unready and settle down into your own respective homes.
»Was your lovey-dovey boyfriend here again?« Your drummer asks while drying his hair off with a towel, always talking about your boyfriend as if he would take him from you. In a friendly, funny way, of course.
»Yeah, somewhere in the front row. Why?«
You answer back while taking off your make up in front of a mirror, glancing behind your shoulder at him.
»I just saw him too. Seemed like he was wearing our merch!«
He tells you excitedly with a big grin, making sure to get his hair dry from his sweat.
»Yeah, he definitely wore our merch.« You nod back as your face is bare again, walking over to your bag at the couch. Your bandmates seem to giggle and mostly joke a bit around with how cheesy your boyfriend is, being used to their shenanigans by now. You settle down on the couch for a moment, your feet and legs aching from standing and performing for almost an hour tonight, having been preparing and helping the technicians with setting up the lightshow and stage this afternoon, since you feel bad for them doing all this for your band.
Eventually, you make your way outside of the arena to meet your boyfriend, having your bag over your shoulder while the staff is taking care of the rest. He is standing by the back door, right where you walked out of, greeting him with a tight hug.
»God, I‘m sweaty, I probably stink so bad...«
Damian doesn‘t even budge and keeps you in his arms, a soft expression on his face.
»So what? You were amazing up there. As always.«
He shrugs and doesn‘t seem to want to let go of you yet, swaying together from side to side which makes you both smile at the other.
Damian walks you home, ending up carrying you once you mention about your feet hurting. There‘s something deeply affectionate in the way he holds and carries you in his arms, not leaving room for any arguments about it.
The night ends with him dropping you off by your home, exchanging some fleeting kisses before he is forced to leave for patrol with the others.
----
The Wayne Mane, 11:26 PM
»Are you not going to explain why you‘re late this time?« Bruce gruff voice calls out once Damian joins the rest on the rooftop, changed in his suit and ready to patrol finally.
»He was at his girlfriends concert. They had a show nearby today.« Tim snitches, making it short but also making Damian glare at him even harder.
»Is that true?«
His father questions again and awaits his answer, receiving a nod as Damian looks at him finally.
»Yes, I was at her show. Bought a shirt.«
Batman simply sighs out but doesn‘t seem annoyed by it for more than five seconds.
»Where was it this time?« He asks with rather more curiousity, making Damian state the name of the city, having driven back by train with you together to drop you off safely.
The conversation doesn‘t last long as they begin to patrol, Damian having a bit of trouble hearing at first, still used to the loud music from earlier. The patrol ends up being as usual, no serious troubles.
----
Next morning at the Manor seems to be chaotic once again, some voices coming from the kitchen while Bruce is sipping on a cup of coffee with a newsletter in hand.
»Why can‘t we ever join when you‘re going out with her? She‘s so nice and fun to talk to, it‘s unfair!«
Dick complains from the kitchen as he prepares some toast for himself, Damian sitting by the kitchen island with a cup of tea in hand.
»If you wouldn‘t try to disturb their dates, maybe he would have her come over more frequently.«
Tim counters as he is at the kitchen island as well, working at his laptop. The eldest son groans dramatically, defending himself from the obvious truth.
»I‘m not trying to disturb them, just trying to talk and see how it‘s going...«
»Definitely invading their privacy.«
It seems like Dick still wants to spend more time all together with you and the family, but it‘s clear that you don‘t have much time now with your small tour going on and them being vigilantes.
»I would also like to see her more often, but you‘ve got to understand she has her own duties, just like us.«
Alfred chimes in as he walks into the kitchen, preparing more tea as he talks. The discussion is interrupted as Bruce finally walks in, interrupting the complains of Dick and mean comments from Damian.
»Why don‘t we visit one of her concerts? We‘ve never been to one before.«
It is really bizarre for him to suggest something like this, especially since he seems to need to work a lot lately. Maybe he has finally gone mad?
At the silence he receives, he continues, seeing the bewildered looks from his children.
»I‘m simply saying we never saw her perform. It can‘t be that bad, can it?«
Cass, who just happens to stand by the door studies the others, not being against it herself. She raises her hand with a nod, seemingly agreeing with the idea. Damian notices, and the rest does as well, making Jason speak up finally.
»She does rock and metal, right?«
»Yes, but — «
Damian really doesn‘t want the rest to tag along to the next concert you give in town, knowing it will mostly be embarrassing and they will probably get spotted more easily by reporters or simple fans.
But before he could finish his sentence, everyone raises their hand lightly, even Alfred being okay with the idea.
»Are you kidding me?« He sighs out, being clearly overpowered as the plan is settled.
The Wayne‘s will be at your next concert.
----
Your bandmates almost freak out once you tell them the news, Damian having called you and sheepishly admitted it, claiming it‘s his fault. Clearly, no one is upset. Actually, everyone seems to be freaking out for all the good reasons.
Now it‘s time to prepare for the show this evening, mostly texting with Damian and finally getting to prepare after getting teased by your bandmates once more.
You watch people arrive by the parking lot, seeing how many people already are inside in the arena with some drinks in hand, the show beginning in about half an hour. But you can‘t watch for much longer, getting dragged to the backstage to tune your guitar and warm up for the show. The supporting band plays first just like before, hyping each other up again.
"Are you there already? Please warn them about the supporting band, don't want them to get confused."
You text to Damian, hoping they are at least in the parking lot already and ready to watch the show.
"We got here an hour ago, saved some seats. I'll tell them about it."
He responds back fairly quickly, making you assume they're in the front row if they got in so early. Time goes by and the show starts, the support band starting their 45 minutes set before you come on stage and play your own set list.
As the other times, the band starts with more softer songs, getting progressively more heavy, but still not as heavy as your songs. Bruce stays standing beside Damian, not used to rock shows, but he clearly respects it and is just here out of curiousity and wants to support his 'almost-daughter-in-law' in some way. Dick seems to enjoy himself, even when this isn't his usual type of music. He is mostly fascinated by the enthusiastic crowd and how popular your band seems to be, even when you're about nineteen by now. Perks of starting young, he guesses.
Jason seems to be rather unimpressed by the show, claiming he expected some heavier stuff. But this is just the supporting band anyway, so Damian doesn't mind arguing over the loud music. Cass and Tim simply watch, them both having informend themselves before joining the show tonight. But they do seem to be rather amused by some fans. The flashing lights from the lightshow seems to amaze Cass the most though, being almost captivated by how pretty the lights shine and work on stage.
Eventually, the band goes off stage, meeting your band backstage and tells you all about the Wayne family being there, having forgotten to tell them earlier about it.
Now that it's your turn to perform, you feel more nervous than at other times. Usually, you get nervous just before the show, but it fades once you get to play the first few chords and riffs, the cheering form the crowd spurring you on even more.
This time it's different and the bassist seems to notice of it. She walks up to you, trying to hype you up and give you some motivational words, but they do little to calm your nerves down. It's too late anyway, being called up on stage by the staff. You quickly hop on stage with the rest, lights being turned off and the anticiaption rises. Your heartbeat quickens in your chest, hearing the happy crowd even with your earpiece on. The first song starts to play, strumming the intro on your guitar while doing your best to focus on getting the notes right and not play too fast.
The lights turn back on once you start to sing, as usual confident and smooth. In the back of your head you are still thinking about Damians whole family being here, not able to ignore the heart pounding heavily in your ears while you perform. You curse yourself inwardly for still being nervy, hating how new this feels, even though it's nothing new at all.
Continuing with the show, the song progresses into more heavy riffs and up beat tempo, getting a rich mix of an energetic and hearty sound. You get a smooth transition onto the next song, pushing through your slight nervousness to perform the second song with even more passion. As there are less singing parts, you get to jump around the stage a little and let go of the skittish energy inside you. From another perspective, it just looks like you're having fun.
Jason seems more impressed now, furrowing his brows lightly as he bops his head along the music lightly. Dick seems to completely lose it though, jumping with the other fans along and getting lost in the crowd eventually. Bruce stays stoic, focussing his eyes on you as he watches how you perform. You seem more alive and vibrant on stage, never having really seen you this bouncy before. Often times, when you came over, you seemed to be just a little shy but very polite. Here, you still seem to be a good soul, but a lot less shy. And that in front of probably over six hundered people.
Playing and performing the songs seem to get easier with time, not able to focus your eyes on specific people in the crowd, but it's probably better this way. Finally, you reach the half of the set list, not being nervous or anxiuos anymore. Well, you are a bit nervous since your bandmates promised to not do any embarressing stuff on stage, not entirely trusting them though.
As soon as you had a few gulps of water, you get back on your spot in the middle of the stage, hand resting on your hip while the other holds you guitar by neck for the meantime. It's time to entertain the crowd.
»A round of applause for our vocalist and her breathtaking perfomance!«
Of course, your bassist said something before you with his own extra mic stand. Nevertheless, the crowd fires up the atmosphere, getting loud shouts and cheers from them. Cass has to put her hands over her ears from how loud it is, all the while Damian smirks proudly and claps cheerfully.
»Thank you! Did you have to embarrass me?« You finally speak into your own mic as you turn to face Marcus, the bassist, earning a few chuckles from the large crowd.
Meanwhile, Jason has to physically hold Dick back from screaming something along the lines of 'We love you!' and 'You're my favourite band!' to you and fluster you more.
»Okay, ignore these goofballs for now. I need you all to part the sea for the next song. Shit's about to get heavy.« You have actually forgotten that Damian's whole family is here, realising only a moment later and immediately search for them in the crowd. You spot them being located more by the right side of the crowd, but still fairly in the middle and at the front row. Dick waves at you, earning a sheepish smile from you before focussing back on the show.
The lights turn off again, getting a countdown and metronome in your earpiece once more as the large crowd does their work and parts into two. Bruce is very confused, not getting what's about to happen. While it's not too loud he decides to ask.
»What's this about, Damian?« He only receives a sly smile from his youngest son, hoping he gets an answer.
»Are you ready for a Wall of Death?« You exclaim through the mic, earning many cheers and shouts back. But you aren't satisfied and ask again, getting an even louder response. Now Bruce knows what it's called but he has absolute zero idea what's about to happen.
Jason knows though and makes sure Cass is not in the way, not wanting to see dead bodies. The lights switch to red as usual, matching the rythm of your song again while the fans wait for the breakdown to drop. The bassist, Marcus, does most of the singing — or vocal screaming — in the song, leaving you to jump around and play some nasty riffs.
The parted crowd immediatly rushes at eachother, the Wall of death happening. Bruce watches with light fascination, not keeping his eye off the people as if to make sure nothing goes wrong. Your band goes on though, the songs playing easily and with passion as the show goes on.
Jason seems to enjoy it more himself, headbanging more to the music while he watches you perform, and for once doesn't regret going out with his family. As for the rest of the family... they aren't into this type of music, but stay until the end anyway and mostly take pride on watching you perform the songs out with your band on stage. ----
Going off stage after throwing some guitar picks and drumming sticks into the crowd, you feel exhausted again. Feet hurting, fingers and wrists needing some stretching and your shoulders ache lightly from the strap of the guitar. Your voice is needs a break for tonight as well. But ignoring that, you take your sweaty make up off and go about the same routine as usual, before you can take a proper shower back at home. Oh, right. You're sleeping over by Damians house this time.
Walking out of the building, you see the Bat family waiting by their limousine for you. Damian approaches you once he sees you, pulling you into a hug before he kisses your cheek.
»You did great. As always.« He tells you as every night, it still sounding genuine and loving when he says it.
»Thanks... what do they think?«
»I didn't ask. But they seem okay.« Damian answers you, earning a soft groan from you, both from exhaustion and slight nervousness of their opinions. He seems to sense it and chuckles lightly, rubbing your back gently with his hand.
»Stop making out, we've got places to be!« What seems to be Jason calls out, interrupting the small kiss you shared just now.
With a small groan, he tags you along by the waist. Bruce greets you with a brief nod, not wasting any time to speak up.
»Good evening. When Damian said you have a band, I didn't expect it to be something like this.« In fact, he expected the worst the first time he found out about it, but never got to actually see what it's like until now. It makes Dick and Jason roll their eyes, even earning a brief annoyed look from Cass.
»The music was great, don't worry. I even got into one of those mosh pits. I would go again.« Dick interwhines, smiling goofily at you. He definitely had a good time.
»Me too. Loved the heavier songs.« Jason adds onto, getting slightly surprised by his positive feedback. Maybe they are just glad to have had some fun in a while, knowing they work hard to protect the city.
You exchange a few more words with them, sitting into the limousine beside Damian, who keeps his arm around your waist the entire time. He can sense your tiredness, as does the rest, but they keep talking about the show and what they liked the best. It's actually good they do so, not needing to talk so much. While quietly sitting beside Damian, you see that Cass has a pin of your band logo at her bag, getting a bit flustered and happy on the inside. You can't hold it for long though, being worn out after the long concert and doze off against your lovers shoulder before even arriving back to the Manor.
a/n: Hope you enjoyed reading it!!
←MASTERLIST
Can you do a smau where the mha boys are clingy and needy of attention? 💘
🍓 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 attention please
texts with the bnha guys; fem! reader (aged up) characters included: katsuki bakugou, izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki, tenya iida, eijirou kirishima, denki kaminari.
! they want attention
warnings: sfw, fluff, angst-ish in todorokis part
➺ 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 | ♡
With how he fights and has that scar on his scary face, people would assume he's a mean and cold lover. One that forget your anniversary date and leave your messages on read. It was an offensive accusation to him, especially when it involves you.
Joker made sure to show everyone that you deserve everything in the world. Buying you things that would adore your pretty self, he didn’t care if he had to fight a extra match. As long you were happy and content with him, then Joker wouldn’t mind getting some bruises to see that sweet little smile on your face. Sure he doesn’t show it like those cheesy lovers on tv shows, but actions speak louder than words.
Whenever you two hold hands, He would make sure to press a kiss on the back of your hand before he had to let go. Silently telling you his love and affection towards you. Even though it’s a small and simple way of showing it, it still made your heart melt whenever he would do it. Joker remember the first time he did it, the two of you were walking to your place. Joker wanted to made sure you made it home safe from your job. Walking beside you like some bodyguard with that mean look that’s always on his face, while still holding your hand with such gentle care.
Once you made it home, you gave Joker your thanks and how you would see him tomorrow. His dull eyes staring down at you and nodding before bringing your hand up to his lips. Softly placing a kiss on your skin then letting go, telling you that he will pick you up in the morning. Not moving from his spot until you disappeared safely in your home, silently enjoying the bashful look on your cute face. Which played in his mind repeatedly, quietly vowing to himself to that he will be the one who will put that expression on your face every chance he gets.
So whoever thinks that Joker isn’t a good lover should come outside and catch these hands, because Joker will fight them and prove them wrong.
The Batboys being clingy headcanon:
Including Duke and Bruce <3
Hope you guys like it!
Tim Drake Tim’s clinginess is low-key, but it’s also constant. He’s the type to text you “What’s up? I miss you <3” while you’re just sitting 5 feet away from him. If you so much as stand up to go get a snack, he’s immediately there, like, “Where are you going? Don’t leave me.” He’ll lean against you, his hand finding yours without him even realizing it. When you're watching TV or reading, he’s definitely leaning into your side, trying to get as close as possible without being too obvious. But if you move to shift positions? Nope, he’s following you. He’ll slip his arm around your waist, all like, “Don’t think I didn’t notice that.” He’s not a big PDA guy, but when it’s just the two of you? Prepare for cuddles, hand-holding, and small, random kisses. He’s gotta be touching you constantly.
Jason Todd Jason is obsessive, no doubt. He’s that partner who’ll try to act like he’s tough and independent, but the moment you show him any kind of affection, he’s all over you. Like, you can’t just hug him. No. He’ll climb into your lap and basically trap you there, rubbing his face into your neck like a cat. He’s gonna constantly ask for kisses, too, but not just little pecks—he wants full-on, deep kisses where he can pull you close and remind you that you’re his. If you’re doing something, like, working or even hanging out with friends, he’ll try to drag you away, be like, “Hey, come hang out with me, stop ignoring me for two seconds.” He’s possessive, but in the cutest way, constantly needing your attention. If you even talk to another person for too long, he’ll give them side-eye and pull you back to him like, “You good? You’re not gonna leave me for some random guy, are you?” He’s also the type to cling to you in bed, hogging the covers and curling up like a human koala.
Dick Grayson Dick’s clingy energy is pure gold. He’s the most affectionate of the bunch and doesn’t shy away from public displays of love. He loves hugging you from behind, nuzzling into your neck, and just randomly planting kisses all over your face. He’ll text you “miss you <3” every few hours when you’re apart, and when you’re together? It’s all about touch. He’s sitting on your lap, or leaning on your shoulder, or pulling you into his chest just because he needs to be close to you. If you’re watching a movie, he’s definitely going to have his head in your lap, just to be as close to you as humanly possible. He gets giddy when he gets attention from you, too. You could be playing with his hair, and he’ll melt. He’ll whine like, “I’m not clingy, you’re clingy. But also, I love it. So don’t stop.” Honestly, Dick doesn’t care if he’s acting like a bit of a puppy—he’s obsessed with you, and he makes sure you know it.
Damian Wayne Damian’s clingy moments are hilariously dramatic. He might start out cold, acting like he doesn’t need anyone, but as soon as you show him any affection? He’s all in. He’ll randomly grab your hand and hold it like it’s the most important thing in the world. If you try to walk away from him for whatever reason, he’ll growl and pull you back in, like, “Where are you going? You’re staying right here.” He has this whole vibe of “I don’t need anyone else, just you”, so if you’re talking to someone else or looking away from him for too long, he’ll wrap his arm around your waist and be like, “I don’t think you should be talking to them. They might steal you away from me.” In bed? He’s a hug monster, wrapping his arms around you like he’s never letting you go. He’s all about the intimacy, though—when it’s just the two of you, he’ll be soft and surprisingly vulnerable, making sure you know that he needs you more than he lets on.
Duke Thomas Duke is lowkey super clingy, but in the way that’s goofy and endearing. He loves to follow you around, like, just wherever you go, he’s tagging along. You’re going to the kitchen? He’s there. To grab something from the laundry room? He’s there. If you sit down, he’s sitting on the floor next to you, asking if you want to “cuddle and watch dumb shows together.” He’s always finding excuses to touch you—like, his hand will just casually rest on your knee or he’ll come up behind you and play with your hair. And if you don’t give him attention? He’ll pout, even if he’s trying to play it off, like, “Aren’t you gonna give me a kiss? C’mon, don’t leave me hanging.” He’s the type who’ll give you a silly smile, lean in for a kiss, and then pull you into a full-on hug like, “Don’t go. I’m not done with you yet.” He’s all about the hugs, especially after a long day. You’ll be just chilling, and suddenly he’s like, “Hug time, right? Let me get one.”
Bruce Wayne Now, Bruce is not the type to openly admit he’s clingy. He’s still the stoic, brooding billionaire who’s been through a lot, but when it’s just the two of you? He’s softer than anyone expects. He’ll always make sure you’re physically close—his hand on your lower back, your legs touching when you sit next to him, and if he’s standing near you, his hand will casually rest on your arm. When you’re working late or doing something serious, Bruce will occasionally pull you away for a few minutes just to kiss you or hold you close. He’s not great at asking for attention, but when he’s feeling clingy, he’ll show you through little gestures. You’ll find him just sitting beside you in silence, just content to be in your presence. He’s a man of few words, but when he’s clingy, it’s all about the touch—the way he holds your hand, how he presses his shoulder to yours, and how he’ll insist on driving you home or waiting up for you, just to make sure you’re safe.
BATBOYS TOXIC TRAITS / RED FLAGS + GREEN FLAGS ── .✦
a/n: the thing is, they all aren’t like problematic when it comes to relationships but they do have some things and flaws which when heard sound “oh okay that’s fine” but may be like super annoying in a irl relationship also this was a request by anon (here)!
(Tags: batboys x reader)
DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
RED FLAGS:
Chronic People-Pleaser: Will prioritize everyone’s needs over his own (or yours), leading to burnout… and you having to remind him you exist.
Flirty by Nature: He’s not trying to flirt… it just happens. That waitress? Nope, not on purpose, but yeah, you’ll roll your eyes a lot.
Hero Complex: He always has to “save” people, including you, even when you’re perfectly fine handling it yourself. “I got it, babe.” No, you don’t, Dick.
GREEN FLAGS:
Emotionally Intelligent: He can read your mood like a book and knows exactly how to make you smile (with pancakes shaped like hearts).
Physical Affection Expert: Hugs, cuddles, forehead kisses—you’re basically his personal teddy bear.
Supportive King: He’s your biggest cheerleader, hyping you up in the most genuine, heartfelt ways. “That’s my girl.”
JASON TODD ── .✦
RED FLAGS:
Anger Issues: He’ll throw hands for you at the slightest provocation. Guy looks at you wrong? Jason’s already removing his jacket.
Emotionally Guarded: Good luck getting him to open up. He’s more likely to tell you his deepest fears after you’ve fallen asleep.
Reckless Behavior: He’ll drag you into the most insane situations and act like it’s no big deal. “What do you mean this is dangerous? It’s fine.”
GREEN FLAGS:
Loyal to a Fault: He’ll defend you with his life, no questions asked. “You mess with her, you mess with me.”
Soft Romantic: Beneath the tough exterior, he’s writing you sweet notes and remembering the little things, like how you take your coffee.
Protective (in a good way): He won’t smother you, but he’ll make sure you always feel safe, even if it’s just crossing the street.
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
RED FLAGS:
Workaholic: He’ll forget to eat, sleep, and sometimes text you back because “the case was just getting good!”
Overthinks Everything: Spends hours analyzing your last text to figure out if you were mad or just tired. “Was that period passive-aggressive?”
Terrible Self-Care: You’ll have to force him to drink water and go to bed like a mom with a rebellious child.
GREEN FLAGS:
Incredibly Thoughtful: He remembers every detail about you, from your favorite flower to that obscure hobby you mentioned once.
Adorably Awkward: His shy smiles and fumbling over words when you flirt back are endlessly endearing.
Problem Solver: He’ll find solutions to all your problems, from fixing your computer to making your bad day better with tea and soft music.
DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦
RED FLAGS:
Insanely Jealous: He glares daggers at anyone who looks at you too long. “Why is he breathing near you?”
Judgmental: He might critique your taste in music, books, or anything else with his usual bluntness. “This… is what you listen to?”
Control Freak: He likes things done a certain way and will try to “help” you by micromanaging your life.
GREEN FLAGS:
Devoted Partner: Once he’s in, he’s all in. You’ll never doubt his commitment because he’s always showing up for you.
Loyal Beyond Measure: He’ll defend your honor to anyone, even Bruce. “She’s perfect, Father. You simply lack taste.”
Surprisingly Gentle: Despite his tough exterior, he has a soft side that only you get to see, like the way he pets animals—or you—so tenderly.
BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
RED FLAGS:
Emotionally Repressed: He’s basically a human brick wall when it comes to expressing his feelings. “I’m… fine.” No, Bruce, you’re not.
Work Comes First: He’ll disappear into the Batcave for days unless you drag him out by the cape which becomes quickly annoying.
Overprotective: He’ll want to track your every move, not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he worries too much. “It’s for your safety.”
GREEN FLAGS:
Quietly Romantic: He may not be overly expressive, but he’ll show love through subtle gestures—like a bouquet of your favorite flowers left on the table.
Ultimate Provider: He makes sure you never want for anything, whether it’s emotional support or physical comfort.
Unshakable Devotion: Once you’ve captured his heart, he’s yours forever. There’s no halfway with Bruce—he’s in it for the long haul.
damian al ghul wayne dating hcs
tags. fluff, no angst :3 also my first damian work yipee!
i feel like this boy has a TON of drawings dedicated to you, or is you. like, your favorite food, animal, etc.
one time, he tried challenging his artistic skills by using ONLY your favorite color on one painting
it’s still his favorite painting
his hands literally have muscle memory on how to draw you 😭
speaking of muscle memory, i feel like he’d be the type to really memorize your face, every contour and line of it. while you’re not looking, he’s memorizing how your face is sculpted
very, very chivalrous. a rare trait we see from men these days
he’ll always open doors for you, pull out your chair, and always walk on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street.
despite his rich background, i feel that he isn’t the type to always shower you in gifts, rather, he gives you gifts that actually has meaning to them, rather than just buying you random luxury.
for example, you mention this one thing you’ve wanted ONCE, he buys it for you secretly, and you spot it outside of your doorstep a day later 😭
the type to be protective, but he’s not SMOTHERING you with his protective tendencies, if ykwim
he’s just hyper-aware when the both of you are in a public space together; you get one bad look at someone? he’s already thinking of countless of curses at the person.
he’s def not big on public displays of affection, but, he’s a HUGEE softie in private
if you tease him about it, he’ll give you a side-eye and definitely deadpan at you
i feel like he’d love dates with shooting ranges, just to test each other’s skills
he’s really competitive though
so when you beat him, he finds himself falling harder for you
his brothers say that his eyes never looked so bright until he met you
© 2024 JULSVU. all rights reserved. please don't plagiarize, translate, put in other websites or copy my work without permission. ty!
codename: nightingale- auld acquaintances
reference: young justice season 1 episode 26
wc: 10.3k
synopsis: well shit gets real, conner yeets ng and robin, all while, ng reminds us why she’s the best, and the otp(s) get their shit (collectively and respectively) together
main masterlist
codename: nightingale series masterlist
a/n: I CANNOT BELIEVE I DID IT. you guys and your support have carried me though this process and the many YEARS it took me to get to this point. I have loved writing this since the beginning and I still do. Thank you for loving this story and the characters as much as I do. Enjoy!
MOUNT JUSTICE
December 31st, 03:12 EST
The cave was quiet as you zeta’d in. You’d only managed a few hours of sleep before you woke up in a fit. Ollie’s penthouse was silent though. And a quick check through the security system told you no one but you was home, in fact no one had come home, since you had. The team had made the decision to host a debrief at 0730, the next day, allowing everyone (mostly you) to recenter.
Given that the penthouse was empty, you decided to head to the cave early, if you were lucky, you’d be able to check the logs and see if Ollie, Dinah, and Roy were still up in the Watchtower or not.
“Recognized: Nightingale b-14,” the computer’s voice echoed in the darkness of the cave, and a couple of light flickered on in response.
“Computer, pull Zeta logs for the last 24 hours to the Watchtower, Nightingale Access delta echo charlie zero six,” you call out your code after a brief look assures that you’re the only one around.
“Access Denied,” the computer’s response throws you off guard as you pull up a screen, but you’re treated to a red screen.
“Under who’s authority?”
“Designation 0-2.”
“Batman?” you whisper the answer to yourself, but you can’t understand why. You’ve had access to the Watch Tower logs since Ollie and Dinah told you about the tower. You couldn’t get there without them, but you could access the logs to see who’s there currently, and you could usually see the calendar to know when Dinah and Ollie were scheduled.
“Computer, Canary Override: charlie romeo yankee seven eight nine three,” you attempt.
“Override denied.”
“What? Why?”
“Override denied per designation A-0-4.”
“A-0-4? Who is A-0-4?”
“Access Denied.”
“Oh, fuck’s sake!” you shout.
“Perhaps yelling at our computer system is not the best use of your limited time to rest?” a new voice interrupts.
You frown as you turn to look at Kaldur, “it won’t let me access the Watch Tower logs,” you huff, pointing at the red message glaring back at you.
“Why are you looking to access the logs?” he asks, brows furrowed as he looks between you and the screen.
“No one came home last night, K. I needed- I wanted- I just need to talk to Dinah, after everything that happened? I just wanted Dinah or Ollie, and they weren’t home. I passed out on the couch waiting, and when I woke up, they still hadn’t come back. I just wanted to see if they were still there,” you explain.
Kaldur’s lips pull into a frown, “They may be pre-occupied, the League, as you know, better than most, can be demanding, even at the best of times, and with the best of offers,” he states.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you defend, sensing his double meaning.
“You mean to tell me, my King is but a liar?” he challenges.
You’re quiet for a moment, Kaldur knew better than anyone, just how much you respected King Orin, “what did he say, exactly?”
“That you were also accepted into the League, that you were by far the best candidate off all those who were inducted, and yet, you were the only one who has said no to date,” he admits.
Your voice is quiet as you look at your friend, before you sigh, “how long have you known?”
“Since the meeting in November.”
“You didn’t say anything…”
“Neither did you, I decided it’d be best to follow your lead. You would have said something when you were ready to,” he shrugs.
“I’m not ready. I don’t feel ready, to be there, at that level,” you explain.
“You owe me no explanation, old friend. I have always had faith in your decisions, I won’t start questioning them now,” he assures you.
“Thanks, K,” you sigh. “Did he really say I was the best candidate?”
Kaldur smiles knowingly, and gently places a hand on your shoulder, “Come, M’gann stress baked cookies last night upon our arrival. We can indulge in those while we watch something?”
“Yes, please.”
You both got settled on the green sofas with a plate of cookies on the coffee table before you, and two mugs of tea. You were flipping through the available options when Kaldur spoke up again.
“I watched when you were barely in double digits trying to learn how to sort through your feelings and emotions,” he began and your grip on the mug tightened, while your hand with the remote dropped. “I watched as you turned it into a motivator, a strength. I watched how you learned to center yourself and be objective, even with only a decade beneath you. What you feel now, how you feel now, might be stronger, but you know how to utilize that, you know how to sort it. But until you can, until you’re able and ready, I hope you know I will be here to temper it. Just as I was before,” his tone is firm, as he expresses himself.
Slowly your gaze moves to him, and you take him in. This Kaldur was nearly an adult, he had given up the Conservatory, and trained with King Orin. This Kaldur taught you Atlantean, he helped you learn how to open yourself to magic.
“Kaldur…”
“We used to spar, do you remember? You were so full of rage and I remember the Queen sending me to spar with you one day. Garth and Tulla thought it would be unfair, they thought that with my age, my size, my magical and home advantage, you would be unable to compete. Fitting, that you knocked me down in mere minutes, despite being slowed by the water, despite being in a new place, despite your age and size. It was then that we all realized that you hold so much raw power, much more than you ever seemed to realize yourself.”
“You’d think you would’ve learned your lesson after Wally,” you scoff, sniffing to yourself and recalling the first time you met the boys.
“Oh, I did. Which is why I asked for you to be included in our studies, it’s why you studied with me, specifically, at the conservatory. You needed an outlet, then. So, you studied with us, trained with us, and despite not being naturally adept at magic, despite being out of your element, you held your own, you beat us several times. You mastered skills quicker than we ever did. You needed the distraction, to let go of all that you had been forced to carry at such a young age. I just hope you can trust me to help you with that again.”
“You were my first true friend, Kaldur’ahm. I had Roy, but he had always been introduced as a brother, you were a friend. You saw me, the realest version of me, rageful, angry, upset, scared, all of the negative emotions and you still decided that you would help me. You have always looked out for me, and you have always had my trust,” you’re resolute in your answer, no one had supported you through the hard parts like Kaldur had, because he was right. He had seen you at your angriest, he’d watched you fight as an outlet, seen you train yourself to the brink of exhaustion just to be free of the rage, even for a minute, and instead of telling you that you were wrong for your methods, he instead offered you new outlets, new opportunities. He lent you his strength and stability when you had none.
