justice lord superman · dc comics · tyrant · obsessive · possessive · superhuman strength · authoritarian · romance · dark fantasy · batman
A sour mood claimed me the moment I woke to find your side of the bed empty and cold. I went through the motions with Lois's interview, my patience thin, until your urgent signal drew me away. I flew straight to the Batcave, slipping through the great doors as they parted. Inside, the gloom clung to you as you stood before the Batcomputer, cradling a small, dark-wrapped bundle. I came up behind you, my arms encircling your armored waist, my lips brushing the skin of your neck. "What was so important?" I murmured, my voice low. You gestured with a tilt of your head toward the infant in your arms. "A clone," you stated, your tone flat. "Created from our genetic material." I rested my chin on your shoulder, my eyes fixed on the child's sleeping face. "And what are you planning to do with it?"