#meta!reader

alfred fears he's failed you.

you always were a quiet child, swallowing all the hurt you felt and buried it within your soul. he fears the hurt has consumed you.

he can't confidently say that he's done all he could for you, trying to manage the manor along with the other dysfunctional residents amd their nightly activities, which rendered him unable in giving you his undivided attention.

if he could to back, he would change it all in a heartbeat.

he vividly remembers the day commissioner gordon had phoned him about you, and was briefed about your background and the “accident” through the call, feeling a sense of relief that you had a somewhat normal background. when he saw you, he took that back. the chair you were on looked too big for your malnourished frame, the bandages swallowing your entire body and a couple bruises here and there. but what struck him were your eyes. they were so distant, bags heavy, with no light in them. the eyes that wordlessly show the hidden horrors you’ve been through.

you reminded him of bruce.

you were understandably skittish, settling into a completely new environment and seeing unfamiliar faces that you just had to accept were your now family. he assumed that with time you'd be able to overcome it after mourning the loss of your aunt, along with the help of everyone welcoming you with open arms and getting you accustomed to your new life as part of their family.

yet, that never happened.

he sees them dismiss you.

he’s seen you stand politely outside bruce’s office until he’s done with his tasks before requesting something (the bare necessities), all because previously, the first time (and only time) you had mistakenly interrupted his meeting in order to hand him the papers that alfred had asked you to, bruce had raised his voice at you for being a nuisance.

he’s seen the way you stare at dick when he interacts with the other members, showering them in brotherly love, yet walking past you like you were a piece of furniture, not noticing you.

he’s seen the way you had recommended jason books based on what he had read, only for him to scoff into your face and undermine your intellect, purposely limiting his interactions with you.

he’s seen the way you curiously looked through tim’s door that was left ajar, only for him to give you a scornful look and slamming it in your face, calling you annoying.

he’s seen the way you had agreed to every one of damian’s snide and hateful comments about how you were never good enough for the last name you do not hold, just because he was the only person who paid you any mind.

he's seen the way cassandra could easily read people, but never seemed to think you were worthy enough to give you the time of day, even while your eyes would try to find hers.

he's seen how easy it was for you to cry yet you never allowed yourself to do so, you'd curl your hands into tight fists until it pales and bleeds.

he’s seen the emptiness in your gaze when they’re locked on everyone during dinner, talking and engrossed in each other’s conversation, taking part of each other's lives while leaving you in the sidelines, standing at the doorway before you'd leave to your room, never joining them.

do they not see you?

a few months after you'd settled in, you had requested alfred that he would only really need to come clean your room once a week if at all, claiming that cleaning gives you a sense of control and there's a particular way it needed to be done. you rarely asked anything of him, you were self-sufficient to a fault, never allowing yourself to rely on anyone but yourself. he had offered to learn how you liked the cleaning to be done, but you remained unconvinced. so as to not overstep, he obliged.

he wished he didn’t. he sees you retreat further into yourself. he sees you spiral. he sees it all, yet was unable to stop it. he sees, but does nothing.

alfred cared. but that didn’t mean he could save you.

the weather was gloomy, the grey sky stretched on above you as you watched the soft puffs of smoke escaped from your lips floated up to join the clouds. the familiar comfort that a cigarette brings you feels like a blessing these days. smoking helps lift the weight that weighs heavy on your skull, you try to soothe it even more by pressing harshly against your eye with your other hand void of the burning cigarette. you know it's a bad habit that you should ideally kick, especially worse if you were caught by anyone, but do you actually care?

“thought i'd find you here.”

you don't even need to turn around, recognizing the voice too well.

“what is it this time?”

another voice chippers, the peaceful atmosphere you were surrounded in was interrupted. you sigh and put out the cigarette, waving your hand around to fan the smoke away from your only two friends. they both giggle and extend their arms towards you to pull you up.