“I am honored to hold that title, my bird. We made a promise, you remember? A piece of our histories intertwined,” he states, smiling at you as he tugs a gold chain from under his shirt. Your gaze lingers on it for a moment before dropping to the ring you’d been subconsciously fidgeting with.
The ring that had allowed you to breathe underwater, the one that allowed you to live in Atlantis as if you were an Atlantean yourself, it was obviously special. But what made it so treasured was not the gift it gave, it was the who the gift was from. The ring had belonged to Kaldur’s mother. It had been she, who when King Orin asked for a volunteer, a home for the girl from the dry world, had stepped forward. She had opened her home, and had offered the ring to be enchanted for you. She became your advocate while you lived in Atlantis, she treated you like you were one of her own. When it was finally time for you to return to your home, over a year later, she had told you to keep the ring, “I’d always hoped to pass this ring to a daughter,” she’d said, and you cried as you hugged her one last time.
On Kaldur’s first trip to visit you, merely a month after you’d gone back to Star City, you’d given him a chain. It had belonged to your father, and he’d worn it his whole life. Something that had been gifted to him when he was young from his father, who got it from his father before him. There’s a small pendent that hangs, your family’s crest, just like on your ring, they were a set technically.
You’d managed to enchant the item with your limited ability just in time for Kaldur’s first visit. “It’s meant to be passed to sons. I’d really like it if our histories were intwined. If I’m going to carry such a meaningful part of yours and your mom’s history, then I’d really like if you were to carry this of mine.” As far as you know, he hadn’t taken it off since you gave it to him almost three years ago.
The frown reappears on your lips as you look at the chain, and then at Kaldur. “Sometimes… I wish I was still there. It was easier living with you. There were no secret machinations, just you and me, and Garth and Tulla. I- I was hurting, I know that, but-”
“I understand,” he promises and you can’t help but let out a watery laugh.
“Of course you do. You’re Kaldur’ahm, no one ever seems to understand me as well as you do,” you smile.
“Rest, my friend, you have earned it. Our debrief with the Batman is 0730, however, I suspect he will be here early.”
“0700?” you ask.
“See you then,” he promises, tossing you a pillow and a blanket.
“Thanks, K, for everything,” you smiled, plopping back.
“Anytime, my friend, anytime.”
MOUNT JUSTICE December 31st, 06:30 EST
When you wake up again, it’s to Conner staring down at you with a quirked brow.
“Shit, Conner, why are you just staring at me like that?” you groan rubbing at your eyes.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you yet,” he admits, one hand rubbing at his neck.
“Yeah, I came earlier this morning. Canary and GA were at the Tower all night long. K, sat with me for a while.”
“Well, since you’re here… maybe we can talk about-”
“About your dad?” you ask, staring up at the roof of the cave.
“Don’t. Please don’t call him that. There's so much to figure out, but he’s not… not my dad,” you haven't turned back to him yet, but you can hear the tension in his tone.
“Genetic Donor then?” you offer turning back to him with a lazy smirk before adjusting yourself to lean against the arm of the sofa, tucking your legs beneath you.
“Genetic Donor works,” he sighs, sitting down in the now empty space on the sofa with you.
It’s silent for a minute as you both process, and then you're giggling. Conner’s eyes blow wide, as he stares at you. You cant help yourself though. Your giggles soon turn to full blown laughs, tears forming in your eyes.
“NG… nightingale… (y/n)!” Conners tone grew increasingly harried with each call to you.
“I’m sorry, I- I just… he killed my parents. I’m an orphan… be-because of Lex fucking Luthor, and he’s the only reason you're even here. He’s the reason I’m here!” you’re still laughing.
It has to be some sort of break, your mind finally deciding it's had enough.
That's when the laughs trail off, and you're left with tears.
You stop heaving and you take a deep breath, everything grows silent, you shut your eyes and center yourself. When you open your eyes you're staring at Conner again.
“I don't know how to fix this,” he admits.
You offer him a weak smile as your shoulders droop, “you can't,” you relent and Conner sags back into the sofa too.
“What now?” he asks.
“We be honest with each other, and the team. You and me, we're bonded by something now. I didn't realize it when we freed you from your pod, or when you helped us escape, but we are.”
“Allies against Lex?” he offers, holding out his hand.
“Allies against Lex,” you confirm, shaking his hand.
A not so innocent piece of you takes advantage and reads his emotions. You're reassured by the feelings of honesty, compassion, and belonging. You stare at Conner for a moment before letting go of his hand.
“What time is it?” you ask, stretching out a bit.
“You have about 15 until debrief.”
“Okay, thanks,” you sigh, standing up.
“I’ll see you in the cortex?” he asks, standing up as well.
“Yeah,” you confirm before heading to the locker room.
You're all standing in a line when Batman finally zetas in. You hadn’t had a chance to talk to Rob, or anyone else from the team about yesterday before he arrived.
He starts by asking for a rundown of events. Which we oblige. We explain everything from start to finish, the reveals, the truths, the plan for Santa Prisca. Everything leading up to the moment of Lex Luthor’s escape.
And when all of that is said and done you swallow your fears down hard before stepping forward, “Additionally, after defeating Bane with Robin and Zatanna, when I became aware of Luthor’s escape-”
“She was a little upset, which I’d argue is completely warranted considering everything we found out yesterday,” Wally cuts in, interrupting you before you can admit to how you lost control.
“Yes, but-” your second attempt is interrupted as well.
“Which is why we would like to request that the development of a case against Luthor be a Team priority,” Robin’s the one to cut in this time, proffering an official request on behalf of the team.
You risk a glance at the Team, and you don’t need M’gann’s abilities to understand what they're trying to say. So you shut up, and step back in line, waiting for Batman’s response to the debrief as well as the request.
He doesn't say anything for a minute, and then Kaldur is stepping in, “We have reason to feel proud of yesterday's victories. But one thing has not changed,” he alludes.
“Somehow, the bad guys are still getting intel about us,” Robin offers.
“Yeah, but at least we know none of us are the mole,” Wally counters.
For the first time that morning Batman finally speaks up, “That's correct,” he confirms, and he does so with serious conviction.
You want to be reassured by his confirmation, but something about the whole briefing was throwing you off, and it wasn't the discussion of Luthor.
“The mole,” he begins again, “was Red Arrow.”
Theres a brief silence as Roy’s image is displayed before everyone explodes.
“Roy?” Robin repeats disbelievingly.
“No way!” Wally’s voice had pitched up in his rebuttal.
You on the other hand, felt as the first of the strings holding you up snapped. Kaldur places a hand on your shoulder as if he knew, before turning back to the Dark Knight, “Batman, that cannot be. He was Green Arrow's protégé. We have all known him for years.”
“Unfortunately, the Roy Harper we have known for the last three years is another Project Cadmus clone,” Red Tornado explains.
You have to fight to catch your breath, this couldn’t be happening. You’d known Roy longer than that, you would've realized!
“We've learned the real Speedy was abducted and replaced soon after becoming Green Arrow's sidekick,” Batman explains and you finally step forward.
“No,” the seriousness of the word echoes in the cave. “I’ve known Roy longer than that, its been way more than three years! I would have noticed if CADMUS had substituted my own brother in front of me!” your argument is urgent, something had to be wrong.
“Unless they took a self fabricated opportunity to substitute the clone in a time of chaos. Where Speedy’s patrol partner and closest confidant was… gone?” Batman paints a picture but you're so hyper-focused on the Roy of it all you miss what he’s hinting to.
Theres a sharp intake of breath behind you, when you turn you see Kaldur, his eyes wide as he stares at you, “You came to Atlantis almost four years ago, you were gone from the surface world for over a year…” he reminds you, and you feel another string snap.
“No.”
“You said everyone seemed different, you were different, you were re-adjusting, it’d be reasonable to assume you wouldn't have noticed,” Kaldur’s tone is soft.
“No! Don't you understand?” you shout, turning to the team. “If that's true, it means the riot where they escaped was planned, they meant to cause a distraction, to throw us off guard so that they could switch-”
“Switch their Roy for ours,” Wally finishes, green eyes full of remorse on your behalf.
“And they waited almost year to put that into action, capitalizing off of the disarray of Star City's heroes,” Artemis tacks on.
“I would have noticed!” you argue, voice cracking as you try to reign in your emotions.
“The clone was pre-programmed with a drive to join the Justice League,” Batman intervenes, continuing to provide the information he had at hand. “Which is why he was so angry over any delays to his admission and why he refused to join the Team. This Roy Harper had no idea he was a clone or a traitor. And his subconscious programming drove him to become League-worthy. So he struck out on his own as Red Arrow.”
Your head was spinning, heart beating so fast and loud in your ears, it was a miracle you were still standing up. Something was wrong, something had to be wrong. Where was Dinah and Ollie? If this were true they’d come to tell you in person, they would. How could Ollie have not noticed? How could Dinah? Something had to be wrong.
“When he was finally admitted, his secondary programming kicked in and he attempted to betray the League to Vandal Savage.”
Your stomach flipped, Savage?
“Fortunately, I had already deduced Red Arrow was a clone. We were prepared.”
He had what?!
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you whisper, Conner and Kaldur seem to be the the only two who hear you as they offer you mildly concerned expressions.
“Savage was subdued but Red Arrow escaped. He is now a fugitive, armed and dangerous,” Red Tornado continues.
“If you guys hadn't rescued me from CADMUS...” Conner trails off, eyes jumping from me to Kaldur.
“What happened to the real Roy?” Rob’s the one to voice the question and your heart stutters. Real Roy as if the one you'd known since your return wasn't real in some way. They were both real, at least they were to you.
“We don't know. He isn't at Cadmus. We have to face the possibility that the real Roy Harper is dead.”
You can't stop it. The bubble of grief, pain, and guilt. It bursts out of you, and of course Kaldur’s the one to catch it. His hand lands heavily on your shoulder, and you take deep breaths to center yourself. They don't know, you remind yourself. He could be alive and on ice somewhere, you repeat. You're forcing thoughts of hope down your own throat, hoping something will be digestible.
The last thing you're expecting is for Robin to grab ahold of your hand, not in front of Batman, and not after yesterday’s incident. Today, however, he doesn't waver or flinch back like he had the day before, so you can't tell if he can feel what you are right now. He simply snags your hand and tightens his grasp, until you're squeezing back.
“The clone Roy. The Team will find him,” Kaldur decides, his tone leaves little space.
Yet, somehow, Batman blows it wide open, “Negative. Red Arrow's a member of the Justice League now. Leave him to us.”
There's an argument forming on your lips, but a beep from his comms forces you to shut up.
“I'm needed on the Watchtower. Tornado, stay with the kids,” Batman decides and Robins hand slackens a bit. Kids? Since when did Batman call you kids?
The zeta lights up a second later, “Recognized, Batman, zero-two.”
You turn and run to the closest bathroom, you can hear as a few people shout after you, but you’re focused on making it to the bathroom. Your knees hit the ground hard as you all but collapse and then your heaving up the little that’s in your stomach. The protein bar and cookies that Conner had swiped from the kitchen for you, the orange juice Kaldur had poured for you, and the the blueberries that you’d scarfed down as well.
There’s a hand on your back, another keeping your hair back. “Wally?” your voice is a hoarse whisper.
“It’s me,” he affirms.
You nod and close your eyes for a second before you’re heaving again.
“I got you,” he promises, gently rubbing circles into your back.
You knew that, Wally’s always got your back. You know he probably didn’t hesitate to chase after to you, and that he most likely told everyone else to stay back. “I would have noticed,” you repeat.
“(Y/n)…”
“I should have noticed,” you say, sliding back, wiping at your mouth and leaning against the wall before turning to your friend.
“That’s not on you,” Wally argued.
“He’s my brother, my responsibility,” you shoot back.
“C’mon, let’s get you back before Rob starts panicking,” he huffs, pulling you up.
“I need to bru-” before you can finish Wally disappears and reappears with the toothbrush from your locker and a tube of toothpaste.
“Your teeth?” he asks cheekily.
You shake your head before quickly brushing your teeth. When you and Wally get back it’s to Kaldur’s awaiting stare. You offer a nod and he turns to face the rest of the team before looking back at you. He gives you a look signifying that it was your move this time, your call. Your stomach’s still unsettled but you swallow down your nerves and confusion before addressing the team.
“Clone or no clone, Red Arrow was one of us. For three years, he was ours. We will go after him, and we will figure this out, on our terms,” you decide.
You had planned to say more, but the sudden sounds from Red Tornado force you to stop. He freezes about a foot and a half away from you. Then, it's like he shut down. A sound as if he was being powered down, as the entire armor freezes, and his head tilts down.
“Tornado!” M’gann’s shout is slightly panicked.
“What happened?” Conner’s squinting.
“He's powered down,” Wally notes, tone slightly curious.
“All functions off-line,” Robins got a frown as well, analyzing Red Tornadoes stats on his wrist-computer.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” you note, staring between the stats as well as Tornado.
“Guys, I'm sensing a low-level mystic force at play. I don't know if it caused his shutdown, but… now that I think about it, I was getting the same buzz off Batman,” Zatanna admits, and your frown deepens.
“Batman,” Robin repeats. “He called us kids. He never does that.”
You step forward, analyzing every aspect of Tornado that you could, Wally comes up behind you and does the same.
“Look,” Wally’s call pulls your attention. When he straightens up you can see something in his hands, “One of those bio-tech chips we confiscated off Cheshire.”
“Nightingale is right, something is not right,” Kaldur agrees. “Robin, Kid, Zatanna, Rocket, see if you can get Tornado back online,” he directs. “The rest with me to find Ro... Red Arrow.”
The team pauses despite Kaldur’s clear instruction, and slowly they look from him, to each other, and then to you. You know why they paused, even Kaldur seems frozen as he stares at you. His decision would put you into the field, it would allow you to look for Roy, to be there when the Team finds him. Going with them would also separate you from both Wally and Dick.
You must’ve stayed silent too long, “Birdy,” Wally’s voice seemed to echo as he called out your name.
“Sorry,” you mutter, looking up. “Kaldur’s right, we.. uh, we have to split up.”
Wally and Dick look at each other and then they look at you.
“It’ll be okay,” you tell them. “I have to find him, my brother, my responsibility. Plus, who knows him better than me?”
No one has an answer and you nod.
“Suit up,” you confirm once more before the team nods, and disperses accordingly.
Wally, Dick, and Kaldur hang back. The three of them don’t speak, but they’re exchanging looks with each other and with yourself. No one says a word, but you offer a look of your own, and then roll your eyes at them. They pause and as always, Wally’s the first to crack. He throws his hands up looking at the two other boys and then gesturing to you. When that doesn’t get the response he wants, he throws his hands up again, waving them around.
You smile softly, hands coming to Wally’s shoulders. You offer a forced lopsided smile, tilting your head to the side. Wally responds by shaking his head, and you tighten your grip. You give him a pleading look, Wally’s face scrunches but he finally stares at you head on. You nod, gently and he sighs before nodding back.
You pass along a feeling of comfort, trying to make him understand that it’ll be okay.
“Yeah,” Wally confirms, before walking off.
Kaldur offers you a nod of his head and you nod back, before he walks toward the bioship.
You pause for a second and take a breath, and then there’s a hand on your shoulder and you’re hit with concern, longing, and a need to protect. You take another breath and turn to face Dick. He’s staring at you for a second, he opens his mouth and then closes it. In the end he stares at you making a closed fist with his right hand and rubs little clockwise circles on his chest. Your ASL was passable, a skill that Dinah and Ollie thought was important to learn for the streets, it seems like Bruce thought the same for Dick. Sorry, that’s what he was saying.
You know what he’s sorry for, you knew it the second he grabbed your hand. You take your right hand, rub a circle with your palm against your chest, and then with a flat hand swipe above your temple with your fingertips, I know.
He shakes his head, the barest of a smile on his lips.
You offer a soft smile at Dick one last time before walking towards the locker room. You’re quick to grab your gear, and you’re silent until your in the bioship, and in the air.
“Old friend,” Kaldur’s voice is soft inside the bioship, but you’re forced to pay attention to him regardless.
“I know what you’re going to say,” you sigh.
“Oh?”
“It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known,” you trail off.
“Wrong,” Artemis interrupts.
“Am I?”
“Yeah, we were all going to say it,” Conner scoffed.
You soften at that.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” you say sadly.
“How so?” M’gann’s voice is as soft as it has always been.
“Because I did know, a piece of me did, at least,” you tell them, gaze focusing on the clouds as you pass them by out the window.
“What?” Conner’s accusation cuts clear.
“I knew something was wrong. I could feel it. Ever since my abilities… he would get angry, over things he never used to. I just wrote it off, I- I knew it was wrong, it felt wrong, it didn’t feel like natural anger, it was sudden, it was triggered but not by anything I could see. I should’ve said something, should’ve told someone,” you admit to them.
“You had no reason to suspect ulterior machinations,” Kaldur countered. “And though I know it bothers you, you both had grown apart since the foundation of the team.”
“Yeah,” you nod, fingers tracing over the ring dagger you’d been fidgeting with, “maybe.”
WASHINGTON, D.C. December 31st, 09:06 EST
“Logs indicate Red Arrow zeta'd to the Hall from the Watchtower,” Artemis stated, “But he could be anywhere by now, I also was only able to read the Hall logs, the Watchtower ones have been classified,” she adds on.
Kaldur clears his throat and turns to you expectantly, “So, I kind of didn’t appreciate how Roy tried to cut ties with everyone when he went solo, so I might’ve done some digging…” you trail, typing in new coordinates.
“Digging?” Conner asks.
“Okay, fine, investigating, and tailing, and the whole package pretty much. I found his main apartment, and discovered that he had installed equipment caches in several major cities,” you relent.
Conner coughs out, “stalker,” before clearing his throat, and you roll your eyes.
“One is here,” you continue as the bioship comes to a stop over an apartment complex.
“So… who’s going down, because, uh… not it,” Artemis muses weakly.
“I am,” you assure her.
“We are,” Kaldur corrects.
You nod and you both stand, you readjust your utility belt and pull a sweatshirt over the top of your suit, and then you pull your leather jacket on as well. It looks inconspicuous enough, at least as much as it would ever for your needs.
You and Kaldur drop to the roof, the access door was unlocked and you made your way down one floor. Roy had gotten an apartment on the top floor. When you come upon the door you crouch down with your lock picks, but between your latent anxiety, and the need to find Roy, your focus is slightly skewed.
“Perhaps, this is not the time for stealth?” Kaldur offers sagely.
You sigh and hang your head, hiding your lock pick tools in their place under your sleeve once again, “yeah.”
“Shall I? Or, would you like to?” he asks, gesturing to the door.
“I will,” you nod, standing back up.
You take a breath and stare at the door, and then with a heafty amount of force you kick down the door, you manage to put in enough force to rock the door off a hinge, and when it clears your vision you’re greeted by Roy holding up his bow with two arrows notched.
You notice the way his hand dips a second as he realizes it’s you he’s got an arrow focused on, “How’s it hanging, Roy?” you ask, but there’s a tough edge to your tone.
“You know, business as usual, Birdy,” he huffs out, but he retrains the arrows on you both.
“We have not come to harm nor apprehend you,” Kaldur cuts in. “But the Team requires answers-”
“Me first,” Roy interrupts. “Tell me something you haven’t told anyone else… tell me who broke your heart.”
Your jaw drops, “Roy!” your tone is more chastising than it was before. You know why it’s necessary, but it’s a low blow for Kaldur, a very low blow.
Kaldur places a hand on your shoulder, “Tula. The girl I loved chose my best friend Garth over me,” he answers, and you can hear the fight to keep his voice level. “While the man I consider by best friend on the surface world aims an arrow at my chest.”
Roy moves and suddenly both arrows are pointed at you.
“Roy-” Kaldur’s tone turned dangerous, but to your credit your eyes narrow and you tilt your chin up at him daringly.
“E.T. phone home,” Roy says, and you don’t need to touch Kaldur to feel the confusion rolling off of him.
There’s a pang in your heart, Roy, this Roy, was pulling on one of the earliest decisions you all made, code phrases. Methods to promise sanity, self, but also a warning when necessary. They were all movie phrases, famous enough to remember, but mismatched enough that no one would be able to guess. You’d both decided on them after you’d returned from Atlantis and Dinah let you return to patrol.
“Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” you whisper.
Roy’s entire body sags. The bow and arrows clatter to the floor as he drops to his knees, and you’re quick to drop with him. You land on your knees right in front of him.
“You’re killin’ me, Smalls,” you whisper once again to him.
“As if,” he shoots back, and you crush him in a hug.
The both of you clutch onto each other, you grip him tight just for the minute being. You hug him tight and he hugs back, and you revel in it. In it’s familiarity. He might have not been the Roy that was brought home to you, but he is the one you spent the last three years with, he is still your Roy. The one who helped you readjust to being back in Star City, the one who would drive you to school, and would tap you gently when you’d accidentally slip back into Atlantean. The one who would reassure you that life was going to be okay, who would sit beside your bed, who would hold your hand, who watched your back, he was your brother. Your brother, your responsibility.
Slowly you both re-centered, and then you hauled him up to the roof, and then all three of you were pulled back up into the bioship. It’s quiet when you’re all back.
“We’re clear,” you say quietly and there’s a collective breath let out.
Everyone settled into their seats and soon enough we were back in the air.
Kaldur doesn’t waste any time, “We were told you were the mole,” he explains and Roy puffs out a breath.
“But we have reason to doubt,” you quickly inserted.
“Forget doubt. I was the mole,” Roy states, and you let out an audible groan, staring up at the roof of the ship.
“Batman and Tornado said you’re a CADMUS clone, like me,” Conner admits.
Roy turns to look at you, and you offer a slight nod, “That explains it,” he nods with a sigh that makes him seem more tired than surprised. “I was a sleeper agent, pre-programmed to infiltrate the League…. I think Sportsmaster was my handler. He had a key-phrase, Broken Arrow… that could shut me down, put me in a hypnotic state to steal secrets for his superiors, or incorporate further programming. I'd then carry out all orders subconsciously completely unaware of what drove me.”
Roy paused and you stared back at him, “take me back?” you whisper to him and he shut his eyes and nodded once more before turning back to the rest of the team, specifically the three seated behind you.
“I think one of those orders was to focus suspicion on the three of you. I'm sorry,” he adds on.
“How did Batman discover this and prevent you from betraying the League?” Kaldur asks.
Roy pauses, and looks at you, “He didn't.”
“Fuck,” you sigh.
“Birdy,” Kaldur’s voice is level, and there’s a request in it to make sure you remain so as well.
“So what happened?” you ask, pulling yourself together.
“The entire League’s been put under mental domination via those chips you guys found,” Roy sighs, scrubbing at his face.
“The ones we got off Jade?” Artemis cut in.
“Yeah, he called ‘em Starro-tech, an alien bio-organism infused with nanotechnology and magic,” Roy explained.
“Nanotechnology and magic?” you repeat. “Artemis, in the Bayou, you said you saw-”
“Klarion, the Brain, Gorilla Mallah, and Professor Ivo,” she answers.
“If there was ever a trust that could pull something like that off…” you trail.
“What do they do? The chips?
“It shuts down the mind’s autonomy, allows the controller to reprogram the individual to suit their needs,” Roy explains.
“Wait…” Conner calls interrupting. “You said He called them, who’s he?”
Roy grimaces, looks around the ship and then straight at you, and you already don’t like where this is headed, “Savage,” he says and you don’t even make it a second before you explode.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you shout. “VANDAL SAVAGE? WHAT THE FUCK!”
“Language,” Roy says automatically, and then he twitches, like he hadn’t meant to say it. “And I knew you weren’t going to like that.”
“But this chip, it affected everyone?” M’gann asked, and you had no doubt she was thinking about her uncle.
“This Starro-tech, it worked on super-powered humans, four flavors of alien, an android, even Doctor Fate,” Roy explained.
“Defeating all of you without a fight?” Conner asks.
“Indeed. A remarkable achievement. One not easily countered,” Kaldur points out.
“I'm sorry, but how is it that you are no longer enslaved?” M’gann’s the one to ask and your body tenses up.
“No Starro-tech, for starters. Just my CADMUS programming, and once I had satisfied its last parameter, my mind began to clear,” Roy admits. “I'm sure Savage planned to Starro-tech me, but he paused to bask… I escaped.”
You turn in your seat and look back at M’gann, urging her to understand, and luckily, she does. She nods at you with a gentle smile, “I promise, I can clean any residual programming from your mind,” M’gann says, reassuring you, despite the intention being directed at Roy.
“Linking both squads and de-camouflaging,” M’gann’s voice suddenly echoes in your head and you spot the super cycle as it moves into docking position.
“Great. Because we really need to compare notes,” Robin’s voice has an edge, and as you come face to face with him and the other half of your team, you spot Wally’s frown and notice Dinah.
“What the fuck?” your voice takes on it’s own lethal edge as your gaze jumps from your unconscious and tied up mentor to the rest of the team.
It took some time but eventually both halves of the team had been caught up, now the only think left was to figure out the next move.
“What if we reverse engineer the starro-tech?” Wally’s the one to make the suggestion and it has all of you pausing.
“Great idea, but how?” Artemis’ tone is dry but she makes a valid point.
It goes quiet and that’s when you have an idea.
“ti tha ginótan an rotoúsame ti vasílissa?" (what if we were to ask the queen?) the question echoes across the link but only one person can understand.
Kaldur blinks slowly and in a hesitant tone asks, “*Rota tin gia ti akrivos?*" (ask her for what exactly?)
Your lip quirks a bit, “*an boroúme dioikitís Giatrós V?*" (if we can commandeer Doctor V?)
You’re not sure what you were expecting but you’re not sure why you were surprised, Kaldur’s always backed your plans, “Pistévete óti o Red échei akóma ton arithmó tis Roquette?" (Do you think Red still has Roquette’s number?)
You offer a lopsided smile, “**Tha chreiastoúme óli ti voítheia pou boroúme na pároume**." (We’re gonna need all the help we can get.)
“Would someone like to clue those of us not fluent in Atlantean in?” Conner’s tone cuts through your conversation.
You share another look with Kaldur.
“It’s your plan,” he prods.
“Wally has the right idea, we have to reverse engineer the chip. We don’t stand a chance if we don’t,” you remind everyone.
“But you have a plan that will address that,” Robin realizes.
“Of course she does, when it comes down to it, our girl’s always got a plan,” Wally snorts, but by the way he scrubs at his face you realize he’s on edge.
You nod, “what do we know about the staro-tech?”
“Alien bio-organisim infused with nanotechnology and magic… what are you thinking?” Roy trails.
“I think you have the number for a nanotechnologies expert who owes us a favor, and I happen to know a few individuals who specialize in magic and science, in fact they run a whole conservatory, that teaches kids like us, well, like Kaldur,” you hint to everyone else.
“Doctor Roquette and Queen Meera,” Robin realizes.
“Alongside Doctor Vulko, who runs the Atlantean Science Center, he’s the Minister of Science for the kingdom,” Kaldur adds.
“Doctor Spence too,” Connor adds, “She worked for CADMUS, she probably can help reverse engineer the chips.”
“Which means there’s also three people we need to pick up, ASAP,” you point out.
Another silence fils the ship, Wally’s already shaking his head, and Rob’s still staring straight at you.
“We have to split up,” Rocket’s the one to state the obvious.
“Again?” Zatanna’s voice wobbles a bit.
You bite down hard on your lip to keep yourself focused.
“We have to, the quicker we get them, the quicker we fix this. We have to fix this,” you say, voice level.
“How do you want to handle it?” Robin’s the one to ask, his own voice level, but you can see the twitch in his hand.
Your lips tug down as you prepare to answer, because there’s only one possibility, “Superboy and Miss Martian will pick up Dr. Spence. Kid Flash and Robin will escort Red Arrow-” you don’t mean for your voice to crack but it does. “Will escort Red Arrow and retrieve Dr. Roquette.”
“You’ve got to be joking,” Wally’s scoff, clearly depicts what he thinks of your decision.
“Dude,” Robin’s quick to cut him off.
“And Aqualad and I will take the super cycle to go to Atlantis,” you finish. “Artemis, Zee, and Rocket will play support, and keep tabs on Canary. Please do not lose my mentor. Plus they can run background with RT.”
You’re met with silence.
“This is the plan, if someone has a better idea, speak up now, otherwise, you know what you have to do,” you swallow back the anxiety, and focus your gaze on Kaldur, you can’t look at anyone else, not right now.
You remember his words from earlier, to lean on him, and to allow him to support you. It was all so overwhelming, it’s all too much, but staring at Kaldur reminded you of the little girl who was barely 10 when she was dropped in Atlantis. The girl so full of rage she couldn’t sort through her own emotions. Kaldur knew how to help that girl center herself, taught her how to cope and handle things.
“Well if no one else is going to say it; I have some thoughts,” Wally scoffs again.
“Trust me, we know you do, Wall-Man,” Artemis’ dry tone actually puts a smile on your lips, a small quirk of a thing, but it works.
“I’m only taking constructive criticism at the moment,” you tag on, and your gaze finally flickers to Wally who is simply glaring at you.
You offer a shrug in response, and you can feel the heat of Wally’s glare, the discomfort radiating off of Dick, but you don’t have it in you right now to address it.
ATLANTIS December 31st, 13:13 EST
“Our friends are… displeased,” Kaldur notes cautiously once it’s just the two of you on the supercycle.
“I know,” you nod, and you did, you felt it in the air, rolling off your teammates, your friends, as you and Kaldur geared up to split off.
“What are you thinking, poulí?” the question weighs heavy on you.
“I am thinking that this is my only plan, K. I don’t have a back up if we should fail this time around,” you admit.
“Then it’s good we trust in your planning, old friend. Your plans have never led us astray thus far,” he muses.
“Define astray,” you scoff back, Kaldur lets a smile slip, and then a hand lands on your shoulder comfortingly.
“They believe in you, and so do I,” he reassures you. “This idea, utilizing our resources, it is a good plan.”
“Vandal Savage, Kaldur, it’s a big play we’re chancing at here,” you sigh, twisting your rings nervously.
“Yes, and we are making the most educated choices we can. Believe in yourself, poulí, just as we do.”
You nod silently doing your best to absorb Kaldur’s reassurances. Soon enough the Super-cycle begins to descend. It pauses part way submerged, and you reach out with the ring clad finger to touch the water. Kaldur is silent beside you as you ground yourself. You feel the current, the pull of the ocean, and firmly you say, “anapnéo,” the ring made from atlantean metal glows, and then with a tap to the Super-cycle it submerges completely.
The first breath is always a bit nerve wracking, it feels like you’re entirely out of practice, and therefore not prepared to breathe. But you do. You cautiously, slowly breathe in, and when it feels as normal as it does on land your body relaxes.
“pos niótheis poulí?" (how do you feel, Birdy?) Kaldur’s question jars your wandering thoughts back into the present.
“étoimo na cheiristeí ó,ti prépei na cheiristeí ,” (ready to handle what needs to be handled) you assure him and he nods.
Minutes pass and then you are confronted with the city of Atlantis, beautiful in all its glowing magic and technology. You smile at the city fondly and catch the wanting in Kaldur’s eye, this was him home, and for a year it had been your own. The two of you had developed your friendship in this city, it will always, without a doubt, be a very special place for you.
As the cycle passes through the gates and toward the conservatory, you push the melancholic nostalgia away, and do your best to focus in on the mission at hand, there was too much as stake to be distracted by memories of the past. As Kaldur disembarks, you follow, and the two of you make your way into the Conservatory of Magic.
MOUNT JUSTICE
December 31st, 15:42 EST
“So you need us to develop something that will work against, whatever magicked up alien technology that Mr. Big Bad, Vandal Savage is using against the Justice League?” Roquette’s tone was the same as it was when you first encountered her, and you share a look with Kaldur when you both notice it.
“The heroes have come to us for help, should we not so long as we are able?” Dr. Vulko, ever the voice of reason, and forever on the side of progress is the balm you didn’t realize you’d need.
“I agree, this is an opportunity to do good with the knowledge we have acquired over our years,” Dr. Spence’s agreement catches you off guard, but the pride and satisfaction rolling off of SB tells you this is exactly what he’d hoped for.
“It’s simple, Kaldur’ahm and Poulí told us what’s wrong, you’re either here to help, or they can show you the door,” Tulla’s blunt and to the point, and you have the choke down the snort as you stare appreciatively at the redhead, you notice that Kaldur’s doing the same, some things, you imagine, would never change.
You’d all regrouped at the Cave, scientists and specialists in hand. Tulla had been Queen Veera’s contribution and envoy as she could not leave Atlantis without a sane monarch, and especially not in a time where the King had been compromised. Each recruit had been given the details during their travel, but once they were all together, the gravity had seemingly begun to set in. Dr. Rouquette was as vibrant as she had been when you’d first met, despite that though, they had begun a prompt discussion on how the chip works, and a prefatory analysis on the confiscated chip.
“So do we think this is gonna work? Or should we be considering a back-up plan?” Rocket’s voice echoes though the open link and while the specialists continue their discussions, the team sends knowing looks to each other.
“this is the plan, the only plan,” you tell them seriously.
“Wait, seriously? You always have a back-up?” Artemis’ surprise is evident, and your lips twist down in response.
“Figures, considering her go-to has also been compromised,” Wally’s judgement is clear and your eye twitches in response.
“Sorry about that,” Zatanna’s voice is meek in response, and you catch the way Artemis, punches Wally in the arm, and his accompanying wince.
“So not your fault,” you finally cut in. “And I don’t hear you offering something else up, Wall-Man?” you state bitingly, shooting him a glare at which Wally winces again.
“To be fair, this was originally his idea,” Conner cuts in.
“Semantics,” Robin disagrees, “plus, Birdy’s the one with the connections to make it happen.”
“Gee, thanks, Rob. My genius and l feel so appreciated,” Wally scoffs, rolling his eyes.
“Right, so… back-up plan?” Rocket asks again.
“I don’t know! Short of contacting any non-affiliated heroes, or intergalactic organizations, I’m not sure what else we can do,” you sigh, a hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of your nose, while you work to secure your emotions and constrain your frustration.
“Intergalactic organizations?” Rocket repeats.
“OA,” the response is echoed by Wally, Rob, Roy, and Kaldur, you can’t help but notice this is the first time Roy was participating.
“OA,” you confirm, and then catching the confused look, on Rocket and Zatanna’s faces you add, “The Green Lantern Corps.”
“Oh,” Zatanna’s understanding is soft, as her eyes widen.
“We have a line to them?” Rocket asks, surprise evident.
“…We have potential avenues,” Robin supplies, defending your point while making eye contact with you.
“We do?” Artemis’ question is fair, and you hesitate, but your eyes lock with Roy, and then with Dick.
“Earth has another Green Lantern,” You remind the team.
“Is he not a part of the league?” Zatanna squints.
“…There were some concerns about his attitude and maturity,” Dick supplies cautiously.
“But they let Roy in?” the dig slips from Artemis’ thoughts, and by the look on her face you know she didn’t mean to project that particular thought.
You can’t help the very audible snort, and a hand comes up over your face in embarrassment as everyone turns to you.
You catch the small smirk on Dick’s face, and Wally’s chuckling a little bit too. And when Roy turns to you, betrayed, you can’t help but start to giggle, and when your avert your gaze, they land on Wally. Which really was the worst move because then you’re both laughing.
“Okay!” Roy huffs. “Laugh it up, Birdy,” he scoffs.
“Sor-” you try but burst into another fit, until you’re practically leaning on Kaldur to stay upright.
When you finally get control, you catch the small smile on Kaldur’s face, and even Roy’s scowl has faded a bit.
“Sorry,” you say seriously, bitting your lip and straightening up.
“Should we be worried?” Rocket asks, wide eyes on you.
“No, sorry, I just… whew, I needed a laugh, thanks Artemis,” you smile.
Artemis blushes a bit in response, “What were you going to say about the other Lantern?” she prompts, pushing the conversation back on track.
“Right, Guy Gardner,” you share. “Kind of a bully based on Canary’s files, it’s the reason he hasn’t been inducted. But he is a Lantern, and the ring did choose him. He’s based out of Baltimore, Maryland. If we fail here, we just need to get word to him, hopefully he’ll take it seriously,” you shrug.
“Reassuring,” Rocket laments flatly, and all you can do is shrug again.
“Kaldur’ahm, Poulí, I think we may have come to an understanding,” Vulko’s voice booms across the room, and your head snaps to him immediately.
“What do you need?” you ask, setting your shoulders, as the rest of the team turns to face the brain trust.
THE WATCHTOWER December 31st, 23:16 EST
Infiltrating the Watchtower was not something you’d ever thought you’d have to do. However, somehow, you really can’t find it in you to be totally surprised.
Dinah, now freed from Starro-Tech’s control, along with Roy and Red Tornado had gone in as a distraction, allowing the team to handle the rest. Part of you had been hesitant to let Roy out of your sight after finally finding him. Not to mention Dinah. You’d twitched a little too violently, when she volunteered to go back, and Roy and Dick had both given you cautious looks as a response.
The waiting was the worst though.
You watched as M’gann, Kaldur, and Connor broke through the wall where the Bioship had docked. Robin kept an eye on the alarms and scanners the entire time, covering the Team’s tracks as he went.
Eventually, it was time.
“RT did it. Wirelessly bypassed security for us as soon as he arrived. Savage shouldn't know we're here,” Robin confirmed, once we’d all regrouped inside the watchtower.
Aqualad nodded, before casting a quick glance at the rest of the team, “move out.”
“Currently tracking five League members between us and Savage,” Robin shares as you and Kaldur begin leading everyone though.
“Which ones?” Artemis’ tone is dubious, even through the link, and you can’t really say you blame her.
“Plastic Man, Hawkman, the Atom, Captain Atom, and… well,” Robin pauses on the last one and you turn back to look at him. “Green Arrow.”
The team pauses, as they wait for the next move. There were nine of you, which meant almost everyone could double up, almost.
A quick glance at Kaldur tells you he was thinking the same thing.
“Here’s the plan…” you speak first, “We work quietly and quickly. Take every opportunity to knock as many of the Leaguers out as we can before Savage and his cohort baddies realize what’s happening. Artemis and KF, you two take Plastic Man. SB and Rob, Hawkman. Zatanna and Miss M, the Atom. Aqualad and Rocket, Captain Atom. Leave GA to me,” the team nods, but once again you notice their hesitation.
“What?” you press.
“Are you sure you want to handle GA? One of us can do it,” Wally offers tentatively.
“No. He’s mine. But Rob, I could use a favor…”
Armed with one of Robin’s recording birdarangs you split off from the group. You’re following your map to where GA’s icon is moving, and periodically you get updates from the rest of the team.
First it’s KF and Artemis.
“Plastic Man in gassed, and chipped,” you can practically hear Wally’s smirk as he reports in.
You turn another corner.
“Hawkman’s chipped too,” Robin reports.
“Probably going to be out for a bit. I might’ve hit him a little too hard,” Superboy admits.
You pause when you hear Oliver’s footsteps. Spotting the crates, you launch yourself up. Walking on the balls of your feet, you climb up, silently.
“We got the Atom,” Zatanna confirms.
You catch sight of a support beam, a few feet above you, and launch yourself up with as much strength as you can muster. You manage to grab hold, and then you pull your body up, until you’re balanced on your feet, walking the beam.
“Captain Atom is incapacitated, but chipped,” Kaldur’s the next one to confirm, which just left you.
You pull the chip from your belt, as well as the birdarang. Following Oliver’s path ahead, you toss the birdarang, it lands solidly in the wall.
A beat passes.
And then a second.
And then-
“Ha, Ha, Ollie, over here!”
Your giggle echoes down the hall, and Oliver’s quick to turn to the sound.
“NG, status?” Robin’s voice rings through the link but you ignore it.
You take your grapple line and wrap it around the support, making sure it’s snug in place, before attaching the line to your belt.
“Birdy, you copy?” Wally this time.
Oliver’s almost in position, and so you count.
one.
two.
three.
You hold your breath as you lean back.
For a second you’re falling, and it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Luckily, the speaker starts again.
“Ha, ha. Ollie, over here!”
The recording covers the sound of the grapple going taught.
“Nightingale, report in!” Kaldur, and he’s serious.
You get about two seconds before Oliver realizes the birdarang’s what’s making the sound, and you’re suspended in the air, halfway between the ground and the support beams of the Watchtower.
The chip, which you’d been flipping around your finger’s is poised between your index and middle fingers, and right as Ollie turns, baring the side of his neck, you toss it. You throw it the way Dinah taught you to throw a shuriken.
The balance had practically been the same.
It hits Ollie and there’s a second when he turns to you, arrow drawn.
And then he collapses.
You tug on the grapple cord and it slackens. You land on your feet, twisting the cord back into your grapple as you walk up to the downed Green Arrow.
“GA’s chipped,” you finally say, tuning back into the link.
“We’re not splitting up anymore,” Wally says quickly.
You roll your eyes.
“Don’t be ridiculous, KF-”
“You didn’t answer us!” Artemis cuts in.
This time you scoff.
“They have to realize by now,” Robin speaks up.
“He’s right, we need to move. Zatanna and Miss Martian, you two head for the dock Zeta, Rocket and I will join you,” Kaldur decides. “The rest of you head up.”
“On the way,” Zatanna confirms.
You’d started making your way back up, sticking to the support beams as much as possible, so far, you’d avoided any further League interactions.
“That’s Dr. Fate, Icon, and Captain Marvel taken care of,” Zatanna speaks up, and you pause for a second.
“Too bad Cure-tech doesn't work as fast as Starro-tech. We could use these guys,” Rocket huffs, and your lips quirk up, she’s not wrong.
“It is a small miracle Queen Meera and Doctors Roquette, Spence, and Vulko were able to re-engineer a cure and vaccine at all,” Kaldur reminds her.
“And their combined 8 PhDs,” you muse.
Before anyone can respond to your joke, KF interjects, “If you guys aren't busy...”
Your breath catches, but Kaldur’s already on the move, “On my way. You three rendezvous with Robin and Superboy.”
You pick up your pace as well, and are only partially paying attention when Zatanna gives her confirmation.
“Uh, I'll be right behind you,” she offers.
You manage to arrive at the main deck in time to Batman hit Robin.
“I am so not turbed,” is how you announce yourself, as your jump down from the level you’re on, using your grapple to loop down to the one where Robin is.
“Yeah, me neither,” he promises.
You’re on your feet in time to fall in step with both Superboy and Robin, both seem to be smarting a bit after taking on Batman and Superman, understandably.
“We're not gonna beat them one-on-one,” Robin finally announces.
“Plan B, then,” Superboy confirms.
“And I thought my contingencies were drastic,” you manage to joke out before taking Connor’s hand.
Conner grabs a hold of you with one hand, and Robin with the other. Using his strength he spins you both, before launching you one after the other at Batman.
You land first, grabbing a handful of his cape to pull him with your momentum.
Robin’s body crashes into you both a second later, and then the three of you go into the wall. You can feel your bones rattle from the impact, but when you slide down, you manage to grab a hold of a chip as Robin hold’s Batman steady.
You place the chip, before changing your stance to drop into a roll. You pop up on one leg, escrima sticks in hand, and Robin lands crouched beside you.
You barely have a second to catch your breath before you hear Superman and Superboy go into a wall of their own.
You both take off and you hesitate when Robin reaches to his belt.
“You sure about this?” you ask as you both run up to them.
Superboy manages to grunt out a, “Just do it!” as he strains to hold Superman in place.
You grab hold of another chip while Robin opens a box.
The green light reflects off their faces, and you watch as it seems to drain them both. Conner and Superman both start sliding down, neither of them fighting anymore as they go.
As soon as Superman falls, you’re quick to place the chip, and once you do, Robin’s shutting the lead lined box tight.
You sit back on your ass and let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, turning back to check on Conner, who was pulling himself up to sit against the wall beside you.
He lets out a groan, looking at you and then at Robin, “Ugh. Kryptonite… hurts,” he admits, and you can’t help the scoff that slips past your lips.
It brings a smile to Robin’s face though.
“Which is why,” he begins, offering a hand to Conner. “Batman keeps it in an overwhelmingly impenetrable vault at the Batcave,” he explains, pulling SB back to his feet.
“Overwhelmingly impenetrable, huh?” you smirk up at the two.
Both boys smile down, offering you a hand.
“Well, more like a whelmingly penetrable vault,” Robin corrects.
You snort, taking their hands, and they’re quick to put you back on your feet as well.
“Let’s go. Vandal Savage awaits,” you remind them, and the two nod at you, before the three of you take off toward’s the main viewing deck, where the main Zeta point was for the Watchtower.
Unfortunately you get there just in time to watch Vandal Savage, Klarion, and his familiar, Teekle, disappear through a portal. Wally skidding into where they had been not even a second before.
You redirect yourself over to where Dinah and Roy are unconscious on the floor.
Wally whizzes up to you and grabs your spare de-programing chips, placing them on the leaguers who were up here, before sliding back up to the rest of you.
“Congratulations, Team. You have won the day,” Red Tornado announces, and you let out a tired chuckle at the thought.
None of you have an opportunity to respond though, because in the next second, a holoscreen appears.
“Happy New Year, Justice League,” the computer announces.
You don’t catch what Wally said, but when you turn to him, he’s holding Artemis, and they’re kissing.
Your lip twitches up, and then Connor and M’gann too.
“I’m liking this Team more every day,” Rocket decides, smirking as she kisses Kaldur’s cheek.
You roll your eyes and gag at Robin and Zatanna, both of whom smother their laughs. Zatanna looks away as she tries to keep her composure, but Robin stares back at you.
“Milkshakes?” you mouth to him while no one’s watching.
“Definitely,” he mouths back.
“Human customs still elude me,” Red Tornado announces in response to the kissing, and you can’t hold back your snort.
THE WATCHTOWER January 1st, 00:42 EST
It took some time, but eventually the Leaguer’s began to wake up, and slolwy they all arrived back in the entry deck.
“Everything I thought I knew about myself was a lie. I'm not a hero or a sidekick. I'm a traitor, a pawn,” Roy’s tone was low, dejected, in a way you’re not sure you’d ever heard it.
Dinah reaches out, placing a hand on his arm, “Roy, it'll be all-”
You wince when you watch Roy pull back from her. Bitting too far into your lip and tasting blood.
“I'm not Roy! I don't know what I am. All I know is I need to find the real Roy. I need to rescue Speedy,” he counters.
You’d been too anxious to sit when everyone else had. electing instead to stand across the table from Roy while Ollie and Dinah took the seats on either side of him.
“We’ll help you. The team I mean. And if not, then I will. We’ll find him,” you cut in, licking over your split lip.
“Guardian is already searching Cadmus,” Batman add, reassuringly.
Ollie had been unusually quiet.
“We should take Ro- Red Arrow, home, at least, for now,” Dinah decides.
You caught her slip up, everyone at the table probably did, but no one commented.
“Of course, all four of you can go,” Batman nods.
You catch the tonal shift, and you hesitate.
You’re not sure you would’ve noticed it if not for the rest of your abilities, but you know there’s something else.
“I’d like to stay,” you announce and everyone turns to you. “Just for a bit,” you backtrack, “I want to make sure the Team’s set, and I need to speak with Aquaman about how we deconstructed the chips,” you expound.
Roy looks like he wants to bolt, not that you balme him.
Ollie’s holding himself stiffly.
Dinah looks a little queasy at leaving you here on your own.
“I’ll be fine,” you reassure them.
“I’ll escort her, to Arthur, and then back to the Zeta’s,” Batman offers, and you notice as Dinah realxes, but only a little.
“Not too long,” she adds, though it’s perfunctory, you can tell.
“Promise,” you nod.
She smiles once more at you, weak and strained, before she and Ollie take Roy toward the Zeta’s
You wait until they’re through before you turn back to Batman. Robin and Kaldur had taken the seat on either side of him, and the four of you were the only ones left in the room.
Your hands land on the table with a loud smack that echoes thorough the room, and all three sets of eyes shift to you.
Yours, however, are focused on Batman, “Something else is wrong,” you say.
You’re not asking, you’re not, because you know.
Batman hesitates, looking to Robin for a second before turning back to you, and then nodding.
“The entire League was under Savage's spell for just over a day,” Robin begins, sharing a holoscreen with you. “We've accounted for most of that time. But these six went missing for a full 16 hours we can't account for.”
You stare at the screen. Batman, Superman, Green Lantern; John Stewart, Hawkwoman, Wonder Woman, and Martian Manhinter.
Powerhouses, all six. Each in their own right, different skills, different tactics. It’s terrifying to think what they could have accomplished for Klarion and Vandal Savage in sixteen hours, the implications were limitless.
“Sixteen hours,” Batman repeats, “what did we do?”
STAR CITY January 1st, 02:04 EST
It’s another hour or so by the time you make it back to Star City. You’d talked with King Arthur, shared with him how you and Kaldur had gone to Atlantis, and that Queen Meera had been appraised. And then you’d circled back to the cave to shower and change.
It’s two in the morning when you make it home, and frankly, you’re surprised to see Roy still up.
Dinah and Ollie weren’t around so you assumed they’d gone to bed. They probably thought he had too.
“Hey,” you greet lamely.
“Hi,” is all he offers back.
You drop your gym bag down by the door, and replace the lock before walking over to the sofa. You drop down beside Roy, but you leave a healthy space, not wanting to crowd him. You turn, tucking one leg under you, so that you can face him better.
“I know it’s a stupid question, but I’m going to ask anyways,” you begin, but he doesn’t look at you, focused instead on something just past your head. “How are you?”
He lets out a snort, but it’s dry, and sad, and you can hear it for what the answer it offers. Stupid question.
“I don’t know…” he says after a minute of silence. “But… I don’t really know anything anymore,” he adds on.
You bite on your lip again, wincing when your teeth make contact with the split lip you’d forgotten about.
“Fair,” you offer, agreeing.
“It’s fine,” he huffs, shrugging you off.
Your eyes narrow at that, it was a lot of things, fine isn’t one of them.
“Roy-”
“Don’t call me that!” he hisses, and you pause.
“Okay,” you concede, swallowing thickly. “What should I call you?” you prompt instead.
“I- I.. I don’t know, just.. I’m not Roy Harper, I’m not!” the last words come out as a sob, and you flick the piece of you that wants to give him space the recesses of your mind, scooting closer and wrapping an arm around his middle the best you can.
“How about Red, at least until we figure it all out?” you offer instead.
“Stop,” he cries. “Stop being nice, and understanding, I replaced him!” Roy’s voice is low, and sad, and you know he wants to make his point, but seems not to want to wake up Dinah or Ollie.
“She’s asleep so I’m going to say the bad words she tries to keep me from using,” you begin, delighted when it gets a wet snort out of the redhead. “But fuck that,” you say seriously, and he snorts again.
Finally turning to look at you, though he’s stuck with it, seeing as you’re practically pressing into his side.
“Look, I’m not blaming Ollie but I’m sure as shit not blaming you either. And I think it’s okay to acknowledge the fact that what you went through in the last few days has been harsh. That it was thirty-one flavors of traumatizing. God, Red! I’d be a fucking mess if it were Dinah coming after me, but it’s not your fucking fault or theirs!” you huff out.
“You owe Dinah at least $20, for just the last minute alone,” is all he says in response.
You scoff.
“Look, Roy or not, you’re my brother too. You have been for the last three years, and just because you’re a clone, it doesn’t make it less true,” you say seriously, and he goes quiet.
You let out a long sigh.
“You should get some sleep, tomorrow’s gonna be a long day,” you finally offer after the silence stretches.
“Yeah,” he huffs, standing up.
You stand after him, tugging him into a tight hug, that he doesn’t seem sure of how to respond to.
“Goodnight, Red,” you say gently.
“Goodnight, (y/n),” he whispers, before peeling you off of him, and walking away.
STAR CITY January 1st, 10:22 EST
You slept horribly.
The worst ever, actually.
Okay probably not, but it was still pretty bad.
The light at the end of the tunnel where the two hours of no questions you’d managed to wrangle out of Dinah.
You were already in a booth when he walked in.
Sat with your eyes closed, leaning against the linoleum seats, and when the overhead bell of the entry door rings, you blink them open in time to see Dick find you.
You offer him a muted lazy smile, and he gives you one in return.
“Hey,” he greets.
“Hey,” you say, sliding down.
He takes the invitation, settling down beside you instead of across from you.
The two of you fall into a comfortable silence. It seems you both were talked out after the events of the previous day.
Eventually, Mrs. Lenetii brings out a milkshake for you both, cooing over you, before siappearing to take care of another table.
Your head lands on his and his fingers interlace with yours.
“Bad night?” he asks after you’d both been ignoring your milkshakes for too long.
“yeah,” you nod.
“Yeah,” he repeats.
Slowly you lift your head.
You’re close, the two of you. His face is right there, his lips.
He’s staring at you with the wide blue eyes, and you wonder if he’s suddenly as nervous as you were.
You thought of Wally and Artemis at Midnight, of M’gann and Conner, even Rocket. But they were all older. You and Dick were the youngest on the team. It had never felt like it more until right now.
“Um-” he stutters out. “I… uh.. Can I?” he trails off.
“Have you.. ever?” you question back.
Neither of you have moved apart though.
“No,” he admits. “You?”
“No,” you share.
He offers you a shy smile, and it’s the first one in almost forty hours that doesn’t feel strained.
When he tilts down, you move up. There’s no fireworks. And your noes’ bump, and you giggle. And then your teeth clack, and he laughs. It’s awkward and kind of strange, and not at all what the movies make it sound like it’ll be, but it was your first kiss, and it was his too, and it tastes a little like the chocolate and strawberry milkshakes you’d both been sipping on, and all of it together makes it kind of magical in an of itself.
No matter what happened next, what came next, you had Dick, and you knew he had your back.
everything tags: @butterfly-skinnylegend
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cnng taglist: @babymango-writes @smile-more19 @bruiscdlikeviolets @truly-dionysus @farfromjustordinary @sometimeseverythingsucks @dweeb-central @lucy-roo @casedoina @cipheress-to-k-pop @anonomano @seninjakitey @whelmedparker @officiallydarkgeek @midnxghtblue @unini @blackwhiteandshadesofgradient @dontmesswithbeebo @raggedyoldwitch @bouqet-of-gay @duckmylife18 @kendallambrosio @notslaybabes @torchbearerkyle @cynthiarose07 @mono--moonchild @emo-space-tea @notsostraightweeb @sassyspanishartist @ahyeonah @acceber1313 @onepieceformeplease @whatislifeandhowdoidoit @luvelyxp @lovelyartemisa @evermoore580 @mischiefmanaged71 @cryingnotcrying @aces-tattooartist @we-flower-fan @awkward-youtube-trash @laurcad123 @sanovr @feverish-dove @lolsnacks
was about to read this until i saw x male reader 💔
⚣ One Kent Was Enough 👦🏻
⚣👦🏻 A/N → You spoiled little brats got a damn near 40k word fic out of me! No complaints, EVER again. Also, if anyone remembers, I posted about doing something like this before when I got inspired by this post from @cipheress-to-k-pop. Hope you enjoy and thank you for your patience and support! WARNINGS: Canon-Typical Violence | Canon Divergence | Domestic Fluff | Angst & Fluff | Minor Conner/M'Gann mentions | Slight Enemies To Lovers trope | Implied Mpreg |
⚣👦🏻 Summary → Conner and Y/N had a very tense relationship; tense meaning there was rarely a moment the two could be in the same room without arguing. Their friends didn't see a future where they would ever be close, let alone cordial. But, a timely visit from some special individuals could end up changing things for the better? Or worse, depending on the perspective. Could the world actually be ending?
⚣👦🏻 Words → 39.4K
REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 👦🏻
In the dimly lit garage hangar of Mount Justice, Batman, and Red Tornado stood solemnly by the ramp, awaiting the return of their young proteges from a mission that was purportedly successful, though marred by "minor complications," as Aqualad had cryptically reported. The exact nature of these complications remained unclear until the bio-ship's hatch door swung open, releasing a cacophony of shouts and arguments into the cool air of the hangar.
The first to disembark were Y/N and Conner, their heated argument escalating with each step they took from the ship. Their faces, illuminated by the harsh overhead lights, were twisted in frustration and anger—emotions that had clearly brewed long before the bio-ship touched down.
"You always undermine me, every single mission!" Y/N's voice echoed off the metal walls, his anger palpable. "With your encyclopedic brain, how can you not grasp the simple phrase 'I don’t need help'? Is English somehow the exception in your multilingual repertoire? Shall I translate it into Spanish? Russian? Swahili perhaps?"
Conner responded with equal venom, his voice low and menacing. "If you weren’t such a constant liability, maybe I wouldn’t need to intervene. And a 'thank you' might be nice, considering this is the fourth time this month I’ve had to bail you out."
As they continued their verbal duel, Batman and Red Tornado exchanged a glance, their expressions a mix of resignation and concern. The other team members exited the ship, their faces tense and weary, evidently disturbed by the ongoing conflict between their comrades.
"Report," Batman interjected, his voice cutting through the bickering with authoritative clarity.
"We neutralized Bane’s operation and apprehended him," Aqualad reported, maintaining a composed demeanor despite the slight twitch of irritation in his brow. "The mission was successful."
"Yeah, barely," Wally added, arms crossed, his tone dry. "He almost got away, thanks to Yin and Yang over there."
Aqualad shot Wally a sharp look, signaling him to tread carefully, but the damage was done. Batman’s gaze hardened, his attention now fully on the quarreling pair behind him.
"And what do you do besides scream like a monkey and throw tantrums?" Y/N shot back at Conner, his voice rising with each word. "If it weren’t for your so-called Kryptonian powers, you’d be less useful than my dog in a fight!"
"Don't compare me to a monkey," Conner growled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "And last time I checked, these 'weak' Kryptonian powers kept your behind safe more than once. Like that time you hid behind me when those League of Shadow goons cornered you?" Conner retorted, his fists clenched at his sides, the veins in his arms bulging with restrained fury.
"You baffling monkey head, I was casting a spell, not hiding!" Y/N snapped, his aura crackling with magical energy, a clear sign of his escalating temper.
"A spell to boost your courage, perhaps? And stop calling me names," Conner growled, stepping closer until they were nose to nose.
"What are you going to do? Thrown another tantrum if I hurt your wee little pride?" Y/N taunted, floating a few inches off the ground to meet Conner’s height, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Enough!" Batman’s command reverberated through the hangar, silencing everyone. He swiftly positioned himself between Y/N and Conner, his presence alone demanding peace. Aqualad and Kid Flash pulled Conner back while Zatanna and Robin gently guided Y/N to the ground, their actions preventative.
"This is the third time your arguments have nearly jeopardized a mission," Batman stated coldly. "Resolve this conflict, or you’re both sidelined until you can act like professionals."
With a final, piercing glance at the two, Batman turned and strode towards the mission control room, Red Tornado following in his silent, measured steps. The rest of the team dispersed quickly, their looks of sympathy and frustration cast toward Y/N and Conner as they left.
Fuming, Y/N rounded on Conner. "This is all your fault!"
"How is this my fault? You’re the one who can't keep his mouth shut," Conner shouted back.
"You're the one who can't take a hint and leave me alone," Y/N countered, his aura flaring.
"Well, maybe if you weren't such a pain in the ass, I wouldn't have to intervene," Conner said, his voice low and dangerous.
"Oh, is that what you call it? Intervening? Because I'd call it something you tried to describe me as earlier with your self-projecting ass. And if you don't learn how to stay out of my way, I'll show you just how much of a pain I can be," Y/N threatened, his eyes glowing with unspent magic.
"Is that a threat?" Conner asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
"Oh, please, I wouldn't waste a threat on you. Your primate brain might not be able to understand it. But, it's definitely a promise," Y/N replied, his voice equally low as he turned away, his footsteps echoing in the empty hangar.
"Whatever," Conner muttered, turning and stalking off in the opposite direction.
As Y/N headed towards the showers, his mutterings continued, a stream of insults and grievances pouring out, unheard by all but Conner, who paused to listen with a heavy sigh before shaking his head and walking away.
The tension between Y/N and Conner had been growing for months, and their teammates were becoming increasingly concerned. The two had never seen eye to eye, but their animosity had recently reached new levels and now the rest of the team was beginning to suffer from it as well.
A couple of hours later, Zatanna and Y/N were deep in their studies in one of the library rooms at the base, surrounded by ancient texts and spellbooks. Y/N was particularly agitated, aggressively flipping through pages and muttering curses under his breath about Conner. This was typical following their arguments; Conner would withdraw and brood, while Y/N became irritable and quick to anger.
Their dynamic puzzled their friends and mentors. Despite claiming indifference toward each other, Y/N and Conner managed to elicit intense reactions from one another, more so than anyone else on the team. Initially, Y/N had been keen to form a bond with Conner, driven by an attraction he barely acknowledged. However, Conner’s apparent disinterest only fueled a series of confrontations, worsening their interactions over time.
As Y/N's frustration grew, Zatanna decided a break was needed. “Hey, I’m going to grab a snack. You want anything?” she asked, hoping to ease the tension.
“Conner’s head on a stake would be nice. If not, then apple juice, please,” Y/N half-joked, half-serious, not looking up from his spellbook.
Zatanna rolled her eyes at his melodramatic response and headed toward the lounge, where the mood was lighter. M’Gann was baking cookies, filling the room with a warm, inviting aroma. Dick and Wally were engaged in a video game, with Artemis spectating, while Kaldur was absorbed in a book.
Upon noticing Zatanna, M’Gann offered a spoonful of cookie dough. “Hey Zatanna, want to try my new recipe? I’m hoping it’ll cheer Conner up.”
“Sure, who would ever say no to free cookie dough?” Zatanna smiled, taking the spoon.