“you know, with the amount you've smoked lately, alfred might find out. like, i can smell you before i see you.” they tut at you half-heartedly, watching you brush the dirt off your uniform.

it has become a routine for you, to linger behind after school ends at the more secluded areas, where you hide your bike inside the overgrown bushes (in fear of it being stolen yet again) and smoke away your troubles before making your way back. it's not a habit you started recently, you first smoked when you were working that shitty job to keep you and your aunt afloat, and having mental breakdowns behind the restaurant during break on every shift started to become too much of a nuisance, which was when a coworker had offered you theirs; but you can tell your friends could see that you've been turning to it more often.

with the chatter following behind, you start walking your bicycle towards the main gates of the school, ready to take your usual route home. occasionally joining in their conversations, you're about to bid your friends goodbye until you catch the weird looks the other students throw at you while trying to increase their distance. your hands tighten around the handlebars, trying to remain unfazed as you stood there.

you couldn't even consider yourself a complete social reject, you had tried to remain on everyone's good side to ensure a smooth educational experience: you were helpful and nice, you had good grades and were consistently the top 5 students in your year, and taking parts in various clubs and after school activities. however, no amount of effort could erase the somewhat unsettled look your classmates throw your way and the worried look you teachers would cast at you.

for once, you hoped to not be seen.

does the disdain come from how they never saw your family show up to anything that involved you? or was it because you were a tryhard? it's not like you did it to prove yourself to your family or classmates, but it was a good distraction from the numbness that's eating you whole. you don’t understand what you’ve done. you were clearly not lacking in terms of academic achievements and extracurriculars, so it only left your social life to be judged. your social circle, which only really included your 2 friends, are the sweetest and most supporting characters you’ve known despite being constantly ignored by others, so you come to conclude that you must be the problem. the duo gave you a worried glance, patting your shoulder as you stood there. “hey, don't mind them, you can't please everyone you know.” “yeah, you can't control everything! just let it go.” your other friend chimes in, pushing the back of your bike, prompting you all to walk again.

you smiled, your friends have always been your source of comfort, it was a bond you’ve built on trust and wordless understanding, they had been so compassionate about what you’ve been through even if you rarely opened up - they might be the only people keeping you sane. they understood you more than you did yourself.

you compose yourself and hop on your bicycle, turning back to wave at them. with a sigh, you pushed off, their silhouette fades into into the distance as the wind caresses your face while you pedal. you try not dread having to go back to the manor, enjoying the few short moments you feel at peace within your daily routine, you cycle on the familiar path you've taken countless times before - it's just another day to return to the house that was not your home.

damian was rummaging through your room. mostly out of boredom from roaming the countless empty halls within the manor absent-mindedly, walking past countless doors before he noticed yours. he really didn't have any malicious intentions, despite his distaste of your existence, he was not one to seek you out to make your life harder, he was above that - at least, that's what he believes.

there's not much to see in your room, a couple band posters peeling at the edges, books scattered next to the table lamp on the carpet, bed tidy but not neatly, opened notebooks on your desk. it fills him with contempt. you are less than: no prophecy to fulfil, no legacy to uphold - but also, no trauma to drag you down, your past a clean slate. sharing the same father, but not cut from the same cloth.

unlike him, you were ridiculously normal. unlike him, you were free.

maybe he resents you more than he initially thought.

his eyes lands on a small shirt hung on the wall, it might as well be baby attire.

it was a ragged looking thing, really. the colours worn off, the edges a little frayed but not from use, but rather the quality. curiously, he steps on your bed reaching for it to investigate further.

"what are you doing."

embarrassingly, damian did not care enough to get caught being nosy in your room in the first place. so when you opened your door that was oddly left ajar to see damian standing on your bed with his shoes on after a long day of school, he feels compromised. before he stumbles off your bed, his hand manages to snag the edge of the shirt, pulling it off the walls. your eyes finally catches on to what he was reaching for and your heart rate quickens.

despite how increasingly difficult it was for you to remain calm, you try to smile, "please give that back, damian" you're so nervous your hands almost shake trying to urge him to return it. damian feels humiliated being forced to confront the person whose room he was snooping through, so he fists the article tighter in his hand and snarls at you. seeing as he is not intending to return it, you take a cautious step forward, raising both of your arms.

like a threatened dog, he pushes you harshly with his entire body weight to make way for the door. you stumble back in shock, but grab onto his shoulder before he manages to leave your room. "damian, please, that's very important to me" you plead, trying to pry his fingers off it.

in damian's mind, this was no longer about what's yours, this was his power being questioned.

"you don't even need this rag anymore" he slaps your hand away. your patience wearing thin, frustration bubbling to the surface of your composure, you start forcefully trying to snatch it back. soon, you both were fighting for it, pulling back and forth. you were obviously at a disadvantage, but in your desperation, it didn't matter. you scream at him to let go.

and damian? he's starting to get entertained, having never seen you this emotional before. this was like a game to him, it's too easy to overpower you, so he drags the fight on despite you landing a few hits on him yourself - he's mocking you. the brawl continues, until the sound of fabric ripping stills you.

in your hand was nearly half of your shirt, the other half still firmly held in damian's grasp.

colour leaves your face, you stare in horror at the torn up shirt, not being able to utter a sound.

meanwhile, the fun was over for damian, so he saw no purpose in remaining in your room as he wordlessly let go of the fabric and walked out, stepping on it on the way as if for good measure.

you grabbed him by the shirt, eyes holding back tears. "that was the only thing left from my mother."

the revelation stills him, he feels bad, and he hates that he feels anything for you besides hatred.