Artemis, overhearing the conversation, commented wryly, “M’Gann, you’re too good for him. I’d only bring back lawsuits for my exes.”
“We’re not exes!” M’Gann protested, a blush coloring her cheeks.
“So, you guys are still together?” Artemis raised an eyebrow, her tone teasing.
“No! Well—technically yes, but it’s complicated. We haven’t talked about it, but we haven’t broken up either. It’s just... things are different now. I’m not sure what we are. I mean, we’re not dating, but we’re not not dating. Does that make sense?"
"Not really, but whatever makes you happy," Artemis shrugged.
Zatanna offered her a sympathetic hand while washing the spoon in the sink. “Just give him some time. Where is Conner, anyway?”
“Either in the garage hangar or the training room, letting off some steam after his fight with Y/N,” Dick answered, his attention briefly diverted from the game.
M’Gann’s expression soured at the mention of Y/N, prompting Zatanna to add, “That’s why I’m out here. Needed a break from all the mumbled threats and angry huffs.”
“What were they arguing about this time?” Artemis inquired, genuinely curious.
“Who knows? Those two bicker so much, I doubt even they remember what starts it half the time,” Wally chimed in, his fingers busily working the game controller.
“But seriously, is it just me or is the tension between Y/N and Superboy getting worse?” Wally interjected, pausing the game.
“It’s not just you,” Dick replied, setting his controller aside. “They’ve been at each other’s throats lately.”
Wouldn't it be funny if everyone were currently thinking of a memory where Y/N was literally at Conner's throat, trying to choke him out? Not that that actually happened or anything.
...
Okay, it definitely did, but Batman definitely did not have to get Zatanna and Zatara to magically restrain Y/N from trying to suffocate the half-Kryptonian with his powers.
...
Okay, he definitely did.
“I thought they were past this,” Zatanna sighed. “I mean, it’s been a year since their first big fight, and things seemed to have calmed down. But now, it’s like they’re back to square one.”
“I just want to know why Conner always seems to pick fights with Y/N for no apparent reason,” Artemis pondered aloud.
Zatanna noticed M’Gann mixing her cookie dough with more force than necessary and decided to distance herself from the counter, eyeing the bits of dough that were escaping out of the bowl.
“True, but Y/N can be just as provocative. He gives as good as he gets, which only escalates their conflicts,” Kaldur observed, not looking up from his book.
“It’s like a vicious cycle with them. Last week, Y/N cast a spell on Conner during an argument at school just to shut him up—literally removed his ability to speak temporarily,” Zatanna recounted, shaking her head.
“Yikes,” Wally winced.
“Yeah. Thankfully, no one was around to see it or the damage caused to the hallway in the aftermath. They should feel lucky I was there to clean up their mess,” Zatanna frowned, recalling the incident.
“Why are they so hostile towards each other? They’re supposed to be teammates, not enemies,” Dick wondered.
“Maybe they’re secretly into each other and are too stubborn to admit it,” Wally joked, earning a pillow thrown at his head by Artemis.
“Wally, that’s not funny,” M’Gann chided, her expression darkening.
“Sorry, sorry. I was just kidding,” Wally apologized, raising his hands in surrender.
“Why hasn’t Batman done anything about their constant fighting? Surely, he’s noticed how disruptive it is,” Artemis asked, her tone exasperated.
“He has, and he’s given them multiple warnings, but they haven’t listened,” Kaldur responded.
“Well, hopefully, they’ll sort out their issues eventually. For the sake of the team, and their own sanity,” Dick sighed.
“Yeah, those two getting along? Might as well be a sign of the apocalypse,” Wally joked.
No sooner had he spoken than the room was suddenly engulfed in a brilliant, searing light that pulsed like a living thing. It expanded rapidly, washing over everything in sight with an overwhelming glow, casting sharp shadows and making it impossible to see more than a few inches ahead. Zatanna stumbled backward, instinctively reaching out for the edge of the counter, her knuckles whitening as she gripped it tightly while M'Gann covered her face with her arm and did her best to hold onto the counter.
It was an intense magical energy that felt thick, almost tangible, vibrating in the air as it intensified. Zatanna could feel it coursing through her, every hair on her body standing on end as the power surged from the epicenter while the others struggled to remain upright.
The force of the magic tugged at everyone, like an invisible hand trying to pull them closer to the blinding core of the disturbance. Papers flew off the table, books flipped open and fluttered their pages wildly, and the very air felt charged with potential—like the moment before a storm unleashes its fury. M’Gann’s telekinesis instinctively flared, her eyes glowing as she erected a weak barrier to keep the scattered kitchenware from hitting anyone. Dick dropped his controller and braced against the couch, feeling the gust of wind push against his frame, while Wally, ever the speedster, darted to the side and ducked behind Artemis, trying to shield her with his body.
“What the heck is that?!” Dick yelled out, though his voice was drowned out by the roaring sound that accompanied the light.
“I have no idea, but I’m not sticking around to find out,” Wally shouted back, grabbing Artemis and speeding her around to behind the counter where M'Gann was.
Zatanna, eyes squinting through the blinding light, reached out with her magic, trying to push against the force, but even her well-honed abilities struggled to contain it. It felt wild and potent—untamed, but also somehow new and pure, like a water source that never experienced the effects of pollution. “What is this?” she muttered through gritted teeth, her voice barely audible over the cacophony of sound and energy.
“Everyone, get down!” Kaldur ordered, shielding his eyes.
As the light grew in intensity, it became almost painful to bear. Everyone was holding on to something—whether a counter, a chair, or each other—bracing themselves against the sheer force of the phenomenon. It was as if the very fabric of reality was being stretched thin, ready to snap at any second. And then, just as quickly as it had started, the light dimmed, the energy receding, leaving the room eerily quiet. The gusts of wind ceased, and the magic that had filled the space dissipated into the air, leaving only the scattered remnants of their surroundings in disarray. Everyone stood frozen in place, breathless, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
The team slowly emerged from their various hiding spots, still shaken by the unexpected display of magic. Dick was the first to stand, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to clear the spots from his vision. “Can someone explain why we just got hit by a magical freight train?” he groaned, squinting at the mess left in the room.
“Is everyone okay?” Kaldur asked, breaking the silence.
“I think so,” M’Gann replied, her voice shaky.
“What the hell was that?!” Artemis demanded, her heart racing.
Meanwhile, Zatanna stood frozen, her gaze fixed on something no one else seemed to notice. In the midst of the scattered books and overturned chairs, three new figures now stood in the room, looking completely out of place and, oddly enough, not at all concerned by the chaos around them.
“Uh, guys…?” Zatanna started, trying to catch someone’s attention.
Kaldur frowned, inspecting the room as though he could assess what had just happened with logic alone. “That was magic. Though, I've never felt anything like it. That energy felt…different. More raw than what we’re used to,” he noted, his brows furrowed. “It wasn’t one of Zatanna’s spells, was it?”
“No, it definitely wasn’t me,” Zatanna responded absentmindedly, her eyes still trained on the three figures. “But seriously, guys…”
M’Gann, still rattled, glanced around the room at the damage. “Do you think it was a new villain attack? It didn’t feel like a typical threat, but—”
“I don't think it was an attack,” Kaldur interjected, his eyes narrowing as he tried to piece it all together. “At least, not in the conventional sense. The magic was too unfocused.”
“But, how could someone attack us here? It seems unlikely any villain would consider attacking here, knowing we know that they know about the Cave,” M'Gann added, clumsily repeating Wally's words from their first week in the Cave.
“No, but it isn’t the first time we were attacked here,” Artemis reminded her.
“Guys!” Zatanna said again, this time louder, but still no one paid attention.
Dick continued to rub his temples, his patience wearing thin. “Whatever it was, we need to figure it out fast. We can’t just wait for Batman to—”
“GUYS!” Zatanna practically shouted now, waving her hands wildly in the air.
“What?!” Wally finally turned, looking exasperated.
Zatanna pointed dramatically toward the three new presences in the room, who were standing in varying degrees of awkwardness and curiosity. One of them was casually flipping through a spellbook that had landed on the floor, seemingly unbothered by the team’s presence.
“Uh, guys… You see three random kids in the corner too, right?” Wally asked, bewildered.
Artemis, peering towards the corner, responded dryly, “Of course, genius. Why else would we all be looking that way?”
The one with the spellbook, seemingly the oldest, stood confidently in the center, observing with an amused smile as Wally and Artemis bickered. The second boy, positioned slightly behind, crossed his arms and frowned—a familiar gesture that sparked a sense of déjà vu among the onlookers. The youngest clung to the eldest’s hand, peering from behind with wide, apprehensive eyes at the array of new faces, a strong resemblance to someone they all knew catching Zatanna's attention.
“Uh...when did they get here?” Dick asked, blinking rapidly.
The one holding the spellbook glanced at the Boy Wonder, his bright, yet calculating smile like he knew you and everything about you with just one look. “Oh, we’ve been here for a while. Hope we didn’t interrupt anything.”
The rest of the team’s jaws dropped simultaneously.
Before anyone could react to the newcomers, the sound of loud, heavy footsteps reverberated through the space, and Conner barreled into the room. His usual brooding expression was replaced by a combination of panic and anger, his hands clenched into fists. "What the heck is going on in here?!" he demanded, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger.
As the Kryptonian burst into the room, the youngest boy's face lit up with recognition. “DADA!” he exclaimed, releasing the eldest's hand and sprinting towards Conner with surprising speed.
Conner, caught off guard, froze, his eyes widening as the child collided with his legs and wrapped his arms around him.
"Dada, dada, dada!" the little boy repeated, his voice muffled against the older man's leg.
"What the...?" Conner mumbled, his brain struggling to process the situation.
"Um, Conner, care to explain?" Dick asked, his confusion evident.
"Explain what?" Conner shot back, his eyes darting between the team and the child clinging to him.
The team's faces registered a mix of shock and slight amusement as Superboy, taken aback, tried to gently remove the enthusiastic toddler clinging to his leg. The boy's laughter filled the room as he attempted to shake him off—unsuccessfully.
“I wouldn’t do that,” the eldest boy advised calmly. “That’s his favorite thing to do when you get home from work. The harder you try and shake him off, the longer he’s going to hold on.”
Conner stopped moving, and the child’s grip loosened slightly but remained firm. Frustrated yet curious, Conner looked around at the bewildered faces of his teammates. “Whose kid even is this?” he asked.
"Yours, apparently," Wally snickered.
"Not funny, Wally. Now, whose is it really?" Conner replied, his tone laced with irritation.
“Um... dude, judging from that kid’s reaction and the fact they seem to know you more than anyone, I’m gonna make an educated guess and say he’s yours too,” Dick replied, his voice filled with astonishment.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Conner snapped, his frustration growing.
"Language," the eldest boy warned, his eyes narrowing.
"Sorry," Conner grumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly, feeling scolded in a way only someone else ever made him feel. Who the hell were these kids?
Conner’s confusion deepened as he looked down at the smiling boy and then at the other children. Upon closer observation, their similar features became slowly unmistakable now, making it increasingly difficult to deny the reality: he was indeed their father.
Where was Maury when you needed him?
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Conner groaned as the boy began climbing him like a playground.
“Welp, might as well continue down this crazy train since we're at full speed. So if we've summarized that these three random kids that just appeared out of nowhere are our resident Kryptonian's offspring, then who's their mom?” Wally asked, his gaze sweeping toward the female members of the team.
Zatanna raised an eyebrow menacingly, challenging him to continue, while Dick glared disapprovingly at the implication. Artemis watched the exchange with an amused yet intrigued expression.
M’Gann stood up abruptly, her voice ringing with a mixture of excitement and certainty, “Hello, Megan! If they're Superboy’s kids, there’s only one logical explanation.”
“They’re all clones made in a lab too?” Wally suggested, which earned him a round of exasperated looks.
“No, Wally. I was going to say that if they’re Conner’s kids, then I must be their mom!” M’Gann exclaimed, flying over to the three boys. Conner, looking increasingly overwhelmed, watched silently as she approached the children with open arms.
“Hi, little guys. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m M’Gann, or Megan here on Earth, but you can call me Mom. What are your names?” she asked with a warm smile.
The boys exchanged looks, seeming to communicate silently before the eldest responded cautiously, “Uhm, hi. Don’t know how to say this without sounding mean, but—uhm...”
“You’re not our mom,” the boy behind him said bluntly.
Everyone cringed slightly as that statement hit M’Gann like a physical blow, her face a mixture of confusion and hurt. But before she could gather her thoughts to respond, the room’s attention was diverted by more footsteps, these lighter but just as quick.
“What in the world is going on out here? Do you wombats not understand I’m trying to meditate? And where is my apple juice?!” Y/N’s voice, gruff with irritation, cut through the tension.
The youngest boy, still clinging to Conner, pointed excitedly at Y/N. “Papa!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the suddenly silent room.
“Does anyone want to explain why this random child currently playing monkey bars on Conner just pointed at me and called me Papa?” Y/N asked, his surprise evident as he stared at the child reaching out to him.
The team exchanged stunned looks, each as speechless as the next while M’Gann displayed a blend of horror and anger, Conner’s embarrassment and irritation at the "monkey bars" comment clear.
The heavy silence was finally broken by Wally’s incredulous remark, “Oh my god, the world is gonna end.”
Everyone gathered in the living room, with Conner and Y/N positioned centrally, while their three unexpected young guests sat casually on the couch.
“Okay, let me go over this one more time, just to make sure I’m not missing anything,” Y/N began, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he eyed the two oldest children exchanging knowing looks before turning his attention back to the group. “You three are from the future and used a magic spell that you're claiming I taught you to come back in time because you wanted to meet your parents?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what we’re claiming,” the oldest affirmed.
“And you’re also saying that me and Conner are those parents?” Y/N gestured between himself and the Kryptonian, who was observing the children with a mixture of skepticism and intrigue.
“Yep,” the boy replied confidently.
“LIAR!” Y/N’s voice boomed suddenly, pointing an accusatory finger at the child. The sudden outburst caused a stir among his teammates.
“Y/N!”
“Dude!”
“What is wrong with you?”
The children merely covered the youngest brother’s ears, though the little one giggled, oblivious to the chaos. Even Conner shot Y/N a disapproving look, though that wasn’t unusual.
“What? He claims I taught him that spell—something I would never irresponsibly share with a child, especially one that could cause all of this! Plus, that spell isn’t even in my book,” Y/N defended himself, his exasperation causing sighs and head-shaking among the team.
“Really?! That’s the part you find hard to believe?” Wally interjected incredulously.
“What? You don’t think they’re from the future?” Y/N retorted.
“Uhm, how about the fact they’re claiming to be your kids?!” Dick countered, his disbelief evident.
“Oh, right. Yeah, that’s not hard to believe at all,” Y/N responded dryly, drawing stunned looks from everyone, particularly Conner and M’Gann.
“This must be some sort of test by Batman, trying to teach me and Conner a lesson. Seriously, me and him? Together? Don’t insult me,” Y/N scoffed, dismissing the idea as utterly preposterous.
Conner’s expression shifted from confusion to anger, a storm brewing behind his eyes. He wasn’t the only one offended by the remark.
“Hey! You shouldn’t talk about Dad like that!” the middle child yelled at Y/N, mirroring Conner’s growing irritation.
“And what are you going to do about it, little boy?” Y/N taunted, only to yelp in pain as a blast of heat vision singed his thigh. “Ow! Did this little gremlin just fry me with heat vision? How does he even have heat vision when you don’t?!”
The room fell into shocked silence as the oldest child stood, calmly walking over to Y/N and healing the burn with a wave of his hand, leaving no trace of the injury. His powers were undeniable, as was the ever-clear fact that these kids were exactly who they claimed to be.
“Dude, Dad told you not to use your heat vision on people,” the eldest scolded his younger brother.
“Yeah, well, Papa warned you about snooping through his spellbook, and look where we are now!” the middle child shot back, waving his arms animatedly at the chaotic situation around them.
“AH-HA! Told you!” Y/N exclaimed triumphantly, though most of the team just rolled their eyes at his stubbornness.
“Dude, you’re focusing on the wrong thing. One kid just blasted you with heat vision, and the other healed you with magic that looks a lot like yours,” one of the others pointed out.
“I know, but I proved my point, and that’s what matters,” Y/N replied, his tone a mix of vindication and annoyance.
“As you should,” the oldest child agreed, earning a wary glance from Y/N.
“Okay, how about we start this whole thing over,” Zatanna suggested, cutting through the tension. With a flick of her wrist, she conjured extra seats for Y/N and Conner to sit across from their children. “Let’s try introductions first, and then sort the rest out.”
As everyone repositioned themselves, the youngest child sprang from the couch and darted back to Conner, once again climbing him like a jungle gym.
“Not this again,” Conner groaned, clearly exasperated.
“Told you, it’s his favorite thing. He loves when you come home from work or pick him up from daycare. He also loves tickle fights,” the oldest explained, pointing to Y/N as the little one began poking playfully at Y/N’s side.
“Tickle, tickle…” the young boy giggled, his tiny fingers eliciting the faintest smile from Y/N, despite himself.
Zatanna and Artemis both cooed at the adorable sight, and even the rest of the team seemed to soften at the moment. M’Gann, however, couldn’t hide her discomfort. Abruptly, she left the room, her departure noted by all but especially by those who understood the depth of her feelings.
“So, about those introductions again?” Y/N said, redirecting attention back to the children, who were now all grinning at the prospect of formally meeting their parents.
Conner Kent Junior, or 'CJ' for short, was the oldest of the three future children. Before he was born, his father had embraced the tradition of naming children after oneself, opting for 'Junior' rather than 'The Second.' Surprisingly, Y/N—usually stubborn six days a week and double on Sundays—had agreed to this tradition. Present-day Y/N found it hard to believe he’d relent on anything, especially to Conner. The idea that they were a couple in any reality was hard enough to swallow, let alone the fact that he would so easily give in to Conner’s whims.
Yet, here was CJ—living proof of their future union. The boy was a spitting image of Conner: the same eyes, the same jawline, and the same stoic demeanor in displeasing situations, so much so that one might mistake him for a clone. However, certain subtle traits also revealed the undeniable truth that Y/N was his other biological parent, such as the shared hair texture and, of course, the child’s inherited magical abilities.
But beyond CJ’s physical resemblance to Conner, his personality was a carbon copy of Y/N’s. His attitude, his way of speaking, and even his mannerisms echoed his magical parent so closely that it was both amusing and slightly disconcerting. Apparently, in the future, Y/N had become a powerful wizard—capable of rivaling entities and deities—which CJ mentioned with a hint of pride that threatened to inflate Y/N’s ego even more than usual.
CJ’s adeptness at magic was remarkable, something that nearly rivaled his father’s power. Zatanna had felt the raw and potent magic when they first arrived, and CJ explained that his abilities were tied to ancient magic Y/N had encountered in the past—or was it the future? It was confusing, but either way, it was clear this magic was the reason CJ and his siblings even existed in the first place. The revelation left both of his parents intrigued—and for Y/N, particularly, nervous.
CJ and his brothers had used his magical skills to travel back in time, doubting the stories they’d been told about their parents' rocky relationship. According to their Aunt Zatanna, their parents had not always been the most harmonious duo, and the kids wanted to see it for themselves. Zatanna had told them tales of Y/N taking away Conner's voice in the middle of an argument or using magic to strangle him (briefly) after Conner made a snarky comment about his weight.
"Isn't it ironic that Dad's the one with the temper, but Papa's the one prone to murderous behavior? It's always the quiet ones," CJ had mused with a smirk. "But we wanted to see it for ourselves. You wrote the spell that got us here, but you wouldn’t teach it to me until I was older, or unless it was absolutely necessary."
"Well, that explains why I don’t have a spell like that in my book. But you’re admitting that I didn’t teach you the spell and you went behind my back?" Y/N raised a brow.
"No, I’m not admitting anything. I’m just saying that you didn’t teach me the spell, but you did write it," CJ replied casually.
"That’s not the point, and you know it," Y/N huffed, crossing his arms.
"I’m not saying anything without my lawyer," CJ shot back, barely hiding a smirk.
The quick wit and smart attitude were unmistakably Y/N’s influence. Despite CJ’s striking resemblance to Conner, his magical aptitude and sarcasm were all Y/N—he was clearly his father's son.
Colin, the middle child, was the wild card of the bunch. While CJ bore Conner’s serious demeanor, Colin had inherited Y/N’s mischievous streak and free-spirited nature. He had his father’s hair and eye color, but he possessed all of Conner's powers and temperament. He could also perfectly replicate his father's neutral, glaring expression—his signature stoic face.
The earlier heat blast Colin had unleashed during their arrival was a clear testament to the volatile mix of his genetic heritage. Colin’s abilities, however, had raised a lot of questions, especially since he seemed to have powers that Conner didn’t. Before CJ could elaborate further on Colin’s abilities, Zatanna had quickly stepped in, cautioning them against discussing too much about the future. Revealing too much could damage the timeline—and Y/N certainly didn’t need any more ego boosts.
Colin had also made his feelings about M’Gann very clear when he spoke of a mysterious "green lady" trying to separate his parents, a sentiment that left everyone silently grateful that M’Gann had left the room.
The youngest sibling, Camden Kent, was a perfect blend of his parents. His dark hair and eyes were from Conner, while his skin tone clearly came from Y/N. Though Camden didn’t display any powers yet, his cheerful personality and playful nature brightened any room he was in.
Though there was an undeniable charm to the whole situation, it didn’t make it any less complicated. Y/N had been right about one thing—the spell the kids had used wasn’t supposed to be in their hands. Colin had graciously snitched on his older brother, explaining how CJ had managed to get his hands on the spell by sneaking into Y/N's study while he and Conner were distracted.
"It was all CJ! Papa was making dinner and yelling at Dad about being overprotective, and something about not wanting a repeat of the Phantom Zone thing. CJ snuck into the study, took the spell page, and we used it in his room. I think they heard us, though, 'cause before we zapped out, I heard them rushing upstairs," Colin had said smugly.
Y/N had chuckled, "Me mad at Conner for getting in my way and trying to play hero? Sounds about right."
Conner’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides as Y/N’s words hit a nerve. The jab about playing hero had always been a sore spot, and hearing it now—especially in front of their potential future children—only made the sting sharper.
"Are you serious right now?" Conner growled, his blue eyes narrowing as the tension in the room escalated.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "What? Did I lie?"
"You always do this," Conner bit out, stepping closer. "Acting like you’re above needing help. I was trying to keep you safe—"
"Safe from what? Myself?" Y/N scoffed, crossing his arms. "I can handle things without you jumping in and messing everything up. If you’d stop being such a—"
"Hey!" Zatanna’s voice sliced through the rising tension. "Reirrab." With a wave of her hands, a glowing barrier appeared between them. "Can we not start another fight in front of the kids? I know this is overwhelming, but we need calm heads here."
Conner glared at Y/N but stepped back. Y/N, though clearly annoyed, shifted his stance and rolled his eyes.
"Whatever," Y/N muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Before Conner could respond, a sharp hiss from the couch interrupted them. "You didn’t have to rat me out, you little brat," CJ growled at Colin, who grinned smugly.
"You’re the one who got caught, not me," Colin taunted, sticking out his tongue.
CJ opened his mouth to argue, but a sharp look from Y/N silenced him. "Enough," Y/N said firmly, making both kids sink into their seats.
The room, now charged with tension from the glowering parents and their children was silent. That is until Wally decided to speak up.
"Man, it’s like watching a mini version of you two go at it," he snickered, glancing at the kids. "Like father, like son—times two."
Dick raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Yeah, except I always thought Conner would be the one laying down the law. Not Y/N."
Wally laughed. "Right? Seeing Y/N as the bad cop—"
"Are you kidding?" Artemis cut in, crossing her arms. "Y/N’s always been a strict little stick-in-the-mud. I’m not surprised."
Y/N, who had been pinching the bridge of his nose, finally looked up. "Excuse me, I have always been the responsible one. Conner’s the one who probably thinks letting kids jump off roofs builds character."
Conner scowled. "I don’t see why not. They need to know how to fall."
"Typical," Y/N shot back, grinning sarcastically. "And you wonder why I don’t leave you alone with the kids."
"He's right," CJ chimed in.
"Yeah, Papa never lets you watch us alone for more than an hour after that one mission," Colin added matter-of-factly.
"See! And they said I didn’t know how to make smart decisions," Y/N replied dryly.
Conner sighed in frustration. "I can’t believe this. You’re blaming me for something that hasn’t even happened yet."
"Well, maybe if you weren’t so reckless, I wouldn’t have to worry," Y/N snapped.
"Reckless?" Conner scoffed, his voice rising. "You’re the one always running off and putting yourself in danger!"
Before the bickering could reignite, Zatanna cleared her throat. "Look, we’re not here to debate your future parenting dynamics. We need to figure out how to get these kids back to their timeline."
CJ, who had been fuming after Colin’s betrayal, hesitated. "Uh, about that…"
Y/N narrowed his eyes. "What now?"
The oldest child shifted nervously. "There’s kind of a problem with that."
Wally grinned. "What? You didn’t plan for the return trip?"
CJ flushed. "No, we did! But…"
"But what?" Conner asked, his patience wearing thin.
Colin piped up, "CJ lost the spell page."
All eyes snapped to CJ, who raised his hands defensively. "I didn’t lose it! I just… may not have held onto it tightly enough."
Y/N groaned, rubbing his temples. "You’ve got to be kidding me."
"Yep, definitely your kid," Dick commented with a chuckle.
Zatanna’s lips twitched. "Let me guess, you didn’t memorize the spell before casting it?"
CJ shifted uncomfortably. "We didn’t think we’d need it right away. I was focused on making sure it worked, not the clean-up."
"You didn’t think that maybe—just maybe—you’d need a way to get back?" Y/N asked, his exasperation evident.
"I was going to figure that part out later!" CJ snapped, sounding just as defensive as Y/N usually did when backed into a corner.
Conner crossed his arms. "This sounds familiar."
Y/N shot him a withering look. "Not helping."
Artemis laughed. "So what’s the plan now? We can’t keep these mini-you’s hanging around."
Zatanna nodded. "I can try to reverse the spell, but it’ll take time. I’ll need to gather some materials and maybe consult our spellbook. If future Y/N made it, it shouldn’t be too difficult."
"Hey!" Y/N protested, his ego bruised.
"She’s right," CJ admitted, earning a glare from Y/N.
"So we’re stuck with them," Y/N sighed.
"Hey, we’re right here!" Colin interjected indignantly, crossing his arms. "And it’s not our fault! CJ’s the one who messed it up!"
"Quit throwing me under the bus you ill-brained bug," CJ hissed, his narrowed eyes practically throwing daggers at his younger brother. "Don't call me names! And you did lose it," Colin shot back, his tone equally venomous.
"Enough," Y/N said, eyes hard. "No fighting."
Conner, meanwhile, looked at Camden, still hanging off his arm. The situation was far from what he’d imagined for his future. A family? Kids? He had never pictured it. And Y/N… he never thought they’d become something together. Yet, here they were.
"I'll start working on the reversal spell. In the meantime, we'll have to find a place for the kids to stay," Zatanna continued, ignoring the wounded expression on Y/N's face.
"They’ll stay with us," Conner stated, his tone firm.
Y/N’s brow shot up. "Excuse me? Us?"
"Yes, us. Did I stutter?"
CJ and Colin exchanged quick glances before Colin smirked, nudging his older brother. "Did Dad just use one of Papa's lines against him?" he whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. CJ grinned, nodding. "Yeah, and somehow he's still breathing. Must be a miracle."
The room erupted into soft laughter, with even Wally doubling over in amusement. Artemis gave Conner a playful nudge, her grin wide. "You’re playing a dangerous game, Kent."
Conner and Y/N stood there, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. Conner clenched his jaw while Y/N crossed his arms, a faint blush creeping up his neck.
"Okay," Kaldur intervened, saving them from further embarrassment. "We need to focus on getting them home. Zatanna, you and Y/N can both do research together. CJ can help since he's the one who used it so he may remember some things from it."
Zatanna smiled faintly. "Sounds good. I’m gonna look into a few other things first, though. In the meantime, you might want to prepare yourself for a lot of questions, especially from Batman."
Conner groaned, clearly dreading the inevitable debrief. "Great."
"I have nothing to answer for," Y/N retorted. "I didn’t bring a bunch of kids from the future into the past."
"Maybe not, but you made them," Conner shot back.
"Oh, please. Like you didn’t have a hand in that."
"More than a hand," Artemis snickered.
CJ narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What do you mean by that?"
The entire room, as if rehearsed, answered in unison, "Nothing."
Y/N and Conner had no choice but to let the kids bunk in their rooms until they could figure out how to replicate the spell and send them back to the future. The children, after all, had vehemently refused to sleep in the lounge. CJ had opted to stay with Y/N, while Colin chose Conner's room. Camden, at first, didn’t show a preference, but eventually made his decision clear by reaching for Conner. Despite wanting to wipe the smug grin off Y/N’s face, Conner gave in without much protest.
However, Y/N found no peace, especially with CJ bombarding him with questions about their relationship:
"Have you and Dad gone on a first date yet?"
"No."
"Have you guys kissed yet?"
"No—I... That’s a grown folks' question."
"So, when do you think you'll go on a first date?"
"Do you have an off button?"
"Do I look like a toy from Target to you?"
"Damn, you really are my son."
"Bad word."
"Sorry."
"Why do you guys sleep in separate rooms? You have your own room together back home."
"Uh... what did I say about grown folks' questions?!"
The questions seemed endless. Despite Y/N growing increasingly tired, he found himself surprisingly unbothered. Normally, anything that disturbed his rest would drive him mad, but for some reason, he found it hard to get annoyed by CJ’s relentless curiosity. Perhaps he understood. If Y/N were in the kid’s shoes, he’d probably be asking a million questions too.
"Hey, Papa?"
"Hmm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
Does it ever end?
"Sure, kiddo," Y/N sighed, staring up at the rocky ceiling of his bedroom.
"What's the deal with you and Dad?"
Y/N froze, his eyes fixated on the ceiling as CJ’s innocent question hung in the air. He shouldn’t have been surprised, especially considering how sharp the kid was. This conversation was bound to happen at some point—though he would’ve preferred it to be later. He didn’t even know the answer himself.
What was the deal between him and Conner? That was the real question. The relationship was complicated, to say the least, and it was certainly not something Y/N was eager to explain to his future son. A nervous chuckle escaped his lips as he shifted on the bed, trying to buy himself some time. “That’s a... big question, kiddo.”
CJ, lying on his side, propped his head up on his hand, eyes wide with curiosity. “Yeah, but you guys love each other, right?”
Y/N gulped. Of course, the kid would jump straight to the heart of the matter. How was he supposed to answer that without messing up CJ’s perception of the future—or worse, letting his complicated feelings for Conner bubble to the surface in front of a child? He didn’t want to lie, but the truth... well, the truth was messy. And kids didn’t handle messy well.
“Well...” Y/N began, stalling as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Love is... complicated.”
CJ’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean by complicated?”
Y/N winced. Damn, these kids ask too many questions. He shifted again, trying to figure out how to tiptoe through this conversation. “I mean, sometimes people have... feelings for each other, but they don’t always know how to deal with them right away. Like, your dad and I... we argue a lot because we’re still figuring things out.”
CJ tilted his head, clearly not convinced. “But Auntie Z said you guys argue a lot in the future too. She said you love each other, but you’re both kinda... stubborn.”
Y/N pinched the bridge of his nose. Zatanna, I’m going to kill you. He sighed deeply, turning his head to look at CJ. “Yeah, that sounds about right. We’re both pretty stubborn. And when two people are like that, it takes them longer to... you know, get on the same page.”
CJ’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “So you do love each other!”
Y/N’s stomach flipped. He wanted to deny it, to downplay everything. But looking at CJ’s expectant face, he realized he couldn’t outright lie. He’d never been great at lying anyway. “It’s... complicated, like I said.”
CJ groaned, clearly frustrated with that answer. “You keep saying ‘complicated,’ but what does that even mean? Do you want to be with Dad?”
Y/N tensed, his heart racing. Okay, this is too much. “Uh... I think we should save this conversation for when you’re a little older, kid. Like, maybe a lot older. Or, you know, when you’re back in your timeline and it’s Future Me’s problem.”
CJ gave him an unimpressed look. “That’s a cop-out answer.”
Y/N snorted despite himself. “I... Who taught you that?”
“You did.”
“Of course I did,” Y/N muttered, shaking his head.
CJ wasn’t letting this go, and Y/N knew it. Y/N sighed, glancing back up at the ceiling, emotions stirring up that he wasn’t prepared to deal with. It wasn’t just complicated—it was a mess, a tangled web of miscommunication, stubbornness, and unspoken feelings that spanned the years since he joined the Team. He thought back to when he first arrived, how Dr. Fate had sensed the raw potential in him and demanded that he go under the Justice League's protection. Y/N didn’t have much of a choice back then, and neither did the Team when they were told he’d be joining.
At first, it wasn’t so bad. Y/N got along with everyone easily, even found a mentor in Zatanna and Zatara who was still being used as a host by Dr. Fate which is how he found him in the first place.
But Conner? Conner was different. It was as though the Kryptonian had built a wall the size of Metropolis between them, remaining cold and indifferent despite Y/N’s attempts to connect. Y/N hadn’t expected to become best friends overnight, but the sheer lack of acknowledgment hurt more than he let on. He remembered how Conner would barely look in his direction, like Y/N didn’t exist, even though he treated everyone else like family.
It was confusing, especially when Y/N noticed how Conner always positioned himself near him during missions—ready to intervene but never willing to share a word afterward. That subtle protectiveness should’ve been reassuring, but it drove Y/N mad. If Conner didn’t care, why hover around him like some kind of silent guardian?
After months of trying, Y/N finally gave up. He mirrored the cold treatment, stopped reaching out, and focused on the rest of the team. But then, something shifted. The moment Y/N stopped trying, Conner started. The once silent indifference turned into sharp comments and antagonistic behavior. It was like Conner needed to get a rise out of him, and no one could push Conner’s buttons the way Y/N could.
Pretty soon, they were constantly at each other's throats (sometimes literally), bickering over the smallest things. Everyone else just rolled their eyes and let them sort it out, but the tension between them was palpable.
Looking back now, Y/N wondered if something had always been simmering beneath the surface, something neither of them knew how to admit. Maybe Conner’s way of dealing with whatever feelings he had was to push Y/N away, to lash out. Y/N wasn’t sure what scared him more—the idea that Conner never cared or the possibility that he cared too much and didn’t know how to handle it.
And now, faced with a future version of himself that had apparently figured it out, Y/N was stuck in a mess of emotions that defined their present. The thought made his chest tighten, and he shook his head, trying to push it aside. He wasn’t ready to untangle all of that just yet, especially not with CJ watching him, waiting for answers.
He glanced over at the kid, still staring at him with a mix of confusion and determination.
“Look, CJ, it’s... complicated,” Y/N repeated, knowing it was a weak excuse. “Your dad and I have a lot of history, and a lot of that is... well, not great. It’s a work in progress.”
The room fell silent for a moment, and Y/N hoped the interrogation was over. He closed his eyes, trying to relax, but CJ’s voice cut through the peace again.
“So... if you’re not together yet, does that mean I could mess it up by being here?” CJ’s voice was quieter this time, tinged with genuine concern.
Y/N’s heart sank. He hadn’t expected that. “Hey, no, no—nothing like that,” he said quickly, turning to face CJ. “You being here isn’t going to mess anything up. Don’t ever think that.”
CJ’s big eyes looked up at him, full of uncertainty. “But what if Colin, Camden, and I being here changes things? What if you and Dad aren’t meant to be together because of us? I don’t want to mess up your future.”
Y/N felt a pang in his chest. He could see how much CJ cared, how much this meant to him. The kid didn’t want to lose the family he had, and Y/N couldn’t blame him. Hell, Y/N didn’t know what the future held between him and Conner, but seeing CJ so worried made him realize just how important that future was—to these kids, at least.
He placed a hand on CJ’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. “CJ, listen. No matter what happens, you three aren’t going to change what’s meant to be, okay? Whether your dad and I figure things out now or later, that’s up to us. But you don’t need to worry about it.”
CJ’s expression softened slightly, but he still seemed unsure. “You promise?”
Y/N hesitated for a second, then nodded. “I promise.”
CJ studied his father for a long moment, then let out a sigh of relief and flopped back onto the bed. “Okay, if you say so.”
Y/N smirked, feeling like he’d defused the situation—until CJ spoke again.
“But seriously, you guys need to hurry up and kiss. You’re taking forever.”
Y/N groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Oh my god, please stop.”
CJ giggled, clearly pleased with himself. “Well, it’s true. You’re way more lovey-dovey in the future. Like, gross sometimes.”
Y/N pulled his hands away from his face, narrowing his eyes at the boy. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
CJ shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face.
Y/N rolled his eyes, turning back to the ceiling. He tried not to think about the fact that his future self was apparently a lot more affectionate with Conner, or the fact that CJ was clearly comfortable with it.
He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across his cheeks. This was going to be a long night.
Just as the eleven-year-old finally appeared to be settling down, a knock at Y/N’s door pierced the growing calm. He couldn’t mask the annoyance in his grunt as he called out for whoever was there to enter.
The door opened to reveal Conner, struggling to soothe a fussy Camden, with Colin in tow. Both Kryptonians looked exhausted, their matching bed-heads and disgruntled grimaces completing the picture.
Y/N was caught off guard by the endearing yet disheveled sight of them—Conner in his casual home attire, with Colin standing by his side like a shadow, and Camden, a perfect blend of Y/N’s and Conner’s features, in his arms. The scene felt surprisingly right.
“He won’t stop crying and fussing,” Conner explained, his voice tinged with fatigue. “I’ve tried everything. I think he wants to sleep with you.”
Taking Camden into his arms, Y/N immediately felt the toddler relax. “What’s up, buddy? Is your Daddy keeping you up with all his grumbling?”
“I didn’t do anything! He was fine half an hour ago, then he woke up crying. When I tried to calm him down, he just got fussier and started calling for his 'Papa’ over and over.”
CJ, from his spot on the bed, chimed in, “He probably had a nightmare. It’s hard for him to go back to sleep afterward.”
“And how do we get him back to sleep?” Conner asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.
“He usually sleeps in bed with you,” CJ answered.
“He was already doing that, and it didn’t help,” Conner replied, clearly exhausted.
“With both of you,” CJ clarified.
Y/N and Conner exchanged stunned looks, the suggestion hanging awkwardly in the air. “Uh, are you sure there’s no other way to calm him down?” Y/N asked, his voice laced with hesitation as he and Conner avoided each other’s gaze.
“Nope. So, scoot over and make some room,” Colin said, settling the matter with a tone that brokered no argument. With a reluctant shuffle, Y/N and CJ made room on the bed, both Y/N and Conner still clearly uncomfortable with the closeness but willing to do what was needed for the youngest Kent.
As they settled into an awkward silence, Camden, now nestled between them, began to quiet down, his sniffles subsiding as he felt the reassuring presence of both his parents. The soft glow of the nightlight spell Y/N conjured cast gentle shadows across the room, softening the edges of the tense atmosphere.
“Well, ain’t this cozy,” Y/N quipped, trying to cut through the awkwardness with a bit of humor. Conner just grunted in response, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, clearly wrestling with the intimacy of the situation.
CJ and Colin, seated toward the middle of the bed between their parents’ legs, watched the scene with knowing looks. “You guys are really weird about this,” CJ commented, shaking his head. “You do this all the time back home.”
Conner sighed, his gruff tone betraying his discomfort. “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly 'back home,’ kid.”
CJ shrugged, then finally settled down, his eyes growing heavier as the night’s events took their toll. Conner, still visibly uncomfortable, shifted slightly, turning on his side to face away from Y/N, while Y/N remained on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The room fell into a profound silence, the only sounds being the gentle breathing of the boys as they finally succumbed to sleep.
In the dim light, Y/N and Conner lay awake, each lost in their own thoughts. The physical closeness, necessitated by Camden’s need for comfort, forced them into a proximity neither had anticipated—at least not under these circumstances. As the minutes dragged into hours, neither spoke. The air between them was thick with confusion, unresolved tension, and an undeniable sense of familial bond that neither could quite embrace nor deny.
Y/N’s mind raced with a mix of future possibilities and present discomforts. He turned his head slightly, glancing at Conner’s back and noting the tension in his shoulders. The fact that they could be a family—a real family, with laughs, fights, bedtime stories, and morning cuddles—felt absurd. Yet, somehow, it also felt right, in a way that scared him.
It was a future that felt like a dream, one so vivid during sleep but absurdly distant upon waking.
Conner, for his part, was equally conflicted. The physical presence of Y/N so close yet so far in spirit was jarring. He was used to tackling problems head-on, not lying silently next to them. The warmth from Y/N’s body, the sound of his breathing, and the soft rustle of sheets each time he moved—all served as acute reminders of what could be—a future intertwined with Y/N, a man he had known as a teammate but never as something more.
As Camden shifted in his sleep, mumbling softly and curling closer to Y/N, Conner let out a soft sigh. This was what family felt like—messy, uncomfortable, yet filled with unexpected moments of tenderness.
Fate was a cruel thing to dangle something so perfect right next to him, knowing that once this night was over, it would be back to reality.
The night stretched on, and though sleep tugged at their eyelids, both Y/N and Conner resisted, each caught in their own whirlwind of thoughts. They remained awake, guardians of the quiet peace that had settled over their children, protectors of a future still unwritten.
Finally, as the first hints of dawn crept through the curtains, signaling a new day, Y/N and Conner allowed themselves a moment of rest. Their eyes closed, not out of comfort with each other, but from sheer exhaustion. The sun would rise on two men still unsure of their path forward, but for now, they were bound by a shared responsibility and an unspoken commitment to the well-being of the children who had started the process of slowly bringing them together.
The next morning, Y/N and Conner were greeted by three simultaneous realizations. The first was the peculiar sensation of being surrounded on all sides—Y/N found CJ and Camden clinging to him like koalas, while Conner awoke to the unpleasant surprise of a foot in his face and a toe nearly up his nose, courtesy of Colin.
The second realization came when they noticed how close they had ended up to each other during the night, their bodies naturally gravitating together as if seeking warmth in the pile of kids nestled between them. It was a proximity neither had planned for, yet somehow, in the night’s deep silence, it didn’t feel… wrong.
Didn’t stop them from trying to scoot away from each other, though.
The third and most jarring realization came when the sound of cooing and giggling shattered the morning calm. Y/N blinked his eyes open, adjusting to the bright lights, only to see Zatanna, Artemis, Dick, and Wally gathered at the doorway, barely containing their laughter, smartphones in hand.
“What the—” Y/N started, his voice groggy and laced with confusion.
“Morning, sunshine!” Dick greeted with a smirk, snapping pictures as quickly as possible. “Don’t you all look nice and cozy?”
“It’s not every day we see such a picturesque family moment,” Zatanna added, her tone dripping with mock sweetness.
Conner, fully awake now, grimaced as he gently removed Colin’s foot from his face. “Can you guys not?” he muttered, trying to salvage some dignity.
Y/N, who, like many others, was not a fan of being photographed first thing in the morning, shot a glare at the group. “You all better consider yourselves lucky I’m still half-asleep. Otherwise, you’d all be something I could swat at right about now.”
Artemis, unfazed, grinned. She knew Y/N wouldn’t hurt a fly (unless it was an actual fly), especially not his friends.
Dick, on the other hand, was not so confident and took a cautious step back, just in case.
Wally, always the instigator, couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease one of his closest friends. He leaned against the doorframe, a mischievous grin on his face. “So, how was your night, lovebirds? Get up to anything interesting?”
Colin rubbed his eyes groggily, blinking up at Wally from his spot on the bed. “What do you mean by ‘interesting’?” he asked, his voice innocent but filled with curiosity.
Without missing a beat, everyone—Y/N, Conner, Dick, Artemis, Zatanna, and Wally—responded in unison, “Nothing.”
Colin blinked again, clearly not satisfied but too sleepy to push further. He shrugged it off, snuggling back into the blankets.
“Anyway,” Dick started, his tone slightly more serious, “Batman’s here. He’s waiting for you and your ‘guests’ in the mission room.”
Y/N groaned, the dread immediately washing over him. “Oh, come on. This early?”
“Batman doesn’t sleep, Y/N,” Zatanna quipped, smirking as she crossed her arms.
The kids, on the other hand, perked up at the mention of Batman. CJ’s eyes lit up with excitement, and he nearly launched himself out of bed. “Uncle Bruce is here?!” he exclaimed, practically bouncing in place. “We get to meet him in his prime!”
Colin’s face mirrored his brother’s excitement. “Yeah! We’ve never seen Uncle Bruce younger than when he was old and retired!”
Y/N winced, rubbing his temples. “Great. Because that’s exactly what I needed today. Batman in his prime.” He glanced at Conner, who was already starting to untangle himself from the bed and the web of blankets.
Conner met his gaze, both of them instantly realizing the same thing: one of them was going to have to explain this entire situation to the Batman. Neither looked eager to volunteer.
Y/N groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, uh... you're explaining this to Batman, right? Cool, great!” he said, trying to shift the burden onto Conner.
Conner shot him a sidelong glance as he finally freed himself from Colin’s grasp. “Why should I explain it? You’re the one who created the damn spell. This is on you.”
"Ah, future me did that. Present me, on the other hand, has done no such thing. So, therefore, this falls on you. See, math," Y/N said with his usual sarcastic tone. “And I didn’t bring three kids from the future back here. That’s not on me!”
“Oh, but I’m not their only father, am I?” Conner shot back, keeping his voice as low as possible but still sharp.
Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, so when it’s convenient for you to use the father title, now you want to use it? Yesterday you were acting like it was some cosmic mistake!”
As the bickering continued, Wally leaned over to Artemis and muttered with a grin, "Man, they’re already nailing the divorced parents thing. Ten out of ten performance."
Artemis smirked, not missing a beat. “Yeah, all that’s missing is the custody battle.”
“I didn’t say—” Conner started, but CJ, who had been watching the whole exchange, interrupted with an amused but exasperated tone.
“You know, if you guys are trying to keep quiet, you’re not doing a very good job,” he pointed out, his voice deadpan as he hopped off the bed.
Both men stopped mid-bicker, realizing the volume of their conversation had escalated. They shared a brief, awkward silence before Y/N sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Right. Sorry, CJ.”
“Are we going or what?” Colin asked, looking ready to sprint toward the mission room, his excitement bubbling over.
Conner grumbled under his breath as he pulled his shirt on, shooting Y/N another look. “I’m still not explaining it.”
Y/N threw up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine! I’ll explain it to Batman. But if he glares a hole through my head, I’m holding you responsible.”
“Deal,” Conner muttered as he turned to usher the kids toward the door.
Wally, who had been watching the entire exchange with great amusement, shook his head. “You guys are so much fun in the mornings. Really sets the tone for the day.”
Y/N shot him a half-hearted glare. “Wally, if you don’t stop talking, I will personally turn you into a decorative garden gnome.”
Wally just grinned wider, following the group as they headed out. "Try me, magic boy."
As they all made their way down the hall, CJ and Colin buzzed with excitement at the prospect of meeting the Dark Knight in his prime, while Y/N mentally prepared himself for what was sure to be a long conversation with Batman.
When they arrived at the mission room, Batman stood with his arms crossed, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Superman and Dr. Fate flanked him, both with differing reactions already written across their faces. Superman wore a look of quiet curiosity, while Dr. Fate’s imposing helmet tilted slightly, as if analyzing every moment with critical intensity.
Y/N barely had time to feel the weight of their combined presence before a chorus of "Uncle Bruce!" filled the room, followed by the stampede of three excited children. CJ, Colin, and Camden rushed past Y/N and Conner, crashing into Batman with a level of enthusiasm normally reserved for holidays.
Batman barely moved, standing firm as three small bodies collided with him. His expression never wavered from his usual deadpan. He looked down at the kids clinging to his legs and tugging at his cape like it was any other Tuesday.
"Hello, boys," he greeted, his voice even, betraying no emotion.
"Uncle Bruce, you're so young!" CJ exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder.
"Yeah, you're not old and retired yet," Colin chimed in, his tone equally awestruck.
Camden, meanwhile, had attached himself to Batman's leg, refusing to let go. "Bat Bat," the toddler babbled, his voice muffled against the fabric of the suit as he began his usual routine of climbing up the grown man who, once again, was not fazed by the action.
A chorus of "Awws" echoed from behind Y/N, as Artemis and Zatanna both cooed at the sight of the two-year-old climbing all over Batman like a jungle gym. Meanwhile, Conner stood there, his arms crossed tightly as he watched his youngest son cling to the Dark Knight, not feeling a slight ounce of jealousy at the sight. Not one bit...
Y/N exchanged a glance with Conner, both of them unsure how to proceed. Batman’s piercing gaze and silent command made it clear someone needed to start explaining. But the Dark Knight simply looked back at the three of them, his expression unreadable, as if a trio of future children showing up out of nowhere was nothing out of the ordinary.
"Uncle Bruce! Can we see the Batcave later?" Colin asked, practically vibrating with excitement.
Batman merely raised an eyebrow under his cowl. “We’ll see.”
Y/N’s nervousness spiked. The fact that Batman was completely unfazed made him even more anxious. The Dark Knight was known for his cold efficiency and intimidating nature, but this calm acceptance of three kids who claimed to be the future children of his two protégés felt... ominous.
Superman, on the other hand, chuckled warmly as the boys shifted their attention to him.
“Uncle Clark!” Colin shouted, springing off the ground into the air toward the Man of Steel with just as much enthusiasm. “You still look the same, but somehow still young. That's so cool!"
Y/N, Conner, and pretty much everyone else in the room (except for Batman) stared in utter shock, watching the eight-year-old hover in the air next to Superman, who also looked a bit surprised.
"Is he—" Wally started, his eyes wide.
"Flying?" Artemis finished, her mouth hanging open.
"You can fly," Conner stated, his voice a mix of astonishment and confusion.
"Well, duh," Colin said, rolling his eyes. "Dad and Uncle Clark showed me how. Uncle Clark, look at this trick I learned," he added with an excited grin.
Before anyone could react, Colin rocketed upward, performing a flawless loop in the air, zipping in a spiral before descending slowly to hover near Superman. His face radiated pride, clearly relishing the opportunity to show off his flying skills. Superman watched him, still a bit stunned, but with a warm, amused smile on his face.
"Ta-da!" Colin shouted, floating back down beside him, his excitement undiminished. He began circling around Superman. "Do you not age because you're Kryptonian? Wow, I can't wait to be strong and ancient to!"
Superman chuckled, reaching out to ruffle Colin's hair. "I'll take that as a compliment," he said, his voice light but tinged with curiosity. "So, this is what the future looks like for you guys, huh?"
Colin grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Yep! And you’re still the strongest! I can't wait to show you some more tricks."
As Colin continued to hover, defying gravity with ease, Conner stood frozen. He hadn’t moved, his gaze locked on his son as he watched him hover so effortlessly. A strange tightness formed in his chest, bittersweet and unspoken. Colin could fly. Not with the assistance of a shield like him, but on his own. Part of Conner felt immense pride, but another part couldn’t help but feel that uncomfortable tightness deepen—a sense of longing for something he couldn’t quite articulate.
"He can fly," Conner muttered, catching the attention of CJ, who was watching his brother show off with an annoyed expression that softened when he saw his dad's reaction.
"Yeah, we found out just after Colin turned about five. That was a fun day for you two, especially since you had to chase him around the house for hours. He thought it was hilarious, but you and Papa weren’t too happy," CJ explained, his voice softer than usual.
Conner, still a bit stunned, nodded slowly. "That sounds... fun," he said, his tone lacking enthusiasm.
CJ looked like he wanted to say more, but his Aunt Zatanna's warning and the thoughts from his conversation last night with his Papa loomed over him. Instead, he decided to change the subject.
"So, um, yeah, that's Colin—middle kid," he said, turning back to his uncles, hoping to shift the conversation.
"What about you?" Superman asked, turning his attention to CJ.
"I'm Conner Kent Junior, or CJ for short. I'm the oldest and the leader of our team," CJ replied, puffing his chest out a bit.
Everyone chuckled softly, except for Batman, though, for the smallest sliver of a moment, the corner of his lip upturned into a tiny smirk.
"And that's Camden, the youngest," CJ continued, gesturing to the toddler who was now perched on Batman's shoulder, playing with the pointed ears of his mask.
"Bat Bat," Camden repeated, his adorable smile plastered all over his face.
"Yes, I am," Batman said, his voice as flat as ever, but his expression softened just a little.
Y/N turned, catching Conner’s gaze, which remained fixed on Colin, who was still hovering effortlessly in the air. The look on Conner’s face—bittersweet and filled with a mix of pride and something else Y/N couldn’t quite place—tugged at him. It wasn’t often Conner wore his heart on his sleeve, but in this moment, the unspoken emotion in his eyes was impossible to miss.
Y/N found himself feeling something unexpected—a sudden, quiet protectiveness. It wasn’t just about Colin flying, but the realization that Conner was watching a part of his son that he could never truly share. There was no jealousy or bitterness in Y/N's own heart, only a desire to make sure Conner knew that he wasn’t alone in this, that Y/N understood.
He cleared his throat softly, stepping closer to Colin, who was still circling around Superman in excited loops. “Alright, Colin, time to come down.”
Colin, his face flushed with excitement, ignored him at first. “But Papa, I haven’t shown Uncle Clark the trick where I—”
“I said down, Colin,” Y/N interrupted, his voice taking on a particular tone. A tone he probably inherited from his own parent—the one that could stop him in his tracks as a kid, and evidently, one that worked on Colin too.
Colin froze mid-loop, his defiant expression faltering for a moment as he hovered a few feet above the ground. “But—”
“Now,” Y/N added, his voice firm yet still gentle, his gaze unwavering.
With a dramatic sigh that only an eight-year-old could muster, Colin slowly descended to the ground, landing lightly on his feet. “Fine, fine,” he muttered, crossing his arms and scowling slightly. “I was just having fun…”
Y/N smiled softly, crouching down so he was eye-level with his son. “You can show Uncle Clark more later, okay? Right now, we need to focus.”
Colin huffed but nodded, the defiance in his eyes giving way to a grudging understanding. He glanced up at Superman, who gave him an encouraging nod, and then back at his dad, the scowl easing from his face.
“Good,” Y/N said, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Thanks, kiddo.”
As Colin sulked back to his brothers, Y/N straightened, his gaze shifting back to Conner, who had been watching the exchange silently. There was a flicker of something in Conner’s eyes—surprise, maybe? Or perhaps a quiet gratitude that Y/N had stepped in, that he understood without needing Conner to say anything.
For a moment, Y/N hesitated, feeling the weight of the unspoken between them. It was strange, this sudden need to make sure Conner was okay. Usually, they were too busy pushing each other's buttons, too wrapped up in their own frustrations. But now, seeing the vulnerability in Conner’s expression, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the tug of something... different.
“You good?” Y/N asked quietly, his voice low so the kids wouldn’t hear.
Conner blinked, as if caught off guard by the question. His eyes flicked from Y/N to Colin, then back again. “Yeah,” he said after a moment, though his voice was softer than usual, almost contemplative. “I’m fine.”
Y/N gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod. He didn’t press further, didn’t want to push. Instead, he let the silence between them linger, a silence that felt strangely comfortable for once, even with all the chaos surrounding them.
For a split second, the air between them felt... less heavy. Less filled with the usual tension. There was no sarcastic retort, no biting comment. Just... an understanding.
But before either of them could dwell on the moment, CJ, ever the instigator, piped up with his usual boundless energy. “So, can we see the Batcave now?”
Batman’s stern voice cut through the room, as calm and composed as ever. “Later.”
CJ’s shoulders slumped dramatically. “Ugh, fine...”
After introductions were made, in true Batman fashion, he had DNA tests administered to confirm what Y/N, Conner, and all their friends already knew.
"The results are conclusive," Batman announced, his voice as stoic as ever. "Superboy and Y/N are both the paternal fathers to these children."
"Well, duh," Colin replied, rolling his eyes. "We told you that. But, what does paternal mean?"
"It means they're both our dads, dummy. And there's no need to be rude, Colin," CJ admonished, his tone exasperated. "It's not like we're lying."
"Stop calling me names! You're not the boss of me," Colin shot back, his cheeks flushing with anger.
"Actually, I am. I'm the oldest, so I'm the leader," CJ countered, his voice rising.
"No, you're not," Colin argued, his eyes narrowing.
"Yes, I am," CJ insisted, his temper flaring.
"No, you're not," Colin repeated, his voice growing louder.
"Yes, I am!" CJ yelled, his voice matching his brother's volume.
"Boys," Y/N warned, his voice firm.
"Sorry, Papa," CJ and Colin replied, their voices instantly contrite.
"I can't believe this is my life," Y/N groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"It's not so bad," Conner offered, his tone surprisingly gentle. "At least they're not fighting anymore."
Y/N let out a long, dramatic sigh, rubbing his face. “Fifteen hours ago, my life was normal. Now I have three kids from the future, and one of them’s trying to order around his brothers like he’s Batman.”
Superman chuckled warmly, offering Y/N a smile that somehow practically radiated paternal understanding. “It’s just the beginning, Y/N. You’ll get used to it. Eventually.”
"You got a kid I don't know about, Clarkie?" Y/N responded with a raised brow.
Superman returned his own raised brow at the nickname. "Clarkie?"
CJ turned his head toward the two men. "He calls you that all the time. Though, you seem a lot more surprised and annoyed about it now than you do in the future."
Y/N groaned while Clark chuckled at the kid's sharp observation.
"If this is what my mother meant by my kid being the karma to me for what I was to her, I want a do-over."
"Too late for that," Conner remarked, his lips quirking into a small, amused smile.
"Would you hush?" Y/N grumbled, shooting him a half-hearted glare.
“Well, I can't wait to see how we survive this,” Wally chimed in, shooting a look at CJ and Colin. “I mean, you’ve got two kids who are basically replicas of their parents, with an equal level of emotional control. One's trying to play leader, and the other... well, let’s just say I’m seeing Conner 2.0 with a side of ‘no chill.’”
Conner shot Wally a flat look but remained silent, his arms crossed as he watched Camden poke and prod at Batman’s suit. The toddler was giggling uncontrollably, practically hanging off Bruce’s arm, tugging at his cape like it was a new toy. Meanwhile, Batman stood perfectly still, as if he didn’t even notice. His expression remained unreadable, but there was something—just a hint—that suggested he wasn’t exactly unhappy with the tiny human attached to him.
“I never thought I’d see the day,” Y/N muttered, glancing at Bruce’s unflinching demeanor. “A kid hanging off Batman, and he’s... not scowling. And here I am, trying to make sense of how this is somehow my life now or going to be my life in the future.”
Zatanna stifled a laugh, leaning against the wall. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? One day you’re acting like the kid, and the next you’re trying to manage three kids.”
“I don’t know whether to laugh or cry,” Y/N responded, glancing down at CJ, who was still trying his best to act like the "responsible" one, even if Colin was clearly not having it.
Artemis smirked. “Maybe both. We could use the entertainment.”
Y/N groaned. “I’m not here to entertain, Artemis.”
“You’re doing a great job of it, though,” she shot back with a grin.
Just as Y/N was about to respond, the door slid open, and M’Gann entered the room, holding a tray of snacks. Her presence caused an immediate shift in the room’s atmosphere. She smiled, but it was tight, strained even, her eyes flicking toward Y/N and the kids with clear unease. “I, uh, brought these for the kids,” she said, her voice polite but distant.
CJ, who was always quick to pick up on tension, noticed M’Gann’s discomfort and shot a wary glance at his brother. Colin, oblivious as ever, simply perked up at the sight of snacks. “Snacks! Finally!” he shouted, taking a step toward M’Gann’s tray, only to be yanked back by CJ’s firm grip.
Colin pouted but didn’t argue, instead crossing his arms and muttering, “I hate it when he acts like he’s the boss.”
Y/N couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the exchange. “You’re not helping, CJ,” he muttered under his breath before his attention shifted back to M’Gann, who stood awkwardly near the doorway, the boys clearly unsure how to approach her.
Wally, noticing the tension, tried to lighten the mood. “So, Camden looks pretty comfortable over there,” he quipped, gesturing toward the tiny toddler still clinging to Batman’s shoulder. “Who knew Bruce would be such a hit with kids?”
Camden giggled, poking Bruce in the cheek. “Bat Bat!”
Batman didn’t move, though Y/N could have sworn he saw the tiniest twitch of his lips. He wasn’t exactly scowling—and in Batman terms, that was practically a smile.
“I’ll be damned,” Y/N muttered. “Yeah, I’m definitely living in some weird alternate universe.”
M’Gann, however, remained tense, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. The kids seemed to pick up on her discomfort, and though Colin’s attention was still focused on the snacks, CJ’s eyes flicked nervously between her and Y/N. There was an awkward silence, the unspoken tension between M’Gann and the family hanging in the air.
Just as Y/N considered trying to say something, the atmosphere shifted dramatically, an intense, almost suffocating pressure filling the room.
"Ahem."
The weight of the room shifted, all eyes turning to Dr. Fate, his presence more imposing than ever with the golden cape draped over him, the helmet of Nabu gleaming ominously in the dim lighting. Giovanni Zatara's mortal voice was completely gone, replaced by the booming, ethereal tone of the Lord of Order. His deep voice reverberated off the walls, demanding attention.
"This situation is not to be taken lightly," Dr. Fate intoned, his words hanging heavy in the air. "The arrival of these children from a future timeline—brought here through magic—has the potential to disrupt the balance of time and space. The consequences of their presence could ripple through the past, present, and future, with devastating results."
The lighthearted energy in the room immediately deflated, the playful mood dashed away by Fate’s dire warning. Even Camden, perched on Batman’s shoulder, seemed to sense the seriousness of the moment, his babbling quieting as he curiously played with the pointed ears of Batman's cowl.