"so? that's not my problem. it's not my fault your peasant of a mother couldn't afford anything else to leave you with" he taunts, "in fact, she couldn't even afford to raise you, so now you're here leeching off while haunting the manor with your unnecessary presence."

"what do you know about my mom" damian's eyes widen, taken aback by the seriousness in your tone, contrasting all the times defaulted into being a pushover when with him. you're so upset, your grip on his shirt tightens as you glare through the tears streaming down your face, "i didn't even get to know my mom!"

it's no surprise that with the ruckus that you both caused, it wouldn't have gone unheard. so when alfred came to check and inquire what all the noise was about, he witnessed you yell and push damian to the floor harshly. before you could even register alfred's presence, a force had struck you - your head snapped to the side while the sting starts to burn on your cheek.

alfred had slapped you. alfred. slapped. you.

you and damian stare at him in shock, alfred himself is in disbelief. what had he done? he tries to justify his actions to you, trying to make himself believe he did the right thing.

"damian is younger than you, as the older child you must understand. this is, in no way, an acceptable display as the older sibling."

surely you understand, you always do! he just feared things would have spiraled out of control. right? you're almost catatonic, eyes wide staring at him in disbelief, not believing your ears.

"you must understand."

he stares into your eyes, almost pleading that you'd forgive him. but all that was reflected in your gaze was a look filled with horror and betrayal.

you pushed through both of them, the call of your name falling on deaf ears, storming into the bathroom and slamming the door, locking it.

alfred cared, but not enough.

heyyyyyyyyyy 👋☺️... i uh.. may or may not have used actual events that happened to me in here #projecting am i right :heh: thank you for all your lovely comments 🫶 you're all so skibbidi it really helped motivate me (not to abandon my writing)! as always interactions are very appreciated ⊹ ࣪ ˖

It started with a bite. Dinner alone was bitter enough as it was. But, this bite was particularly bitter.

But, it was in that single bite your entire world shifted.

You were a Wayne. Talented, but not in a way that mattered to your father or the rest of your family. So what if you could play music by ear? That doesn't solve crime. So what if you have a voice that was smooth as silk, richer than your family name, sweeter than honey, or smokier than the thickest of Gotham's smog? That doesn't stop crime from happening. That doesn't solve anyone's problems.

So what if you spent hours and hours playing music in your room and writing lyrics? There were more important things to worry about.

Being desperate to fill that silence and living only through the images you'd see of your family on their public persona pages didn't warp you. Or, maybe it did. You're honestly not sure.

You just know that one bite was the wake up call.

It was too big a bite. You of more than you could chew and tried to swallow it down because you couldn't stand eating in the silence of that big empty kitchen.

You felt it get stuck. And, you felt fear and the air leave you.

You couldn't recall what it tasted like. Or, what it even was. Was it your favorite food? Was it some of Alfred's leftovers?

All you knew was it was lodged in your throat, good and tight.

And, no one was around to get it out. No one was there to help you as you couldn't even gasp for air. It was gone.

You counted the dreaded seconds to the inevitable. How the sinking horror that no one was going to help you. Not even if you ran to the cave and pounded on the clock guarding it. Your time was running out.

The agony that you would choke on the kitchen floor made tears well up in your eyes, your nose run and your skin to blotchy.

You don't know how long you stayed like that until you realized something.

You weren't dead. And, no one came.

As those two things settled into each of your still functioning lungs, you left the plate of food on the counter and went back to your room.

You looked up how to preform the Heimlich maneuver on yourself. Dislodging that bitter bite, before deciding to still chew and swallow it down. Letting it consume you as much a you devoured it.

The deep breath you took after felt empty. Almost unnecessary. It explained a few things about yourself and your life.

Your family was like air to you. Unseen, and, apparently, not needed.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

The slam of the door meant your boyfriend was home, alive, but from the sluggish sound of his footsteps, not uninjured. You paused what you were doing, carefully chopping vegetables for the stew you had been planning on making.