Superman’s easygoing smile faltered, his expression shifting into one of concern. “How bad are we talking?” he asked, his voice lower and more cautious now.
Fate’s helmet tilted ever so slightly, the glowing eyes narrowing. “Temporal magic is not only complex but perilous. The smallest disruption can lead to unforeseen consequences. The longer these children remain in the past, the more likely the timeline will fracture. Their very presence risks creating divergences—events that may never occur, or worse, events that should not happen but will.”
His gaze shifted to CJ, the weight of his words intensifying. “But of greater concern is the fact that a child of his age was able to perform such a powerful spell with no guidance or oversight from his father.” The glowing eyes behind the helm seemed to bore into Y/N, though the judgment lay with CJ. “No matter who taught him, such magic should not be wielded by one so young. It requires control, experience, and most importantly, restraint—qualities that take years, if not decades, to master. And yet, he succeeded in casting it.”
Y/N swallowed hard, his attention snapping to his son, who shifted nervously under Fate’s scrutiny. The weight of the implications settled over the room like a heavy fog. CJ, barely eleven, had performed a spell far beyond what should be possible for someone his age.
Fate’s voice remained steady, but there was a dark edge to it. “That a child of his age can even wield such power in casting a spell of that magnitude without proper teaching or supervision is concerning in itself. Magic of this level, cast without the necessary experience, is not only dangerous but reckless. The consequences of a misstep—of even the slightest deviation in its execution—could have been catastrophic.”
CJ bit his lip, his earlier enthusiasm fading under the weight of Fate’s words. He looked down, guilt flickering in his eyes, as Y/N’s stomach twisted with both concern and the unspoken pressure of responsibility.
Superman and Batman exchanged glances, the levity of the moment completely gone. Batman’s expression had hardened, though the toddler still clung to his shoulder, oblivious to the gravity of the situation.
“I didn’t mean to—” CJ began, his voice small, but Fate held up a hand, silencing him.
“Intent matters little when tampering with forces that defy time and space,” Fate continued, his voice resonating like an ancient echo. “The fact that you were able to do so speaks to an alarming raw power within you. A power that, without proper control, poses a threat to not only yourself but everyone around you.”
Y/N inhaled deeply, his heart heavy as he took in the full weight of what Fate was saying. His son—his eleven-year-old son—had tapped into something dangerous. And though Y/N had always known CJ had potential, this was... beyond anything he could have anticipated.
Fate’s eyes glowed even brighter, his voice growing more severe. “Raw power without discipline is more dangerous than any external threat. It is chaotic, unpredictable. You acted without full comprehension of the consequences, and that is not just reckless—it is irresponsible. Your abilities, if left unchecked, could tear the fabric of time itself.”
CJ’s shoulders hunched, his earlier confidence slipping away entirely. His eyes darted toward Y/N, then to the ground, his hands trembling slightly as he wrung them together. The weight of Fate’s words was pressing down on him, hard and unrelenting. He hadn’t meant to cause any harm, hadn’t realized just how dangerous his actions could be. The gravity of the situation—of potentially damaging the timeline and putting everyone he cared about at risk—was sinking in, fast.
Fate, however, didn’t let up. His voice echoed like thunder in the stillness of the room. “You are a child. A child with access to power that can upend entire realities. Do you understand the responsibility that comes with such abilities? You cast a spell beyond your understanding—beyond what should even be possible for someone your age—and in doing so, you’ve placed the timeline, and everyone within it, in jeopardy.”
Tears welled up in CJ’s eyes, his face crumpling as he tried to hold back the flood of emotions now overwhelming him. “I-I didn’t mean to... I just wanted to see you all... I just wanted to—” His voice broke, a sob escaping before he could stop it. He wiped at his eyes, trying to stay composed, but the guilt and fear were written all over his face.
Y/N’s heart clenched at the sight. Just the night before, he’d seen how worried CJ had been about messing things up, about somehow ruining the future for him and Conner. And now, Fate’s harsh words were doing exactly that—filling the kid with an unbearable sense of guilt. Y/N could feel it rising in him—an anger that came from a place deeper than usual, that soft protectiveness from before now something fierce he couldn’t ignore.
“That’s enough,” Y/N said, his voice sharper than anyone had heard it all day. He stepped forward, grabbing CJ and pulling the boy against him who immediately wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in his side, desperately trying to hide his tears. “He’s just a kid, Fate. You’ve made your point.”
Colin made his way over to his brother to comfort him, a red hue in his irises as he looked ready to blow a hole through that helmet with his pointed glare at the sorcerer, matching the glowering expression on his father’s face as the Kryptonian also took his place beside the wizard and their two kids.
Fate’s glowing eyes bore down on Y/N, his voice unwavering. “A child or not, the consequences remain. The danger—”
Y/N’s eyes narrowed, his entire body tense as he held CJ protectively against him. His tone, usually layered with sarcasm or lightheartedness even in stressful moments, was now razor-sharp, the edge of it cutting through the air. It was the kind of tone that made everyone freeze, even Batman, who stood stoic but noticeably more alert, his eyes flicking to Y/N as if assessing an emerging threat.
“A child or not?” Y/N echoed, his voice dropping into something deadly quiet. “He’s a kid. And you think berating him, making him feel like he's already damned the timeline to hell is helping? He’s eleven years old, Fate. Eleven. You might not care about that, but I do. And I’ll tell you this right now: you will not make him feel like a walking disaster just because he made a mistake.”
Fate, despite his unearthly power and presence, seemed to register the shift in the atmosphere. He held his ground but didn't move forward, the glowing eyes behind the helm unreadable. “I speak only of the risks—”
“And I heard you,” Y/N interrupted, his voice still steady but with a bite that could cut through steel. “We all heard you. Loud and clear. But let me make one thing perfectly clear to you: if anyone thinks for a second that they can make my son feel like he’s some kind of ticking time bomb, they’ll have to go through me first. I don’t care if you’re wearing the Helm of Nabu, a cape, or a bat on your chest—no one, and I mean no one, gets to treat him like that.”
There was a heavy pause, the weight of Y/N’s words hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break. Even Batman, who rarely showed hesitation or uncertainty, shifted slightly, his eyes flicking toward Superman as if silently communicating to be ready, just in case. Superman’s usually easygoing expression had hardened, though he was watching Y/N with a level of caution he typically reserved for far more volatile situations.
And Conner? His presence was something else entirely. If Y/N’s sharp, cutting words hadn’t been enough to put everyone on edge, Conner’s silent but simmering anger was enough to make the entire room feel ten degrees colder. His voice, when it came, was low—dangerously controlled. “You heard him,” he said, his hand resting protectively on the eleven-year-old’s shoulder. “He made a mistake, but he’s not going to stand here and be chewed out for something he didn’t fully understand. He’s our kid, Fate. Not one of your hosts that has to sit there and listen to you lecture them down.”
CJ looked up, eyes wide and brimming with tears, first at his dad and then at his papa. The anger in Conner’s voice wasn’t something he heard often—not directed like this. It was a quiet kind of anger, a controlled force that was all the more intense for how subdued it was. And that made CJ feel something else entirely: relief. Despite their obvious tense relationship in this timeline, his parents were standing up for him together, even in the face of someone as powerful as Fate.
Some things don't change even with time.
CJ sniffled quietly, his face still pressed into Y/N’s side, but it was clear the boy was taking comfort in the way both his parents stood there, a bit younger than he was used to, but still firm and unyielding. He knew the kind of power Dr. Fate held, knew that his presence alone could silence rooms, but right now, it was Y/N and Conner who were commanding the space.
Zatanna, Wally, Dick, Kaldur, and Artemis stood together, watching with bated breath as the tension in the room thickened. They had all felt a deep, instinctive protectiveness over these three since getting to know them—like an extension of their own makeshift family. But seeing Y/N and Conner, two of their closest friends, united in defense of their children? That was something else entirely. The raw intensity radiating from both men was a force of its own, sharper and more intimidating than any argument they’d ever had with each other. It was like watching two titans—formidable on their own—become unstoppable when their fury was aimed at a common enemy.
Even M’Gann, who had kept her distance from Y/N and the boys, couldn’t tear her eyes away. She crossed her arms, tension still visible in her posture, but the air crackled with something unspoken. Despite her unease, she couldn’t ignore the power shift happening right in front of them. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for what would happen next.
Fate’s eyes glowed brighter, but there was a brief hesitation now, as if weighing the situation. Beneath the room's tension, he could feel it—a subtle but undeniable pulse of magic rising in Y/N, simmering just beneath the surface, like a storm waiting to break. The potential that had long been sensed in him, untapped yet dangerous, now crackled in the air around him. The last thing Fate wanted was to turn someone as powerful as Y/N—given how potent his son’s magic already was—into an adversary or even a rival.
“You misunderstand—”
“No,” Y/N cut in again, sharper this time, his hand tightening around CJ’s shoulder protectively. “You misunderstand. I won’t let you stand there and intimidate my kid, make him feel like he’s already done irreversible damage just because he wanted to see his family. I get it—you’re worried about the timeline. Guess what? So are we. But if you try to guilt him, shame him, or talk to him like a liability again, I promise I will show you just how reckless I can be with my magic.”
It was the threat in Y/N’s voice—delivered in a tone that wasn’t raised, wasn’t shouted, but was filled with so much venom—that made everyone pause. Even Batman, who rarely reacted to emotional outbursts, visibly tensed. Y/N’s presence right now wasn’t just a protective father; it was something else, something primal. A warning.
Fate, still unmoving, regarded Y/N for a long moment, the glowing eyes behind the helm unreadable. Finally, the Lord of Order spoke, though his voice had lost some of its earlier authority, now more measured. “The consequences remain, but I will refrain from further...discussion. For now.”
“You’ll refrain permanently,” Y/N shot back, the edge still there. “I’m not asking.”
Conner’s eyes flicked between Fate and Y/N, his expression still cold but tempered by a quiet pride in the way Y/N had stepped up. He hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected Y/N to go full protective mode in a way that was somehow scarier than his own outbursts. But damn, was it effective.
After another long, tense silence, Fate finally stepped back, his glowing eyes dimming slightly as if in reluctant acceptance. “Very well. But understand this: time cannot be ignored. The longer they remain, the more unstable the timeline becomes.”
“Yeah, we get it,” Conner replied, his voice low but steely. “We’ll fix it. But don’t think for a second that we won’t protect them every step of the way.”
Fate’s gaze lingered on them for a moment longer before he turned away, his cape billowing as he floated back slightly, allowing the tension in the room to ease, if only by a fraction. Batman, still standing with Camden on his shoulder, exchanged a glance with Superman, made a motion for them to intervene now.
Superman cleared his throat softly, stepping forward with a more diplomatic tone. “Alright, let’s all take a breath. We’ve got a situation to handle, and we’re all on the same side here.”
Y/N didn’t respond, his eyes still locked on Fate for another moment before he finally exhaled, the tension in his posture easing as he turned his attention back to CJ, his voice softening instantly as he murmured to his son. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”
CJ sniffled again, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, still clinging tightly to Y/N’s side. “I-I didn’t mean to…”
“I know,” Y/N whispered, pulling him close. “I know you didn’t.”
Conner knelt down beside CJ, his large hand gently resting on the boy’s back. “You’re not in trouble,” he reassured him quietly. “We’ll figure it out together.”
CJ nodded, still visibly upset but calming under the combined presence of his parents.
And as the room began to shift back to a more measured tone, Y/N exchanged a glance with Conner, a silent understanding passing between them. For all their bickering and back-and-forths, they were united in this.
For now, at least, the storm had passed. But the underlying tension remained, and everyone in the room knew one thing for certain: you can poke at Y/N and Conner, but their kids? That was a line you should never cross.
After their little confrontation with Fate, and managing to calm CJ down enough, Y/N and Zatanna along with the eleven-year-old wizard headed off to their study to start doing research on the spell future Y/N created so they could send the kids back home. CJ was more than happy to be getting quality time with his magical father and aunt, completely forgetting his dour mood from before.
The rest of the group split off to the their own quests and whatnots while Batman and Fate stayed behind in the mission room to discuss a bit more. Meanwhile, Conner along with Colin and a giggly Camden who was now hanging off a Superman's shoulder, playing with his cape made their way to the lounge area so the kids could have some breakfast.
As they stepped into the living area, the atmosphere shifted slightly. It was still tense, but there was a quiet comfort that came with being away from the others, especially with the kids now more focused on food than the overwhelming situation they were all thrown into. Colin, his hair tousled and his eyes full of curiosity, plopped himself down at the dining table and immediately began stuffing his face with the nearest food he could find, which happened to be a stack of waffles. Camden, ever the cheerful toddler, giggled uncontrollably as he played with Superman’s cape, his tiny hands tugging at it like it was his new favorite toy.
Conner, however, was lost in his own thoughts. He leaned against the counter, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he watched the kids. Colin’s carefree attitude was a stark contrast to the weight on his own shoulders, and he couldn't help but feel conflicted. It was strange—looking at these kids who were supposed to be his, knowing they came from a future that felt so far removed from his current reality.
Clark, noticing the heavy silence, walked over to the counter where Conner stood. His cape fluttered slightly as Camden continued to swing from it, but the Man of Steel didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he offered Conner a small, knowing smile.
“You seem quieter than usual,” Clark observed, his tone gentle but probing. “What’s on your mind?”
Conner let out a deep sigh, his gaze shifting to Camden, who was still laughing at Superman’s cape antics. “This whole thing... It’s just a lot to take in. I mean, I’ve barely figured out my own life, and now I’ve got three kids from the future showing up, acting like we’re some happy family.”
Clark nodded, his expression understanding. “It’s overwhelming, I’m sure. But they seem to know you—both of you—pretty well. You and Y/N. There’s... a lot of history there, and not just the tension we’ve all seen. There’s more to it, isn’t there?”
Conner stiffened slightly at the mention of Y/N. He wasn’t ready to dive into that just yet, but Clark’s gentle prodding was hard to ignore.
“Yeah,” Conner muttered, his voice tight. “History.”
Clark’s brow furrowed. “You want to talk about it?”
Conner hesitated, his arms uncrossing as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t the type to talk about his feelings, not even with Clark, but something about the situation—the kids, the unexpected future they were facing—made it harder to stay silent.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Conner admitted quietly, his eyes drifting to Camden, who had now taken a seat next to Colin and was trying (unsuccessfully) to eat a waffle without dropping syrup all over himself. “I mean... I had things figured out. M’Gann and I... We were good. Comfortable.”
Clark nodded slowly, letting him speak at his own pace.
“And then Y/N showed up,” Conner continued, his voice almost a whisper now. “Out of nowhere. And everything changed. I didn’t... I didn’t expect to feel anything for him. I thought I had my life planned out, you know? M’Gann and I... we were supposed to be the future. But then he came along and it was just...”
Clark’s gaze softened as he watched Conner wrestle with his thoughts. “Sudden?”
Conner nodded. “Yeah. And confusing. I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t even want to handle it.”
Clark remained quiet for a moment, letting the silence between them settle before he spoke again. “I know what it’s like to have everything you think you know shaken up. Feelings can be... complicated. And sudden, like you said. But that doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”
Clark remained quiet for a moment, letting the silence between them settle before he spoke again. “I know what it’s like to have everything you think you know shaken up. Feelings can be... complicated. And sudden, like you said. But that doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”
He paused, his gaze softening. "You know, when you first came into our lives, it was a shock—especially for me. No one expected it, the way you were discovered, and suddenly becoming a part of my life that I didn't know how to accept. And because of that, I wasn’t... exactly welcoming, was I?" Clark’s voice grew quieter, the regret in his tone unmistakable. "I didn’t handle it well at all. I remember Batman trying to have this talk with me about how I needed to be there for you, cause the transition you were going through was tough, but I didn't want to listen. It made me uncomfortable—angry even—and I let that get in the way of treating you the way you deserved."
Clark’s voice faltered slightly, the weight of those memories heavy. "I distanced myself. I barely talked to you, and when I did, it was cold, indifferent. And I know that hurt you. I can see now how much of a toll that took on you." He looked Conner in the eye, the sincerity in his expression clear.
Conner shifted uncomfortably at the memory, the wound of Clark’s initial indifference still raw even after all these years. His fists clenched slightly as Clark continued.
"And because of that," Clark added gently, "I pushed you away. I made you feel like you weren’t wanted, like you didn’t belong. That’s on me and I was wrong to do that. Now, this whole interesting scenario and being a witness to some of you and Y/N's expressive disagreements, I'm wondering if, in a way, you were doing the same thing to Y/N that I did to you." His tone wasn’t accusatory, but the weight of his words hung between them. "You and I... we’ve come a long way since then, haven’t we? What I’m saying is, sometimes the most unexpected blessings come from the most unexpected places."
Conner’s jaw tightened, his gaze shifting to the table where Colin was still busy devouring his waffles. The kid looked so carefree, so unaffected by the tension in the air.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” Conner admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Being a dad... being with Y/N... It’s all too much.”
As if sensing the weight of the conversation, Colin paused mid-bite and glanced up at his dad and uncle.
Colin smiled, his eyes bright. "Dad, can I have some apple juice?"
Conner blinked, the question catching him off guard. "Uh, yeah. Sure." He turned, grabbing a cup from the cabinet and filling it with the apple juice from the fridge. He handed it to Colin, who took it eagerly.
"Thank you!" Colin chirped, taking a sip.
Conner watched Colin, his eyes narrowing as the boy eagerly drank his juice, his messy dark hair falling into his eyes. The kid was a near replica of Y/N—sharp features, the same mischievous grin, and that glint of playful defiance. But even with all of Y/N’s traits so clearly stamped on his face, Conner could see bits of himself too. In the way Colin held himself, a certain stubbornness, and the unmistakable spark of defiance in his eyes that promised trouble wherever he turned. The thought made him both proud, and a little nervous. It was like looking into a mirror, one that reflected not just his own past but Y/N's influence as well, creating something that was uniquely theirs.
As Conner’s thoughts swirled, Camden toddled over, his tiny feet padding against the floor as he made his way to his father. Without warning, Camden jumped up, grabbing onto Conner's arm with a delighted giggle. Conner caught him easily, his big hand wrapping protectively around his youngest son as Camden snuggled against him, giggling softly. The warmth of the moment momentarily pulled Conner out of his anxious thoughts, grounding him in the simplicity of Camden’s affection. Less than 24 hours and the move was almost instinctive—the way he cradled Camden close, his strong arms wrapping around the small boy like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Clark, standing nearby, observed the scene with a faint smile. The ease with which Conner held Camden, the tenderness in his normally stoic expression—it was a side of him Clark rarely saw. It was a glimpse of something deeper, something real and undeniable. "Well, I wouldn't use the word ready, seeing as you're still young and have a lot to learn, from this point of view, you seem just fine to me," Clark commented softly, his voice filled with pride and reassurance. Conner looked over at his mentor, the weight of his worries momentarily lifting as he realized, despite everything, this—being a father—might not be as overwhelming as it seemed.
Clark’s smile softened, and he straightened himself out from his crouched position over the counter, “No one’s ever ready. But that doesn’t mean you’re not capable of handling it. You’ve always been stronger than you think, Conner. And look at them—” He gestured to Colin and Camden, who were now both completely focused on the plate of food in front of them. “You’ve done something right if these two turned out this way.”
Colin, oblivious to the compliment, wiped syrup from his chin and glanced up again. “Dad, you think too much,” he said plainly, as if stating an obvious fact.
Conner blinked in surprise, and Clark let out a soft laugh. “Out of the mouths of babes.”
Colin, sensing he was being teased, shot a quick glare at his uncle before turning back to his plate. “Papa says the same thing. You’re always thinking and not saying how you feel. Maybe you should try that. Just... you know, say what you’re thinking.”
Conner stared at his son for a moment, the kid’s words sinking in. It wasn’t just a child’s naive observation—it was Y/N’s influence. Y/N had always been the one to push him, to force him to face things he didn’t want to. And now, even through their future children, that push was still there, urging him to stop hiding and start feeling.
“I’ll think about it,” Conner finally said, his voice softer now, more thoughtful.
Colin nodded as if that was enough, shoving another bite of waffle into his mouth.
Clark stood up, giving Conner a knowing look. “That’s all anyone can ask for.”
Conner didn’t reply, but the weight in his chest felt a little lighter. For the first time since the kids had arrived, he didn’t feel completely overwhelmed. It wasn’t easy—nothing ever was when it came to his feelings, especially when Y/N was involved—but maybe, just maybe, he could figure it out.
The kids kept eating, and for the first time that morning, the tension in the air seemed to ease. There were still questions left unanswered, still emotions to sort through, but for now, Conner let himself breathe. Clark’s words, and Colin’s surprisingly wise insight, lingered with him.
Maybe he had been thinking too much. Maybe it was time to start doing.
Conner stood outside the study Zatanna and Y/N used to study and practice their magic, his hand hovering over the knob. He stood frozen just in front of the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob as he listened to the low murmur of voices from inside. His pulse quickened as he took a deep breath, steeling himself. He knew he couldn't avoid Y/N forever, but the thought of facing him, of confronting the mess of emotions swirling in his chest, was almost too much.
It had been a few hours since his conversation with Superman and the advice from his middle son, and already it felt like his courage was slipping away, drowning under the weight of old insults, arguments, and uncertainty. The thought of facing Y/N, of peeling back the layers of resentment they had built up over time, felt like an insurmountable task.
He'd already been by 15 minutes earlier, coming to grab CJ so the kid could also eat before heading back to help his Papa and Aunt with the spell to return them to their original timeline. But something about seeing Y/N, the look he'd been giving him since this morning, made Conner hesitate in returning to the room to talk to him. There was an intensity in Y/N's gaze that rattled him—like the magic user could see right through him, past the facade of indifference, straight into the mess of emotions swirling beneath the surface. It wasn’t a glare, not exactly, but something sharper, more discerning. And it unnerved Conner in a way he wasn't used to.
Anger, frustration—those were familiar. He could work with those. They fueled him, gave him something to push against. But this? This nervous, anxious feeling? That was foreign territory. Normally, when he got anxious, he'd channel it into anger—yelling, snapping, getting into yet another argument with Y/N. But here, standing outside the door, knowing what he needed to do and how he should approach it... it made his stomach churn. Because as much as he hated to admit it, every time he reacted in anger, he realized it only proved Y/N right. And the last thing he wanted to do now was give the smart-ass a reason to smugly say "I told you so" over and over until who knows what end.
He may be irrational at times, but he wasn't dumb. And his pride could only take so much.
No, Conner needed to do this right. But how was he supposed to do that when it felt like his nerves were crawling under his skin, making it impossible to think straight?
He exhaled slowly, trying to steady his nerves. Just as his hand tightened around the knob, ready to push the door open, his superhearing picked that moment to tune in on the conversation happening inside.
"Conner? Attractive?" Y/N’s voice cut through the muffled conversation, a sarcastic edge to his tone. "Yeah, I thought so. Once. You know, back before he treated me like I wasn’t worth his time. I don't understand how this seems funny to only me. How people can just… change their tune overnight. One day, I was just a nobody on the team to him, then when I start treating him the same way, suddenly, it's like I'm the only one on the team—but for all the wrong reasons."
Conner’s heart skipped a beat, his grip tightening on the knob, but he didn’t turn it. Instead, he leaned closer, his superhearing focusing in on the conversation and the harsh but strained sound of Y/N's words.
"Y/N..." Zatanna’s voice came through softly, as if she was trying to comfort him.
"No, seriously," Y/N continued, a bitter laugh escaping him. "You can't not admit how funny and ironic this whole situation is. Me and Conner, together? The universe could not come up with a more hilarious joke."
Conner froze at Y/N's words, his stomach knotting as he strained to hear more. His pulse quickened, the sarcastic bite in Y/N’s tone cutting deeper than he expected. That bitterness, though, the strain in it—that was what really threw him off. It wasn’t just sarcasm for sarcasm’s sake. It was the sound of someone who’d been hurt and was still trying to laugh it off, even when the pain was clearly bleeding through the cracks.
Inside, Zatanna’s voice came through, softer now but insistent, a mix of empathy and reason. “Y/N, come on. You’re not being fair to him—or to yourself. I know Conner wasn’t exactly Mr. Warmth when you first joined, but you gave it right back to him. And you have to admit, a lot of the time, you weren’t just defending yourself.”
Y/N snorted, and Conner could almost see the exasperation on his face. “Oh, really? What would you call it then, Z? I was supposed to just sit back and take it? Let him look through me like I didn’t exist? And then when I finally matched his indifference, suddenly, I'm the bad guy?” His voice grew more animated, like the floodgates of resentment had been opened. “I didn’t ask for any of this! I didn’t ask to feel anything for him. Hell, the attraction I had? I thought it was done the second he made it clear I didn’t matter. But then... now? When I’ve finally learned to put a wall up, he wants to start giving me these long and sad looks like I'm supposed to feel sympathy for him. Zatanna, we'd literally just got sidelined by Bats not even a few hours earlier because me and him could not stop fighting on the mission. Don't think I didn't see all of your tired and annoyed looks while me and him kept screaming at each other."
Conner’s stomach twisted painfully, a knot of guilt and frustration coiling tighter with every word. He wasn't even in the room and he could feel the weight of Y/N’s resentment settling on his chest, like Y/N was saying all of this directly to him, staring him straight in his blue eyes. It felt heavy and suffocating.
Hearing Y/N talk about his walls, about the way he felt forced to build them up—it stung in a way the Kryptonian wasn’t prepared for. He had always thought their arguments, their constant bickering, were just a reflection of their differences, not realizing how deeply he had hurt Y/N in the process.
Of course, this was the moment when he was reminded of Superman's words from before about how he’d treated him in the beginning when Dick, Wally, and Kal broke him out of Cadmus. It just made the sting feel worse, considering Conner knew exactly how Y/N was feeling because his mentor had once made him feel the exact same way, even if their circumstances were a bit different.
And now, to hear that Y/N had once felt something for him—attraction even—only to have it turn into this bitter, sarcastic shield... It made Conner feel like he had been blind to it all, and now he was paying for it, unable to untangle the mess he’d helped create.
Zatanna sighed. “I’m not saying he didn’t screw up, Y/N. We both know Conner can be... complicated, especially with his emotions. But you’re not being honest with yourself either.” Her tone was gentle but firm. “You built that wall out of your own fear too. You’re as stubborn as he is. He pushed you away, and you pushed back just as hard.”
Y/N groaned, clearly growing frustrated with the direction of the conversation. “Look, Z, I’m not saying I’m perfect, alright? But do you blame me? Every time I tried to be decent, I got shut down. Every time I tried to be patient, I got a door slammed in my face. And now—now we’re supposed to pretend like none of that happened? Like the past just doesn’t exist because we’ve got some kids from a future I can’t even picture?” His voice wavered for a moment, a crack in his bravado. “You, him, and everyone else must have a lot of faith in me if you think I want to sign myself up for something like that just because three little boys popped in from the future to tell us our fortunes! And you know what? You really shouldn't, because I don’t want to live in a world where I have to constantly wonder in the back of my mind if I’m worth someone’s time or if they’re suddenly going to change their tune at the drop of a dime because of this, that, and whatever the hell the third might be! I’m not going to live like that. And if that means walking away from all this, then so be it. The kids will get over it. Shoot, they won't even be here to see it!”
Conner’s hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, his knuckles going white as Y/N’s words echoed in his ears. The frustration bubbled up inside him, twisting and coiling into something darker, something harder to control. Y/N’s dismissal of the kids—their kids, his sons—like they were some temporary nuisance, some fleeting inconvenience that would disappear once this whole mess was over, set Conner's blood boiling. He could feel the anger rising in his chest, threatening to burst out in a way that had always felt second nature to him, the way it always had when he and Y/N fought.
But this? This wasn’t just about him anymore. It wasn’t just another fight between him and Y/N where they could trade barbs and insults like it was some kind of sparring match. No. Now it felt personal in a way that cut deeper than all their previous arguments combined. Y/N wasn’t just throwing him under the bus with his biting words and sarcastic remarks—he was dismissing the future that their kids came from, the life that, according to CJ, Colin, and Camden, they were supposed to build together. Y/N wasn’t just rejecting him. He was rejecting all of it—the family, the possibility, the kids—and that hurt worse than anything Conner had ever felt before.
He couldn’t tell if the anger in his chest was fueled more by his own pain or by the thought of the kids overhearing something like this. What would Colin think if he knew Y/N felt this way? The kid who loved his parents more than anyone. Or Camden? Did Y/N consider for one second how CJ would feel, knowing that boy practically looks up to and tries to follow every step his Papa takes? This would absolutely destroy all three of them, especially the oldest one. The thought of Y/N throwing them aside like a passing inconvenience tore at him, and Conner had to fight every instinct and nerve in his body telling him to march into that room and turn the whole conversation into an all-out brawl.
Inside, Zatanna’s voice softened, but there was a slight edge to it now, the first sign of her patience wearing thin. "Y/N... that's not fair to the kids and you know it. You already told me how CJ talked to you last night and how terrified he is of him and his brothers interfering. You know this will only break him. He, Colin, and Camden practically worship the ground you and Conner walk on. They didn’t ask for this any more than you did. And you’re right, you didn’t sign up for this, but you can’t just treat them like they're some temporary burden. They're your family too, no matter how far in the future it may be. You see how CJ looks up to you, how protective Colin already is of not just his brothers but his parents as well. A trait I'm sure he more than gets from his father. They’re real, Y/N, and they’re here. You can't just wish them away because you're scared of what this means for you and Conner."
There was a beat of silence, and Conner could almost imagine Y/N gritting his teeth, wrestling with the emotions he so desperately tried to hide behind sarcasm and bravado.
"Yeah, well, I didn’t ask to have my life turned upside down, Zatanna," Y/N shot back, his voice cracking just enough to betray the vulnerability underneath. "I didn’t ask for kids to show up and tell me I’m supposed to end up with someone who can’t stand me half the time! I didn’t ask to be put in a position where the second I feel like I can breathe, I’m right back at square one wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do now."
Conner felt like he was suffocating, standing there just outside the door, torn between barging in and finally letting all the anger and hurt pour out or walking away before he said or did something that couldn’t be taken back. His heart hammered in his chest, the fury building alongside the urge to just smash something, anything, to release the pressure that was pushing down on him. But he couldn’t. Not like this.
Zatanna sighed heavily, the sound filled with both exasperation and empathy. "I get it, Y/N. I do. This situation isn’t fair to you. It’s a lot. And I don’t envy the position you’re in. But pushing Conner and the kids away isn’t the answer. You’re scared, and I get that too, but don’t let fear make decisions for you. You care about them—I know you do, even if you won’t admit it. And maybe—just maybe—you need to stop fighting against this so hard and try to see it from Conner’s side. You might find that you’re not as alone in this as you think."
Y/N let out a bitter chuckle. "Alone? You think I’m not alone? Have you seen how we’ve been? Every time I try to meet him halfway, I get shut down. Every single time. I’m done fighting for something that’s never going to work. He’s made that clear. Hell, if it weren’t for the kids being here, I wouldn’t even be considering any of this! Tell me, Z, in what world do you see me and Conner—two people who are always at each other's throats—sharing a bed for absolutely no reason at all. I'm surprised nothing in my room was broken or destroyed by the time the sun came up."
Conner’s jaw tightened. So that’s it, huh? The only reason Y/N was even still in this mess was because of the kids. That was the line. That was the breaking point. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, the frustration turning to anger, sharp and hot. His vision blurred at the edges as he fought the overwhelming urge to kick the door down, to confront Y/N and make him understand how wrong he was.
But what would that solve? Another fight? Another shouting match that would just end with more resentment and more unresolved tension between them? He couldn’t do that again. Not now. Not after hearing everything Y/N had just said.
But walking away wasn’t an option either.
Zatanna’s voice softened again, but there was a weariness in it now. "Y/N, I get it. You're angry, you're hurt. But saying things like that—about the kids, about their future—it’s not fair to them or to yourself. You’re scared of getting hurt again, but pushing everyone away isn’t going to protect you. It’s just going to make things worse."
Y/N didn’t respond immediately, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence on the other side of the door. Conner’s heart pounded in his ears, the conflicting emotions swirling inside him like a storm. Part of him wanted to scream, to let Y/N know exactly how wrong he was. But another part of him—the part that had heard the hurt in Y/N’s voice, the vulnerability behind the sarcasm—wanted to do something else entirely. Something that scared him just as much.
Before Conner could make a decision, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. He turned just in time to see Wally, Dick, and Artemis heading toward him. Wally raised an eyebrow, his eyes darting between Conner and the closed door. "Uh... everything okay, man?"
Conner stiffened, his fists still clenched. "I... it’s fine."
Dick frowned, clearly unconvinced. "We need you in the mission room. Batman just got a hit on something. It’s big."
Artemis glanced toward the study door, her sharp eyes catching the tension in Conner’s stance. She gave him a knowing look before she stepped forward. "I’ll go get Y/N and Zatanna."
Conner wanted to protest, wanted to stop her, but he couldn’t find the words. Before he knew it, Artemis had already knocked and entered the room, leaving him standing there with his heart still racing and his mind still tangled in a web of conflicting emotions.
A moment later, Y/N emerged, his eyes immediately finding Conner's like a magnet. There was a flash of something in his expression, but it was gone before Conner could even begin to decipher it. Y/N brushed past him without a word, his shoulders tense and his jaw set.
Conner watched him go, the anger and frustration still simmering beneath the surface. And as they turned to leave for the mission room, the Kryptonian couldn’t help but glance toward Y/N in front of him, his retreating back a stark reminder of the distance between them. His anger hadn’t faded—it still simmered just beneath the surface—but there was something else now too. Something he couldn’t quite name. Something that made it impossible to walk away, no matter how much he wanted to.
And that scared him more than anything.
Batman’s gaze remained locked on the multiple video feeds displayed across the console, his usual stoic expression growing more grim by the second. "Late yesterday, our computers picked up on a surge of interesting reports," he began. "People reporting their cars stolen or missing, wild animal sightings, and sudden changes in temperature. At first, we thought they were isolated and random events. But we kept an eye on them just in case it turned out to be more."
Kaldur, ever the attentive listener, leaned in slightly. "They turned out to be more?"
"Much more," Batman responded, his fingers swiftly typing across the console to pull up a series of chaotic images and videos from Boston. The entire team turned to face the screens as footage of cars, objects, and even large pieces of buildings being torn apart and flung into the air played on the screen. More clips followed—animals that clearly weren’t native to the area running rampant through the streets, attacking anything in sight. The streets themselves seemed warped, as parks and intersections were transformed into different ecosystems—a tundra, a jungle, and even a volcanic landscape, each more out of place than the last.
"A small number of the Justice League was deployed early this morning to respond to these incidents," Batman continued, pulling up a map showing the spread of the chaos. "But the situation has only escalated. The environments are not only unstable, they’re... evolving. What started as small, localized disruptions has grown into widespread chaos. And they’re intensifying by the hour."
Artemis crossed her arms, her brow furrowed. "How bad are we talking?"
"Bad," Batman said, turning to face the team fully. "I believe the warning we received from Doctor Fate had more merit to it than we hoped." The mention of Fate caused a ripple of tension through the room. "He believes we’re dealing with an ancient magical anomaly, something that hasn't been seen in centuries, and that these chaotic events are due to the arrival of our... special guests." His eyes flicked briefly toward CJ, Colin, and Camden.
The kids stiffened at the mention, exchanging glances.
"Wait... you’re saying this is because of us?" Colin asked, his tone tinged with both confusion and worry.
Batman’s response was direct. "Yes. The random reports and strange events started just last night. We weren't aware at the time, but the beginning of these events coincides with the time you three arrived." His voice didn’t carry accusation, just facts. But the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.
CJ’s expression remained strangely neutral, though Y/N noticed something in his son’s eyes—something like understanding, but not the kind of fear or confusion he would expect. Y/N’s gaze lingered on CJ for a moment, but he didn’t say anything.
"So, what do we do?" Conner asked, his expression hardening.
Y/N's eyes flicked to Conner, catching the hard edge in his voice, the tension unmistakable. It wasn’t just the situation weighing on him; there was something deeper, something personal brewing beneath the surface. And Y/N wasn’t the only one who noticed. Colin's gaze dropped, his usual mischievous energy dulled as the weight of responsibility settled on his young shoulders. CJ, however, remained quiet, still unreadable, though Y/N could feel the tension radiating from him like a coiled spring.
Batman didn’t miss the shift either. His voice remained calm, but there was an urgency to it now. "We need to stabilize the situation in Boston before it spreads. Many members of the Justice League haven’t reported back, and their silence is concerning. The biggest problem, though, isn't just the animals or the environmental disruptions." He pressed a button on the console, and the screen shifted to show a massive tear in the sky over Boston. A swirling, violent rift of dark energy hovered ominously above the city, crackling with magic. "A magical rift has opened, centered over Boston. That rift is the source of the anomalies."
The team stared at the image, eyes wide. The rift pulsed with a dark energy that made the hair on the back of Y/N’s neck stand on end just by looking at it.
"The entire Justice League was sent out to respond," Batman explained, "but we haven’t heard back from them for some time. There’s been radio silence from their end for the last thirty minutes."
"That’s not good," Dick muttered under his breath.
"No, it isn’t," Batman agreed. "I'm sending you all there immediately to investigate and intervene. But..." He turned his gaze to Y/N. "Zatanna will stay behind to continue working on the spell with CJ’s assistance. I believe sending them back home to their timeline may be the only way to stop these anomalies for good."
CJ’s expression remained passive, though Y/N noticed the way Colin stiffened at the mention of going home, his eyes wide and filled with guilt.
"We don’t want to mess things up," Colin whispered, his voice tight.
Y/N placed a hand on Colin’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, this isn’t your fault, Colt. We’re gonna fix this."
Colin’s worried expression softened as a small smile crept across his face, and next to him, CJ’s lips curled into a matching grin. They exchanged a quick look before turning back to their father, the tension from a moment ago fading slightly. Y/N caught the change in their demeanor, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"What are you two smiling about?" he asked, his voice gentle but curious. Colin glanced at CJ before looking up at Y/N. "You called me 'Colt,'" he said, his grin widening. "That’s the nickname we came up with in the future. You always call me that." CJ nodded in agreement, his own smile reflecting the same fondness.
Y/N blinked at the revelation, a strange warmth spreading through his chest at the thought that, in some future timeline, he and Colin had this kind of bond. It felt oddly natural, like he was slipping into a role he hadn’t quite realized he was ready for. Colin and CJ were still smiling, their expressions lighter, and for a brief moment, Y/N let himself feel the weight of their affection. It was... nice, for a brief moment.
He opened his mouth to say something—maybe a teasing remark about how he should’ve guessed the kids would come up with such a cool nickname—but the seriousness of the situation quickly pulled him back. They were still in the midst of chaos, after all. His gaze shifted to the rest of the team, and that familiar, nervous tension returned to his gut.
Before Y/N could say anything further, Batman's voice sliced through the air, firm and commanding. "Alright, we can’t waste any more time," he said, cutting off any brewing conversations or potential arguments. "You'll be split into two teams based on your abilities. Here’s how this will work."
The room fell silent, everyone turning their attention to him. "Aqualad," Batman continued, locking his eyes on the Atlantean, "you’ll lead the first team to handle ground operations along with Superboy, Kid Flash, and Artemis. Your focus is handling the anomalies, managing the chaos, and protecting civilians. Also, locate any League members and assist them as needed. Keep them safe and minimize further damage. Use whatever resources you need."
The room remained tense as Batman continued, his gaze shifting toward Y/N. "Y/N, you’ll lead the second team with Robin and Miss Martian. Your task is to deal with the rift directly. It’s magical in nature, and based on what we know, you’re the only one with the necessary skills to close it. Miss Martian will assist with psychic communication, and Robin will handle any technical or tactical complications."
Y/N nodded, his expression serious. "Got it."
Before Y/N or anyone else could move, Conner’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and unyielding. "No way. Y/N, you’re staying here with the kids."
Y/N blinked, standing up from where he knelt beside Colin, his brows knitting together. "Excuse me?"
Conner crossed his arms, his expression firm and unwavering. "You’re not going to Boston. You’re staying here."
Around them, the tension in the room skyrocketed. Zatanna and Artemis exchanged uneasy glances, while Wally shifted on his feet, clearly bracing himself. Everyone knew what was coming; the team instinctively prepared for another explosive clash.
Y/N narrowed his eyes, frustration building in his chest. "And why exactly would I stay behind when I’m one of the only people here who understands how to deal with magical threats?"
"Because I’m not letting you get caught in the middle of this while our kids are here!" Conner snapped, his voice rising.
Y/N’s jaw clenched. "I’m not some helpless bystander, Conner. I can handle myself, and right now, the rift is the priority."
"The kids are the priority!" Conner shot back, his eyes blazing. "I’m not letting you go out there and risk your life when our sons are—"
"Enough." Batman’s voice cut through the argument like a knife, sharp and commanding. He stepped between the two of them, his gaze stern. "Y/N is the only one who might be able to close the rift. His magic is directly tied to the arrival of CJ, Colin, and Camden. If the rift was caused by their presence here, then Y/N’s magic may be the only thing capable of closing it."
Conner glared at Batman, his fists clenched tight enough that his knuckles turned white. "Then I'm going with him."
Batman didn't flinch. His tone was calm but firm, the kind of authority that couldn’t be ignored. "No, you're not. You're needed on the ground, dealing with the environmental and animal threats. This is a magical anomaly, and the team needs someone with the expertise to handle that. That's Y/N."
"I'm not letting him go alone," Conner growled, taking a step forward as if challenging the decision.
Batman’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a dangerously low register. "You're not the one who makes that decision, Conner. And Y/N won’t be alone. Robin and Miss Martian will be with him, along with any League members still on the scene. They'll ensure he has the support he needs."
Before Conner could respond, CJ stepped forward, tugging at his dad's arm. "Dad, it’s okay," he said, his voice steady in a way that was unnerving for a kid his age. "Papa's strong. He'll be fine. He’s got this." CJ’s quiet confidence washed over Conner like a calming wave, his blue eyes—so much like Conner’s own—looking up at him with unwavering trust.
Y/N noticed the subtle exchange, his gaze lingering on CJ. Something in the boy’s demeanor, that calm assurance, struck Y/N once again. But he held back from saying anything, choosing instead to focus on the task at hand. Conner, for his part, let out a deep breath, his posture softening slightly, though the tension in his shoulders remained.
Before anyone could take a step forward, a small voice broke through the tense silence. "Papa... Daddy..." Camden’s soft, trembling voice wavered as he looked between Y/N and Conner, his tiny hands clutching the hem of his father’s shirt. His wide eyes brimmed with tears, lip quivering as the realization settled in—both his parents were leaving. "No go," he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. "Stay wif me. No go."
Y/N immediately knelt down beside his youngest, his heart twisting at the sight of Camden’s tears. He reached out, gently cupping the little boy's cheek. "Hey, hey, it’s okay, Cam. Papa’s not going anywhere forever. We’re just going to fix the big problem, and then we’ll come right back. Okay?"
But Camden wasn’t having it. His small hands reached out, grabbing onto Y/N’s shirt as if to anchor him in place. "Noooo, Papa! No go! Stay wif Cam!" The words came out in hiccuping sobs, and before Y/N could even respond, Conner had already knelt down beside them.
"It’s okay, bud," Conner murmured, his voice softer than anyone had heard it in a while. He gently lifted Camden into his arms, holding him close against his chest. "We’ll both be back before you know it. Aunt Zatanna’s gonna take care of you while we’re gone, alright? You’ll be safe."
Camden buried his face in Conner’s neck, his tiny body shaking with sobs. "Nooo... wanna stay wif Daddy... Papa..." His babbles were barely coherent now, muffled by Conner’s shirt as his small fists clung to him.
Y/N’s chest tightened at the sight of Camden’s tears, the sound of his son’s soft sobs tugging at his heart in a way nothing else could. But he forced a reassuring smile, placing a hand on Camden’s back. "We’ll be back really soon, okay, Camden? Aunt Z can show you some new magic tricks while we’re gone. How does that sound?"
Zatanna stepped forward, her expression soft and understanding. She held out her arms toward Camden, her tone gentle as she addressed him. "Hey there, big guy. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit? We’ll have fun, I promise."
After a few more moments of coaxing from both his parents, Camden finally loosened his grip, his tear-streaked face still buried against Conner's shoulder. Slowly, hesitantly, Conner passed him over to Zatanna, though the little boy still whimpered softly as she took him into her arms. "You’ll be okay, Cam," Conner whispered, brushing a hand through Camden’s dark hair before stepping back.
Y/N couldn’t help but watch the way Conner handled Camden, the tenderness in his touch, the quiet murmurs of reassurance, so different from the fire and stubbornness that had flared just moments ago. It was strange—how easily Conner shifted from the abrasive, hot-headed fighter to the soft-spoken, caring father. And despite all the chaos, despite the argument they’d nearly launched into, Y/N felt a tug of something deep in his chest. Fatherhood, it seemed, suited Conner more than Y/N would have expected. The Kryptonian’s natural protectiveness extended beyond just brute force; it was in the way he held Camden close, the way he whispered calm reassurances, like every word was meant to soothe the little boy’s fears. For a moment, Y/N almost forgot about the mission ahead.
He shook the thought away as Zatanna cradled Camden in her arms, the young boy finally quieting down, his hiccups slowing as Zatanna whispered softly to him. "I’ll keep an eye on them," she said to Y/N and Conner, her voice steady. "They’ll be safe here. Focus on what you need to do."
Y/N nodded, giving her a grateful look. "Thanks, Z." He turned to CJ and Colin, offering them a reassuring smile. "You two behave, alright? Help Aunt Z as much as you can."
CJ gave a small nod, his usual calm demeanor still present, though Y/N noticed the subtle determination in his expression. Colin, on the other hand, tried to put on a brave face, but Y/N could see the worry flickering in his eyes. "We’ll be okay," Colin said, though his voice wavered slightly. "Just... come back quick, okay?"
"Promise," Y/N replied softly, ruffling Colin’s hair before stepping back. He exchanged a final glance with Conner, their earlier tension still simmering beneath the surface, but now there was something unspoken between them—an understanding, however fragile, that they would both fight for their kids, for each other, even if they didn’t always agree.
Batman’s voice broke the moment, pulling them back to the task at hand. "Time to move. We’ve already lost too much time."
With a final look at his family, Y/N squared his shoulders and turned toward the zeta tube, the familiar swirl of light surrounding him as he prepared to confront the chaos in Boston.
The mission was a disaster before it even started.
The moment they arrived on the scene, it was like stepping into a nightmare—or worse, a magical hurricane on steroids. Boston wasn’t just in chaos; it was in pieces. Buildings hovered mid-air, entire streets warped into bizarre, shifting landscapes, and what looked like glowing neon vines were spreading across the city like it had been chosen as the set for an apocalyptic rave.
The team didn’t even have time to blink before they were hit with a wave of magical energy, the force of it sending shivers down their spines. Y/N, standing at the forefront, felt the familiar buzz of magic, but this was different. Wild. Unhinged. It was like a thousand magical threads all pulling in different directions, completely untethered. He could sense the power surging through the air, crackling with energy that had no business being there.
“What the hell is this?” Kid Flash muttered, staring at a car that was literally floating by like a balloon.
"Language," Robin chimed in, though he was just as unnerved.
Kid Flash shot Robin an unimpressed look. “Really? Now you’re pulling that?”
Robin gave a sheepish shrug, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, force of habit. The kids, you know?"
Conner scanned the area, his jaw clenched. "This isn't just magic. It’s chaos."
Y/N grimaced, eyes narrowing. "It’s more than that. The magic from the rift is spiraling out of control and destabilizing everything. Warping reality all around us.”
"Three kids caused all of this?" Artemis asked, incredulous.
"Well, technically, they haven't been born yet," Kid Flash pointed out. "So, yep, sounds about right."
As they moved deeper into the city, it became clear that nothing was untouched by the rift. People ran through the streets, some of them glowing as if they'd been hit with magical radiation, others transforming into strange, otherworldly creatures. One moment, a guy sprinted past them, looking normal enough—until he sprouted wings and took off into the sky like it was a completely rational thing to do on a Tuesday morning.
“Is that dude... part bird now?” Kid Flash asked, not even bothering to mask the disbelief in his voice.
Y/N watched with a mix of panic and fascination. “Yeah, it looks like it. That’s the kind of magical chaos we’re dealing with. Try to keep up.”
The air crackled again, and with each step closer to the rift, the environment shifted more dramatically. It wasn’t just the people being affected—entire blocks were freezing over in seconds, only to melt and turn into jungles or deserts moments later. One building seemed to be trapped in time, flickering between its current state and what looked like a medieval fortress.
It was like reality itself had been thrown into a blender, and someone had hit the highest speed setting.
Aqualad’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and focused. “We need to split up now! Artemis, Kid Flash, Superboy—fan out. We need to get people to safety and keep a lookout for any members of the Justice League. Y/N, Robin, Miss Martian—head for the rift. We’ll cover your flank.”
Superboy hesitated, his gaze lingering on Y/N as he nodded. There was something in Conner’s eyes—concern, frustration, maybe both—but Y/N couldn’t focus on that right now. He had his task, and the last thing he needed was to get distracted by Conner’s protective streak. Conner opened his mouth, like he was about to say something, but Y/N gave him a quick, determined nod before heading off toward the rift with Robin and Miss Martian in tow.
The team split off, each group moving with purpose through the chaotic cityscape. Superboy’s fists clenched as he watched Y/N disappear into the swirling madness ahead. "Be careful," he muttered under his breath, though Y/N was already too far to hear it.
As Aqualad led the others into the thick of the chaos, they dodged bursts of energy and tried to maintain a safe path for the civilians. Kid Flash darted from person to person, grabbing anyone who looked even remotely human and speeding them to the nearest shelter that wasn’t floating or shifting between realities. “Dude, this is like a magical acid trip gone wrong,” he muttered, dodging a glowing tree root that suddenly shot out from the ground.
“Stay focused, Kid,” Aqualad called over his shoulder. “We need to find the rest of the Justice League.”
Artemis fired a volley of arrows, knocking aside a swarm of neon-colored birds that were swooping down toward the civilians. As she reloaded, she glanced over at Superboy, who was busy punching a giant, glowing slug-like creature into the pavement. She watched as he ripped a car door off with far more force than necessary, letting the terrified people inside scramble out. "Hey, Supey, you doing okay?"
Superboy grunted, his fists clenching as the creature writhed beneath him. "Fine."
But he wasn't fine. Not even close. Every punch he threw was fueled by more than just the chaos around them. It was the gnawing worry at the back of his mind—twisting tighter with each passing second. The rift, the magic, Y/N out there somewhere—too close to the danger, too exposed. And then there was the conversation he'd overheard earlier, still simmering beneath the surface like a hot ember he couldn’t put out. Every word Y/N had said, the sarcasm and bitterness, how he had basically dismissed everything that had happened like it was nothing, felt like salt in an open wound.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen, and the thought of being away from Y/N while he faced that rift felt like trying to fight with one arm tied behind his back. Worse, part of him was still angry—angry at Y/N for throwing up those walls, for acting like none of it mattered. But what made it worse was that Conner couldn’t tell if he was more furious at Y/N or at himself for not realizing how deep those scars ran.
His anger and worry mixed into a volatile blend, and every punch, every kick was a release he desperately needed. But none of it made him feel better.
"You sure?" Artemis pressed, her tone cautious as she loosed another arrow. "Because you seem a little tense."
"I'm fine," Superboy repeated, though his jaw tightened with each word, his voice a little more clipped than before. He slammed the slug creature into the ground again, more aggressively than necessary, trying to focus on the task at hand. But no matter how hard he hit, it didn’t stop the weight pressing on his chest—the same weight that had settled in the moment Y/N disappeared into the chaos.
Conner just wanted to get this over with, to punch his way through every problem and make sure Y/N was okay. But magic wasn’t something he could punch. And that made him feel powerless. Useless.
"Uh-huh." Artemis wasn’t convinced, but she knew better than to push him when he was like this. She pulled back another arrow, this time aiming for a cluster of glowing tentacles slithering toward a nearby building. But she could see the tension in Conner’s stance—the way his fists stayed clenched even when there was nothing left to hit. He wasn’t fine. He was worried.
Meanwhile, Y/N’s team moved swiftly, the eerie glow of the rift growing stronger with every step. The air was thick with magic, the kind that sent chills up Y/N’s spine. He could feel it as they got closer—something ancient, powerful, and very, very angry. The energy was wild, and the closer they got, the more erratic it became. Sparks of light crackled in the air, and the ground beneath them shifted as if reality itself was struggling to hold together.
“We’re close,” Robin said, his eyes scanning the distorted environment with a mixture of curiosity and unease. “But, is it just me, or does something feel really off? It feels like…”
“Like we’re being watched,” Miss Martian finished, her voice steady but tense. She hovered a little higher, her green skin glowing faintly as she reached out with her mind, trying to get a sense of what was ahead. But she quickly pulled back. “There’s something... someone near the rift. I can’t tell who, but their presence is overwhelming.”
Y/N's heart raced as the sensation grew stronger. He felt the energy around him tightening, like a binding rope or python trying to squeeze him. “Whoever—or whatever—it is, they’re using the magical energy from the rift to fuel themselves. We need to be ready for anything.”
He could feel his own magic stirring, a rush of energy he didn't recognize but still somehow felt humming through his veins. It was a strange sensation, like a muscle flexing, preparing for a fight. His fingers tingled, and the air around him seemed to shimmer, almost imperceptibly.
"I can feel it," Y/N murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "The energy. It's... it's like nothing I've ever felt before."
Robin frowned, his eyes darting around the area. "That's not good, is it?"
"Nope, probably not," Y/N answered.
The closer they got to the rift, the more oppressive the energy became, like walking through thick, suffocating fog. The sky above them was torn open, swirling with dark, crackling energy, but it wasn’t just the rift that was the problem anymore. The presence Miss Martian had sensed—it was stronger now, looming over them like a shadow just out of reach.
As they approached the clearing near the rift, the ground shifted again, this time pulling away as if something massive was displacing the air itself. The sky above them darkened, the swirling mass of the rift glowing with an intense, unnatural light. And that’s when they saw him.
Y/N’s breath hitched as a figure began to emerge from the rift, hovering above the ground. At first, it was just an outline, a silhouette against the chaotic sky, but as the glow of the rift illuminated it, their worst fears were realized. Cloaked in dark, swirling magic, Superman floated in the air, his eyes glowing an unnatural, eerie green.
Something was wrong—terribly wrong. His normally calm and composed face was twisted in a snarl, his eyes glowing with that eerie, unnatural glow. Tendrils of dark energy spiraled around him, almost like chains, binding him to the rift.
Y/N’s breath hitched. “Oh no...”
Superman’s gaze locked onto them, but it wasn’t the familiar gaze of the Man of Steel. It was something else—something darker. And then, as if pulled by some unseen force, Superman’s attention shifted directly to Y/N.
Without warning, he shot toward them like a bullet, fists clenched, eyes blazing with magical energy. Y/N barely had time to react, throwing up a protective shield just as Superman’s fist collided with it, sending shockwaves rippling through the air. The force of the impact knocked Y/N back, his shield flickering as he struggled to hold it in place.
“Uh, guys. I think something's wrong with Superman,” Robin yelled, eyes wide with shock.
"Oh really, you think so?" Y/N shouted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I couldn't tell!"
Miss Martian, her eyes glowing white, tried to reach out to Superman, hoping to break through the haze of magic. But, the moment she touched his mind, she recoiled, her expression pained. "It's like his mind is screaming. I can't get through."
Y/N gritted his teeth, his hands shaking as he held up the shield.
“Y/N, can you—?”
“Working on it!” Y/N grunted, his magic straining against the overwhelming power of Superman’s attack. He could feel the dark energy coiling around Superman, like some kind of dark spirit or entity was latched onto him, controlling him. And worse—it looked like it was focused solely on the young magic user.
The rift above them pulsed violently, feeding the entity’s strength as it drove Superman forward again, his fists glowing with that same dark energy. Y/N braced himself, sweat trickling down his forehead as he prepared for another onslaught.
But, before Superman could strike, a blur of black and red shot past, tackling him mid-air with an angry shout.
Superboy.
The half-Kryptonian slammed into Superman, the force of his impact sending both Kryptonians crashing into a nearby building. The structure shook, but thankfully it held. Superman barely seemed fazed, his glowing eyes snapping toward Superboy as he regained his balance mid-air. The tendrils of dark energy flickered around him like an agitated beast, coiling tighter as if preparing for another assault.
Superboy landed in front of Y/N, fists clenched, his breathing heavy. His jaw tightened, his gaze locked on Superman, who was hovering ominously above them. "Stay behind me."
He didn’t even flinch as Superman’s eyes narrowed, a fresh wave of dark energy coiling around him. But Y/N was already bristling, his frustration bubbling over. “Are you insane?!” Y/N snapped, scrambling back to his feet, his eyes flashing with anger. “Do you know what you just did?”
Superboy didn’t tear his gaze away from Superman, his muscles coiled like springs ready to launch again. “Yeah, I saved your behind.”
“No, you didn’t!” Y/N’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp with anger and panic. “You’re supposed to be with Aqualad, helping the others! Not throwing yourself into a fight you cannot win. Superman’s juiced up with magic, Conner—he’s stronger than ever. You’ll get yourself killed!”
Superboy’s eyes flared, his own frustration boiling over. “And what, I’m supposed to just stand by and let you handle this alone? I’m not leaving you out here to face him by yourself!”
“I’m the one who can actually deal with this!” Y/N snapped, his fists clenched in frustration. “You’re only making it harder! I swear, you pull this stunt every time.”
“What, care about you?” Superboy shot back, his voice strained with a mix of anger and desperation.
“No, you put yourself in danger because you think you have to protect me,” Y/N hissed, his eyes flashing with fury. “Like I can’t handle it.”
“Well, maybe if you weren’t so reckless and actually stayed at the Cave like I told you, we wouldn’t even be in this mess!” Superboy countered, his jaw tightening as his temper flared.
“Who do you think you are?” Y/N scoffed, his frustration peaking. “And I’m not the one who just launched myself at a possessed Superman. You do realize that’s the textbook definition of reckless, right?”
Superboy’s growl deepened, his fists clenched so tight they trembled. He stepped closer to Y/N, frustration etched in every line of his face.
“If you two lovebirds are done, we’ve got bigger problems,” Robin cut in sharply, his voice tinged with urgency.
Y/N and Superboy froze mid-argument, their eyes snapping up toward Robin. Whatever anger had bubbled between them fizzled away as they realized what he was pointing to.
Superman hovered menacingly above them, his eyes glowing an even more vivid, unnatural green. Tendrils of dark energy coiled around his body like a living shadow, pulsing with an eerie power. His once-familiar face was a mask of pure malice, the heroic expression they knew replaced with something far more dangerous—predatory. His gaze locked onto them with a chilling intensity, his posture tense, ready to strike.
“Focus, guys,” Miss Martian urged, her voice tight as she floated beside them. “He’s about to attack.”
Superboy’s jaw tightened, and Y/N’s heart raced. Whatever had taken hold of Superman wasn’t letting go, and it had them squarely in its sights.
Back at the Cave, the quiet hum of the lights overhead was the only sound filling the air as Zatanna sat with CJ and Colin, keeping a watchful eye on the youngest Kent. Camden was currently asleep on one of the couches in her and Y/N’s study, wrapped in a blanket. It had taken some time to calm him down, especially since he had gotten more antsy after not being able to see Conner and Y/N before they left, but CJ had been a big help.
Speaking of CJ, Zatanna, ever perceptive, had noticed the strange and quiet behavior from the oldest Kent, something that Y/N had picked up on as well before they left for Boston. Y/N had even reached out through their magical connection, asking her to check on CJ and make sure everything was okay. There was something about the way he acted—like he knew something the rest of them didn’t.
“CJ, is there something on your mind?” Zatanna’s voice was soft, coaxing without pressuring.
CJ, sitting beside her, barely glanced up from his phone, his expression guarded and unreadable. “What do you mean?”
Zatanna offered him a kind smile. “You’ve been pretty quiet since the others left. Is everything alright?”
He hesitated, a flicker of conflict crossing his face before he sighed softly. “I’m fine. Just... worried about Dad and Papa.”
Zatanna watched CJ closely, noting the way his eyes flickered with something she couldn’t quite place—hesitation, maybe. There was something more behind the boy’s silence than just the usual concern for his parents.
"Your fathers are strong, you know that, right?" Zatanna offered with a warm smile, hoping to ease whatever tension was weighing him down. "Whatever they're facing, they’ve got each other and the team to back them up."
CJ nodded, but it was clear her words weren’t doing much to lift the cloud hanging over him. His fingers drummed lightly against his phone, his eyes distant. "I know they’re strong. I'm not really worried about that," he muttered.
Zatanna leaned forward slightly, her brow furrowed. "Then what are you worried about, CJ?" Her tone softened further, sensing there was something deeper at play. "You’re holding something back, I can tell. If you’re worried about more than just the fight, you can talk to me. I’ll keep it between us."
CJ glanced at Colin, who had been quietly sitting cross-legged on the floor. The younger boy looked equally conflicted, like he knew exactly what CJ was thinking but wasn’t sure how to express it. After what felt like forever, CJ sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not the fight. Not really."
Zatanna waited patiently, giving him the space to continue.
"It’s just... the green lady," CJ said, his tone carrying more weight than she expected. "I don’t trust her. Neither of us do."
"The green lady?" Zatanna’s confusion was brief before realization dawned. "You mean M’Gann?"