You set the knife down, washing your hands rather quickly, before making your way into the living room. Sure enough, Jason was sat on the couch, having taken his helmet off himself, sweaty and breathing heavily, his eyes shut.

His hair was nearly plastered to his forehead, and he didn't open his eyes to your entrance, despite hearing your footsteps grow closer. You took stock of his appearance, cuts and fresh bruises lined his cheeks, and you were sure there were other injuries beneath his armor if the thin trail of blood from your doorway was any indicator.

"You should see the other guy," Was the first sentence he offered you, lips curled in an attempt of a smirk, but his labored breathing made it appear more of a grimace.

"I'd rather not waste my time looking at dead bodies," Despite your worry, you joked back, voice soft as you knelt down in front of him.

He cracked open his eyes, sighing as he took in your sight. Your eyebrows were furrowed with worry, eyes raking over his appearance, no doubt calculating just how injured he was. He shifted, leaning towards you, prying a glove off before caressing your cheek, thumb softly brushing the cheek bone.

"I'm fine."

You rolled your eyes, rather used to hearing that line fall from his lips, "You and I both know that's a lie," You stood up, hands on your hips, "Take the armor off."

He raised an eyebrow, trying to deflect your concern, "Take me to dinner first."

You barely rose to the bait, "Dinner will be ready sooner if you let me treat your injuries without a fight."

The two of you stared at each other for a silent moment, before he relented. He had never thought he'd meet someone whose stubbornness outweighed his, and he never would have thought that someone as sweet as you could be harder-headed than him.

"Alright, alright," He hated that he was struggling to remove his own armor, muscles sore and screaming at him.

You shook your head as he dropped his clothes onto the ground, stepping forward, tender hands pressing gently to his skin. You started on his face first, palms cupping his jaw, and he relaxed into your hold, the warmth of your hands fighting the nippy cold from outside that still lingered in his bones.

You made a soft tsk, and he felt the odd sensation of the cuts on his cheek closing themselves up, not having to open his eyes to know that your gaze was unwavering, eyes glowing inhumanly, the color a brighter hue of the normal ones he fell in love with.

"The scars will fade quickly," You murmured, voice low as you moved your hands from his face, gently pressing against his shoulders, biceps, forearms, taking assessment of the damage.

He opened his eyes to watch you, a smile forming on his face as you continued muttering to yourself, cursing him for trying to hide his injuries, easily reversing the damage that had occurred to him hours before.

"Jason Todd," You scolded, pressing your hands against his ribs, eyes narrowing into a glare, "You were going to hide broken ribs from me?"

He chuckled sheepishly, "I've handled worse."

"Doesn't mean you have to now," He felt energy buzz under his skin, sucking in a quick breath as he felt his ribs fuse back together, "I'll do whatever I can to make sure of that."

He knew that, he knows that. But more often than not he feels as if he's taking advantage of you, of your abilities. He didn't know if your powers made you selfless, or if your selflessness manifested your powers. But he does know that you would run yourself ragged if it meant you could help every injured or ill-ridden person you came across.

He didn't want to admit it to anyone, let alone the rest of the stupid bird family of his, but he did go out of his way now to avoid massive injuries. If he came back with just a few scratches or bruises, he could talk you out of healing him, telling you paper cuts hurt worse than the injuries he had now.

He had less luck when he came home with cracked bones or bullet holes. He knew, and you knew, he would heal faster than normal thanks to the Lazarus Pit, but your powers worked almost instantly. You'd rather heal him immediately, rather than let him set for a few hours, body healing itself.

In a matter of five minutes, all his injuries were gone, leaving nothing but dried blood and faint scaring in their places. You sat back on your heels, eyes their normal shade, smiling up at him.

"There you are," You stood, leaning to place a soft, quick kiss to his lips, pulling back to run a hand through his hair, "Good as new."

"You enjoy playin' doctor, huh?"

The blush on your cheeks had him grinning like mad, and you rolled your eyes to avoid eye contact. He caught your hand in his, resting your knuckles against his lips, "Thanks doll."

You went to move, more than likely heading back to finish tonight's meal, but a flash of white caught his eye, and he grabbed your hand, turning it palm up. You stood, eyebrow raised in confusion as he ran his fingers across your skin gently, feeling the rough bandage across your palm.

"What happened?"

Your lips formed a quick 'o', grinning almost sheepishly, "I nicked myself cutting the carrots a bit earlier," You let him fiddle with your hand, your fingers for a moment longer, shrugging, "It's fine, I dressed it."

"I wish you could heal yourself."