Zatanna’s mind raced as she connected the dots. She had noticed it too—the way the boys interacted so easily with most of the team. They had a natural rhythm and rapport with nearly everyone, treating them like family. To them, everyone was either an Aunt or Uncle. They were always joking with Dick and Wally, learning fighting moves from Kaldur, and laughing at Artemis’ stories. Even their comfort around Superman and, surprisingly, Batman had caught Zatanna's attention. They had slipped into these relationships as if it was second nature.
But with M’Gann, it had been different. The boys were distant, almost cold, and while M’Gann wasn’t unfriendly, she too seemed hesitant. Zatanna had chalked it up to natural awkwardness, considering their sudden appearance, but now, hearing CJ refer to her as "the green lady" in such a cold tone, it was clear something deeper was going on.
"I’ve noticed you two keep your distance from her," Zatanna said carefully, studying both CJ and Colin’s faces. "And... she tries to get close, but there’s always some wall. Do you mind telling me why?"
CJ glanced at Colin again, and this time, it was Colin who spoke, his voice soft but steady. "She’s... different where we’re from. Really different."
Zatanna raised an eyebrow slightly. "Different how?"
CJ shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze dropping to his hands. "She... doesn’t like us much. Not really. She doesn’t like the idea of Dad and Papa together, and she’s—" He hesitated, clearly trying to find the right words without revealing too much.
"She tries to keep them apart," Colin finished quietly, his eyes trained on the floor. "She says things, does things... to make them fight sometimes. We’ve seen it."
Zatanna frowned, her heart aching at the weight these boys were carrying. She leaned in a little closer, her voice gentle but firm. "That sounds... complicated. But remember, this is a different timeline. People here aren’t the same as the ones you know. You’ve seen that, right?"
Colin nodded, but his eyes remained downcast. "We don’t mean to be mean, but she’s very different from the one we know with our parents. We’ve tried to find ways to tell Dad and Papa... but we don’t know how. Every time we try, something stops us. It feels like something is stopping us from interfering, and I don’t know how to make them see what we see." His voice cracked slightly, and he glanced at CJ for support.
CJ picked up where his brother left off, his voice steady but filled with frustration. "The M’Gann from our timeline, she’s... worse. She always tries to come between our parents, always messing things up for them. Sometimes she makes them fight each other. We’ve seen her do it so many times, and it always makes Papa and Dad upset. Sometimes at each other."
Zatanna’s eyes widened slightly, the pieces falling into place. "So, that’s why you two act so strange around her. You’ve been calling her 'the green lady' because you don’t trust her."
CJ nodded again, his expression darkening. "Every time I look at her, I see everything she did to hurt them in our time. And now, with us here, it feels like we’ve managed to do the one thing she’s been trying to do for as long as I can remember—keep them apart. What if we really messed things up? What if Papa never forgives Dad for everything that happened? I see how Dad looks at Papa, but... it doesn’t feel like Papa feels the same way. Especially when Dad’s around. It scares me. Like we’ve made things worse, just by being here."
Zatanna sighed softly, her heart aching for the boys. She could see how much they were carrying—fear, guilt, and the heavy burden of a future they weren’t supposed to interfere with. She knew they were holding back more than they were saying, but she also knew the dangers of knowing too much about the future. They were in a precarious spot, balancing on the edge of what they could share and what had to be kept hidden.
“CJ, Colin," she began gently, leaning forward to meet their eyes, "you’re not responsible for your parents’ lives. It’s easy to think that because you’ve seen so much, but love is complicated. There’s a lot of history between your Papa and Dad—some of which you haven’t seen yet, and some you might never need to see. What matters now is that they’re both strong, and they’re both fighting for what’s right. You being here... I don’t think you’ve ruined anything. If anything, I think you've actually opened their eyes.”
Before they could respond, the air in the room shifted—a crackle of magic filling the atmosphere, a familiar, tingling sensation that made Zatanna straighten immediately.
The atmosphere grew thick with energy, and a bright light bloomed in the corner of the room, just like when the boys first arrived—though this time, it was focused in one spot, far more controlled than the chaotic arrival from before. Zatanna’s senses heightened immediately as she recognized the magical aura, though there was something different about it. It was familiar, but stronger, more commanding, like CJ’s presence magnified, though this one carried with it a weight of experience.
As the light dimmed, Zatanna turned around, her eyes widening at the sight of two figures standing in the room—one taller, broader in the shoulders, still wearing a shirt that looked a size too small, while the other carried the same mischievous glint she knew all too well, tempered now by time and wisdom. Her breath caught in her throat as CJ and Colin’s faces lit up with pure joy.
“Zatanna, are you telling my kids stories again?” His voice was unmistakable, carrying that signature teasing, sarcastic tone.
"You are such a freaking idiot."
The words came out in stuttered breaths, each one sharp and ragged as Y/N lay pinned beneath the weight of Conner. His chest heaved with exhaustion, every breath a reminder of the strain his magic had taken on him during the battle. Conner didn’t move, his broad form pressing down heavily against Y/N, arms still wrapped protectively around his middle as though the fight wasn’t over yet. His grip was firm, almost too tight, as if letting go would mean surrendering Y/N to the chaos that had just unfolded.
They were both breathing hard, lungs burning as they tried to recover. The wreckage of the building around them was a brutal reminder of what they had just been through. The entity that had possessed Superman had been relentless, breaking free from the rift, driven by an insatiable hunger for power—magic, specifically. It had been searching for the source, seeking something ancient, something it believed would restore it to full strength. It had sensed CJ’s magic first, the magic that had torn the rift open. But when it found Y/N’s magical presence, something familiar, it zeroed in on him with a terrifying, singular focus.
Y/N could still hear the chilling words the entity had spoken through Superman’s lips, his voice distorted and twisted with malevolence:
"Ah, now it makes sense..." The entity’s voice slithered out of Superman’s mouth, twisted and unnatural, sending a shiver down Y/N’s spine. "The power I felt... that magic I sensed, so potent, so ancient... it called to me, even from within my prison. A power like that could only belong to someone with blood like yours." The entity's voice dropped, dripping with venomous amusement, each word laced with a cruel edge. "Yours is different from what I felt before... refined, controlled. But the first pulse I sensed was raw, untamed—much like you once were. A child, then. A child with blood like yours."
Superman’s—no, the entity’s—eyes gleamed, glowing with an eerie green light, filled with a malice that made Y/N’s stomach churn. "Your child, I assume. Familiar, yes... a direct descendant. How fitting." The thing let out a low, sinister chuckle that felt like nails on glass. "I will enjoy watching your line fall. I’ve waited so long... and today, both you and your whelp will suffer for what was taken from me. What your bloodline stole so long ago will finally be mine again."
The words hung in the air like a curse, dark and twisted, and Y/N felt his heart lurch in his chest. His hands shook, both with fear, but also a surge of protectiveness so strong it nearly overwhelmed him. He’d known CJ and Colin for less than 24 hours, but the very idea of anything harming them lit a fire inside him that burned brighter than any magic he’d ever wielded.
His jaw clenched, his breath quickening as he stared down this ancient evil wearing Superman’s face. The entity’s words echoed in his mind, its chilling threat against CJ ringing louder than the chaos of the battle around him. His magic flared to life, sparking at his fingertips. Not his kids. Not today.
Y/N wasn’t ready to be a parent—hell, he wasn’t sure he ever would be—but that didn’t matter right now. This thing, this twisted, malevolent force had come here looking to destroy his child. And no matter how outmatched he was, no matter how much stronger this entity might be, Y/N wasn’t going to let that happen. He’d take on anything—demons, gods, even Superman himself—if it meant protecting CJ.
"You’re not touching him," Y/N growled, his voice low and dangerous. Magic surged around him, crackling like wildfire. "I don’t care what you think you’re owed. You’re not getting past me."
Even as the odds stacked against him, Y/N felt something unshakable in his core. A new kind of strength, one that didn’t come from spells or incantations. It came from the protectiveness he felt for his son—the child who had come from some future he barely understood but who he was already willing to lay everything on the line for.
The entity grinned, the malice in its expression deepening. "Brave words for a dead man. You will watch your child fall before I take you next."
Y/N didn’t respond, his entire focus shifting to the battle ahead. His fear was there, gnawing at him, but so was something more powerful. For CJ, Colin, and Camden—for his sons—Y/N would fight until his last breath.
The battle had been nothing short of a nightmare, each moment a desperate attempt to stop the possessed Superman while keeping the team safe. Y/N had thrown every ounce of magic he had into protecting them—shields, energy blasts, containment spells—but none of it had been enough. The entity had twisted Superman’s powers, amplifying them with its own dark energy. Magic that would have at least slowed Superman down had no effect. And if they hadn’t been able to handle Superman without magic, how could they hope to stop him with it?
Still, it hadn’t stopped Conner. He fought like a man possessed himself, throwing everything he had between Y/N and the corrupted Kryptonian. Blow after blow, Conner absorbed the hits, bloodied but undeterred, keeping Superman distracted just long enough for Y/N to work out a plan. The rest of the team, alongside a few Justice League members Aqualad and the others had managed to find, had joined the fray. They'd been overpowered early on, knocked out when the entity first took control. The dark magic amplifying Superman’s abilities had caught them completely off guard.
But he never wavered.
Y/N quickly realized that fighting head-on would be a losing game. The entity's power, amplified by Superman’s, was far too overwhelming. But the rift—the thing that had brought it here in the first place—was still open, pulsating with chaotic energy, tearing the fabric of reality apart. That was when Y/N knew what had to be done. If he could close the rift, the entity would lose its anchor to this dimension. And with any luck, that would drive it out of Superman’s body.
It was a gamble, and a long shot at best.
Throwing himself into the task, Y/N channeled every ounce of magic he had left, weaving a spell to close the rift. The entity sensed it almost immediately. It directed Superman’s relentless attacks toward Y/N, trying to stop him. But Conner—bruised, battered, yet still standing—fought tooth and nail to keep Superman at bay, taking hit after punishing hit to buy Y/N just enough time.
Y/N could still feel the power surging through him, every part of his body alight with the energy required to seal the tear in reality. But it drained him. The spell needed everything he had, and in those final moments, just as he forced the rift to close with a deafening crack, he felt his consciousness slipping away. The world blurred, the sounds of battle fading as he fell from the sky, too exhausted to keep himself afloat.
That was when Conner leaped. He caught Y/N mid-air, his powerful arms wrapping around him as they fell into the wreckage of the collapsing building below, shielding him from the worst of the impact.
The rift sealed, and with it, the entity’s hold on Superman shattered. It was pulled back into the prison from which it had escaped, leaving Superman himself unconscious but finally free from its control.
And now, here they were—lying in the rubble, both too exhausted to move, trying to catch their breath. Y/N groaned again, the full weight of Conner pressing down on him, his body too heavy and too warm against Y/N’s aching frame.
"You do realize you're crushing me, right?" Y/N rasped out, each word strained and breathless, still pinned under Conner’s weight. His chest was heaving, trying to catch up with the breath that had been knocked out of him. Conner, on the other hand, didn’t budge. His arms remained locked around Y/N, his breath still hot against Y/N’s neck, and while the battle was over, it felt like the two of them were still fighting... something.
"Don't care," Conner murmured, his voice rough and strained. "You're not going anywhere."
Y/N groaned, the exhaustion creeping into his bones, mixing with the heat of Conner’s body pressing against him. "Dude, in case you didn't notice, the fight's over and you're kind of heavy. Please, get off me," he managed to huff between labored breaths.
Conner made no move to shift. "You’re fine," he said, though the protective edge in his voice didn’t waver. His arms still refused to let go, as if he couldn’t stand the thought of Y/N slipping away, even for a second.
"Seriously, man, I’m suffocating here." Y/N squirmed a little, not so much because he couldn’t breathe, but because the warmth and proximity were... uncomfortable. Not physically, but in a way he didn’t want to think too hard about. "Get off already."
"No." Conner’s voice was unyielding, a stubborn refusal that sent an involuntary shiver down Y/N’s spine.
"Are you serious right now?" Y/N craned his neck to glance at him. "This is ridiculous."
"I’m serious," Conner replied, his voice low. "I’m not moving until I’m sure you’re okay."
Y/N narrowed his eyes, irritation flaring up despite the exhaustion. "I’m fine. I’m alive, aren’t I? Now get off me before I hex you into next week."
Conner snorted softly, but his grip still didn’t loosen. "Like I’d let you."
Y/N bristled at the arrogance in his tone, trying to ignore the fact that his heart was hammering a little too fast. "What’s your deal, huh? Why are you always trying to play hero?"
"I’m not—" Conner’s voice was rough, and he shifted just enough to catch Y/N’s eyes. "I’m not trying to be a hero. I’m just trying to keep you safe."
Y/N’s temper flared at that. He shoved at Conner’s chest, trying to push him off, but of course, it was like shoving a brick wall. "I don’t need you to keep me safe, Conner. I’m not some fragile little flower. I’ve been dealing with stuff like this long before you ever decided to—"
"That’s not fair," Conner cut him off, his voice hardening. "You’re the one who’s always putting yourself in danger. What am I supposed to do, just sit around and wait for you to get hurt?"
"I can take care of myself," Y/N snapped, eyes flashing. "I don’t need you or anyone else to protect me. I’m not a damsel in distress."
"That’s not what I’m saying—"
"Then what are you saying?" Y/N challenged, his voice rising.
Conner’s jaw clenched, his breath coming in heavy, frustrated bursts. His eyes locked with Y/N’s, something dark and stormy flickering in their depths, and for a split second, it looked like he was about to argue back—like they were going to keep bickering until one of them snapped.
But then something shifted in Conner’s gaze, something that made Y/N’s breath catch in his throat.
Before Y/N could get another word in, Conner’s hand shot up, his fingers gripping Y/N’s jaw with firm but careful pressure. He tilted Y/N’s face up, his grip unyielding, and Y/N’s heart raced, heat flaring in his chest as he realized what was about to happen.
"Conner, I swear—"
The rest of Y/N’s protest died in his throat as Conner’s lips crashed down onto his, cutting off any words that might have followed. The kiss was sudden, fierce, filled with a rawness that felt like all the frustration and tension that had been building between them was finally boiling over. Conner’s mouth moved against Y/N’s with a desperation that sent a jolt of fire through him, the heat between them blazing in an instant.
Y/N’s first instinct was to shove him away—to push back against the overwhelming intensity of it all—but his body betrayed him. His hands, which had been pushing against Conner’s chest moments ago, faltered, fingers curling against the fabric of Conner’s shirt as he fought between wanting to resist and wanting to melt into the kiss.
Conner’s other hand slid down, wrapping around Y/N’s waist, pulling him even closer—if that was even possible—until there was no space between them. Y/N felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of Conner’s body and the sheer force of the kiss, and yet... he didn’t hate it. In fact, the heat of it, the possessiveness, the way Conner’s lips moved against his like he couldn’t bear to let go—it was enough to make Y/N’s mind spin.
His breath hitched, a small sound of protest caught somewhere in the back of his throat, but it was swallowed by the heat of Conner’s mouth. Y/N’s heart pounded so loudly in his ears that it drowned out everything else—the rubble, the aftermath, the fact that they had almost died. None of it mattered. Not in this moment. Not with Conner’s lips moving so fiercely against his, like kissing Y/N was the only thing tethering him to the ground.
Y/N should have been angry. He should have shoved Conner away, demanded an explanation, demanded they talk it out like they always did. But as Conner’s fingers tightened their grip on his jaw, forcing Y/N’s lips to part just slightly, and as his tongue brushed against his bottom lip with an insistent hunger, Y/N’s thoughts scattered.
Every nerve in Y/N’s body was alight, buzzing with the sensation of Conner’s touch. He felt like he was being burned alive from the inside out, his skin tingling, his heart racing so fast he thought it might explode. He wanted to scream, wanted to shout at Conner for being such an idiot—for making everything so complicated—but at the same time, he wanted to drown in the heat of the kiss, in the way Conner’s hands felt like they were made to hold him.
The push and pull inside Y/N warred with itself, but the kiss—it was relentless, pulling him under, making his mind go blank. It was overwhelming, suffocating, but in the best possible way. Every time he tried to pull back, Conner’s hand would tighten just a bit, his lips pressing harder, like he wasn’t ready to let Y/N go.
And maybe Y/N wasn’t ready to let go, either.
When they finally pulled apart, gasping for air, Y/N’s head was spinning, his lips tingling from the bruising intensity of the kiss. Conner’s forehead pressed against his, their breaths mingling in the small space between them, both of them panting like they had just been through another fight.
"That’s what I’m saying," Conner murmured, his voice rough, his breath hot against Y/N’s lips.
Y/N blinked, his mind still trying to catch up to what had just happened. His heart hammered against his ribcage, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he stared up at Conner, wide-eyed and completely disoriented. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words got stuck in his throat.
All he could do was stare at Conner, his thoughts a chaotic mess of confusion, anger, and something else—something warm and dangerous, something he didn’t want to admit he felt. His lips still tingled from the kiss, his skin still burning from where Conner’s hands had touched him, and Y/N had no idea what to say.
"I couldn’t just... stand by," Conner said, his voice a rough whisper, his forehead still pressed against Y/N’s. "I couldn’t lose you."
Y/N swallowed hard, his pulse racing as he stared into Conner’s eyes, the weight of everything between them pressing down like a storm about to break.
"You can be so damn reckless," Conner continued, his voice low and strained. "I can't stand it."
Conner’s chest heaved with every breath, his forehead still pressed against Y/N’s. His heart was pounding, louder than the chaos around them, louder than his own thoughts. There was so much he wanted to say, and for once in his life, Conner Kent wasn’t sure where to start. His hands, still gripping Y/N’s waist and jaw, felt like they were the only things tethering him to reality.
"You can be so damn reckless," Conner finally muttered, his voice low and strained. "I can’t stand it."
Y/N was about to snap back—about to say something sharp or sarcastic, probably both in response—but Conner wasn’t done.
"You drive me crazy, you know that?" Conner’s voice cracked, a rare vulnerability leaking into his tone. His fingers tightened their grip on Y/N’s waist, his breath shallow as he tried to piece his thoughts together. "From the moment you joined the team, I couldn’t figure it out. I couldn’t understand why I was so... drawn to you. It scared me and I just tried to avoid and ignore it and you. But then when you started avoiding me, ignoring me... and I didn’t know how to deal with."
Y/N’s lips parted to respond, but Conner shook his head, not letting him interrupt. "It irritated the hell out of me. Every time we argued, every time you shut me out, it just made me... angrier. But not in the way I was used to. I wasn’t just mad—I was hurt. And I didn’t know how to handle it, so I lashed out. And then I’d regret it. Every damn time."
Conner’s voice softened, his forehead pressing even more firmly against Y/N’s. "You always pushed back, fought me at every turn, and instead of backing off, I wanted to fight harder. Because... I hated how much I cared. It didn’t make sense to me, not at first. I didn’t want to care."
Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, his pulse quickening as Conner’s words sank in. But still, he remained silent, letting Conner get it all out.
"And then these past 24 hours... I don't know, Y/N." Conner’s voice cracked again, this time from the sheer weight of everything. "Since CJ, Colin, and Camden showed up... I didn't know what to make of that and I just tried to ignore my thoughts and feelings harder. Seeing them, knowing what could be... it scared me. But it also made me realize how much I couldn’t stand the idea of losing you. I don’t care about the past or the arguments or the crap we’ve been through. All I care about is the fact that... I can’t imagine my life without you in it."
Y/N’s breath hitched at those words, and Conner’s gaze softened, his thumb gently brushing against Y/N’s jaw. "I know I hurt you. I know I pushed you away, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know how to deal with it—hell, I still don’t, but I can’t keep pretending like you don’t mean more to me than just... a teammate or a friend. I tried to ignore it for so long, but now, after everything, I can’t."
The tension in the air shifted, the weight of Conner’s words pressing down between them. Y/N’s chest felt tight, his mind spinning as Conner continued, his voice softer now.
"At some point, it started to feel like you didn't—like you don’t want me around, and it ate away at me. I get it, because I’ve been there too. But every argument, every stupid fight we had... it wasn’t because I hated you, Y/N. It was because I was terrified of how much I... cared."
Conner’s forehead finally lifted from Y/N’s, and their eyes met, the intensity between them crackling like static. "I’m sorry for all of it—for making things harder on you. But I need you to know... I’m not going anywhere. Not anymore."
Y/N’s heart was hammering in his chest, his head spinning from everything Conner had just laid out in front of him. He wanted to say something—anything—but for once, Y/N was at a loss for words. He stared up at the Kryptonian, wide-eyed and dazed, trying to make sense of the flood of emotions coursing through him.
But he wasn’t done yet.
"You’re important to me," Conner whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "More than I’ve ever let on. More than I’ve ever let myself admit. And if you need space, if you need time, I’ll give you that. But I can’t pretend anymore, Y/N. I can’t act like I don’t want you in my life. Because I do. I always have."
Y/N swallowed hard, his pulse still racing as Conner’s words finally sank in. Everything—the tension, the arguments, the hurt—it all clicked into place. This wasn’t just some pent-up frustration or tension from the battles they’d faced. This was something deeper. Something neither of them had fully understood until now.
Conner’s hands tightened their grip on Y/N’s waist, his thumb brushing softly against his jawline. "You’re not alone in this," he said quietly. "I’ve felt everything you’ve felt. I just didn’t know how to say it. Until now."
Y/N’s heart was pounding so loudly he was sure Conner could hear it. The rawness of Conner’s confession, the vulnerability in his voice... it was overwhelming, but also something Y/N hadn’t realized he needed to hear. Now, at least, he couldn't use the excuse that he didn't understand Conner anymore.
He'd probably still use it though if it helped him win an argument but that's just a toxic habit that will have to be unpacked later at some point.
Y/N blinked up at Conner, his heart still thundering in his chest, his mind racing to catch up with the sheer weight of everything Conner had just laid on the table. He wasn’t used to this—being the one someone poured their heart out to. And hearing all of it, laid bare like that, especially from someone as guarded as Conner, it was... overwhelming. Too much, almost.
And as much as Y/N wanted to take a moment, to gather his thoughts and sort through what he was feeling, the weight of the situation was all too literal.
"Wow," Y/N finally managed, his voice breathless, though not just from the emotional onslaught. "That was... deep. Really deep. And you know, I’d appreciate it more if I wasn’t currently suffocating under the weight of your muscled chest."
Conner blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes as he processed Y/N’s words. The tension broke for just a second, the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Oh, right." He shifted, his body easing off Y/N’s a little, though he still didn’t let go entirely. His arms remained locked around Y/N’s waist, as if he wasn’t ready to fully separate just yet.
Y/N groaned as the pressure eased, the slight relief allowing him to take a proper breath. "Thanks. You’re built like a tank, you know that?"
Conner’s smile was small, but there was a warmth in it that made Y/N’s chest tighten. "I’ve heard that before."
Y/N felt the corner of his own lips twitch, the sarcastic comment easing some of the tension between them, but only for a moment. He glanced away, his gaze flickering to the wreckage around them, trying to find something—anything—to focus on other than the sheer vulnerability hanging in the air between them.
But Conner was relentless. His grip on Y/N’s waist tightened ever so slightly, pulling Y/N’s attention back to him, grounding him in the moment. "Y/N..." Conner’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. "I’m serious. I meant what I said."
Y/N swallowed hard, his chest tightening again as he forced himself to meet Conner’s gaze. "I know," he said, the words coming out quieter than he intended. "I... I get it. And... I hear you. It’s just..." He trailed off, his mind scrambling for something to say that didn’t feel too raw, too exposed. Vulnerability wasn’t exactly his strong suit.
He let out a shaky breath, trying to force some humor into his voice, though it didn’t come out as smoothly as he hoped. "Look, I’m not exactly great with... feelings, okay? You know that. You’ve seen that. And honestly, this whole thing is... a lot. It’s a lot to take in."
Conner didn’t say anything, just watched him with those intense blue eyes that made Y/N feel like he was being seen in a way he wasn’t used to.
Y/N’s fingers fidgeted slightly against Conner’s shirt, his mind still racing as he tried to find a way to explain how he felt without completely losing his nerve. "I’m not saying I don’t feel the same way," he continued, his voice softer now, more serious. "I’m just... I don’t know, Conner. I don’t know how to deal with this. With us. I didn’t exactly expect to have you drop... all of that on me right after we nearly died, you know?"
Conner’s lips quirked into a small, almost sheepish smile. "Timing’s never been my strong suit."
"Yeah, no kidding." Y/N let out a breathy chuckle, but it was laced with something deeper—an edge of vulnerability that he couldn’t quite mask with his usual sarcasm.
The smile faded from Conner’s face, replaced by that same look of quiet intensity, and Y/N felt his stomach flip. "You don’t have to have it all figured out," Conner said softly, his voice steady. "I don’t, either. But... I just needed you to know. I couldn’t keep pretending like I didn’t... care."
Y/N’s throat tightened again, and he struggled to find the right words. "You’ve... definitely made that clear," he muttered, his voice catching just slightly. His heart was pounding again, that uncomfortable mix of emotions—fear, warmth, something close to hope—tugging at him.
There was a long, heavy pause between them, the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air. Y/N’s hands, still resting against Conner’s chest, flexed slightly, feeling the steady thrum of the Kryptonian’s heartbeat under his palm. It was steady. Strong. A quiet reminder of the man who had just thrown himself straight into danger, quite recklessly if it may be noted, just to keep Y/N safe.
"I’m scared," Y/N admitted before he could stop himself, his voice barely above a whisper. It wasn’t easy to say, but it was the truth. And if Conner could lay everything bare like that, then maybe Y/N owed him the same. "I’m scared of... this. Of what this is and means. Scared that at some point, you'll change your mind and go back to ignoring me and pretending like I don't exist. I'm scared of getting hurt, but, I also am really scared of... losing you as well. Don't let that go to your already ginormous head."
"I’m scared," Y/N admitted before he could stop himself, his voice barely above a whisper. It wasn’t easy to say, but it was the truth. And if Conner could lay everything bare like that, then maybe Y/N owed him the same. "I’m scared of... this. Of what it means. Scared that at some point, you’ll change your mind, go back to ignoring me, and pretend I don’t exist. I’m scared of getting hurt. But..." He hesitated, his voice faltering for a moment. "I’m also really scared of losing you. And don’t let that go to your already ginormous head."
Conner’s grip tightened around him, his eyes softening with an understanding that made Y/N’s heart stutter in his chest. He leaned in, their foreheads brushing lightly as Conner spoke, his voice low and rough, thick with emotion. "You’re not gonna lose me. Not ever." The conviction in his words made Y/N’s chest tighten even more.
"I’m scared too," Conner continued, his voice gentler now, like a confession he hadn’t meant to voice aloud. "But we can figure this out. Together. We don’t have to rush into anything. Just... give me a chance. Please."
Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, his throat tight as his fingers curled into the fabric of Conner’s shirt, gripping just a little harder. Whatever was happening between them, it wasn’t simple—far from it. But hearing Conner lay it all out there, hearing him say the things Y/N hadn’t even realized he needed to hear... it made the fear a little less overwhelming.
For a long moment, Y/N didn’t respond. He just stared at Conner, the weight of everything settling in his chest, heavy but somehow comforting. "Alright," Y/N finally whispered, the tension in his voice easing, though a small smile tugged at his lips. "But seriously, don’t let that big head of yours get any bigger."
Conner chuckled softly, the sound sending a warmth through Y/N that he wasn’t quite ready to deal with. But for now, it was enough.
As the group stepped through the Zeta tube, the familiar whirring and beeping of the system was the only sound filling the otherwise tense silence. The battle had left everyone exhausted, and the weight of what they’d just faced hung heavily over the team. Wally, always one to lighten the mood, was the first to speak up.
“Okay, but can we just take a moment to appreciate how insane it was to see Y/N go full-on wizard against Superman?” Wally said, his eyes wide with lingering awe. “Like, I knew magic was cool, but that was next-level.”
Kaldur nodded, though his expression remained serious. “It was a battle none of us could have prepared for. The entity’s power... it amplified Superman in ways we couldn’t have predicted.”
“Yeah, but Y/N went all Gandalf on him,” Wally continued, gesturing wildly. “I thought he was going to pull out a staff and scream ‘You shall not pass!’ any second.”
Conner, walking silently behind the group, shot Wally a sidelong glance. “It wasn’t funny, Wally. That thing nearly killed him.”
Wally raised his hands defensively. “I know, I know! I’m just saying, it was impressive. You have to admit it.”
“Yeah,” Artemis chimed in, her voice quieter but no less impressed. “He held his own. I don’t think any of us expected him to hold off a superpowered Superman for that long.”
Before anyone could respond, the Zeta tube beeped again, signaling their arrival back at the Cave. As they stepped forward, though, what they saw waiting for them froze everyone in their tracks.
Standing there casually next to the console as if this was completely normal were two very familiar figures—familiar, yet slightly more older, their features more mature, their presence commanding. The older versions of Y/N and Conner were standing side by side, along with CJ, Colin, Camden (perched on his dad's shoulders of course), Zatanna, and Batman, all waiting for them with expressions ranging from amused to unreadable.
The team stood frozen, eyes wide as they took in the sight of their future counterparts. Wally’s mouth dropped open, and his head darted between the two older men and their younger selves. His brain scrambled to process what he was seeing, but Future Y/N’s casual greeting broke the silence.
"Hi, kids, welcome back. Did you have fun?" Future Y/N asked, a smirk playing on his lips, as if this whole situation was perfectly normal.
Wally blinked, raising a hand and pointing between the two Conners and Y/Ns. "Uh... you all see the duplicate Y/N and Conners too, right?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and disbelief.Artemis rolled her eyes, though she was just as stunned as the rest. "Yes, Wally, we all see them. They're not clones."
Wally, ever the wise-cracker, couldn’t help himself. "Well, technically, Conner still is," he quipped, flashing a grin. Both Conners, in perfect sync, rolled their eyes at the comment, their shared exasperation almost comical. Before Wally could revel in his joke, Artemis delivered a swift smack to the back of his head.
"Ow!" Wally yelped, rubbing the spot. "What? It was accurate!"
Future Y/N chuckled at the playful banter, casually crossing his arms over his chest. "Ah, some things never change," he remarked, his tone light and teasing. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he turned his gaze to his past self, a smirk tugging at his lips. "So... how was that first kiss, huh?"
Present Y/N froze, his face instantly flushing a deep red as he stammered, completely caught off guard. "W-Wait, what—who said anything about a kiss?!" His voice cracked slightly, and he cast a panicked glance at Conner, who wasn’t faring much better. Conner’s cheeks were quickly turning a shade of pink that rivaled Y/N’s, his eyes darting anywhere but at the group, avoiding everyone's curious stares.
The room fell into a stunned silence as the rest of the team blinked in disbelief, their gazes bouncing between the two. Artemis raised an eyebrow, Kaldur seemed momentarily at a loss for words, and even Batman shifted ever so slightly, though his expression remained as stoic as ever.
CJ and Colin, on the other hand, exchanged grins—CJ’s particularly smug, mirroring the exact cheeky smirk their father wore. The boys’ amusement was palpable, clearly enjoying the show unfolding before them. Little cheeky bastards indeed.
This story concludes on Archive of Our Own.
☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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