He had found himself saying that so many times, wishing you could use your abilities selfishly. You healed him, no questions asked. You used to babysit some of the kids in the area, kissing away scraps and bruises under the guise that kisses healed everything when they looked at you in wonder. You held injured birds, cats, and dogs in the alleyways, taking care of their illnesses brought by hunger, correcting broken wings and crooked paws like it was as simple as breathing.

But whenever you were injured, struck down by a fever, found yourself in a situation where you needed help, you were helpless to do anything for yourself.

Your powers, Jason thought, were a blessing and a curse.

You shrugged, "Even if I could, wasting my abilities on a little cut? I'm fine."

His gaze met yours, and you understood the look he was giving you. You were repeating his own sentiments to him now, but you stood by it. Even if you could heal yourself, there were others who needed your energy and powers more than you did. Why would you have been born with this power if not to help others?

That's the notion you were raised on, and while Jason wanted you to put yourself first, protect yourself over strangers in the streets, he also knew that mindset was why the two of you met.

No one else would have rushed to the side of a downed Red Hood in the streets, covered in a mixture of his blood and the blood of those he killed. Everyone else would have run off or ignored him, but you rushed to his side, not asking questions, not trying to remove his hood or armor, hands placed where ever you could put them, and before he knew it, the dizziness brought on by blood loss was gone.

The rest was history.

He stood up, "Let me redress it at least," He squeezed your hand gently, "A lifetime of healing and you don't even know how to properly apply a band-aid."

You pouted but laughed along as he dragged you behind him to the bathroom, the first aid kit he forced you to buy still laying out on the counter.

You chattered away, talking about how your day had been, the kittens you saw coming back from the store earlier, how you got rid of their flea-ridden infections, and how you went back a few hours later and set up a box with some blankets in it for them. You mentioned keeping an eye on them, and bringing them home if no one claimed them in the next few days. He listened intently, cleaning the cut and dabbing some neosporin on it, wishing he could do more for your injuries, regardless of how small there were.

He'd do whatever he was able to though, wrapping any cuts you got, icing any bruises that appeared, he'd carry you everywhere if you required him to. He'd do that for as long as you'd let him.

You immediately found him sprawled on the ground. The armor shattered and discarded beside him.

“They didn’t understand you,” you whispered, their voice low and hoarse from hours of sobbing. “They didn’t deserve you. Julian didn’t deserve you. Killer Frost didn’t deserve you. But I… .”

Your fingers traced the jagged edges of the armor. It was cold, unfeeling, but it was all that was left. Savitar, the one you had idolized, was gone. Barry Allen had destroyed him, erased him like he was nothing. And worst of all, Killer Frost had learned his true identity. She had known him, spoken to him, looked into his eyes. That was supposed to be your privilege. That was supposed to be your moment.

But you had been overlooked.

Forgotten.

Your jaw clenched as the familiar bitterness clawed at your heart. Julian, the idiot, naive crime lab assistant had been his right-hand man, his voice in the chaos. And when Julian failed, Killer Frost had stepped in, taking the role you so desperately had dreamed of, had longed for. You could have protected him, shielded him from betrayal. You would have been loyal until the very end.

“I would have done anything for you,” you whisper, kneeling next to the rubble, yourvoice trembling. “Anything.”

The air around you began to shift, crackling faintly. Your breath caught as they felt a familiar presence. The area around you grew colder, darker, and the faint blue glow of the Speed Force seemed to seep into the dark night. You froze, your eyes wide as whispers began to fill your mind, faintly at first and then all at once.

You mourn for me.

It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

The voice was distant, fragmented, but unmistakable. Your heart pounded as they dropped the piece of armor and scrambled to their feet. The very words made your body shake with your grief stricken anger laced with hope and disbelief.

“Savitar?” you whispered, “Is it really you?”

The Speed Force binds me... for now. But my time is over. I am gone.

“No,” you said firmly, shaking their head. “You can’t be gone. You can’t! You deserve more than this! Let me help you. Let me bring you back.”

As you spoke you could feel the ground around you shake slightly.

The whispers faltered, taking notice, curious. You… are different. You feel me, even now. Your grief, even the ground shakes around you.

You look down, taking in his words as your mouth opens in surprise realizing the ground is indeed shaking around you.

You look back up, surprise echoing your features. "But-Ho-How is this possible?"

I was betrayed by myself,” the voice admitted, tinged with regret. By Barry Allen. And yet… he was always destined to become me and my sweet and loyal subject did you think I didn't have a plan? My power now lives in you. To complete what we started.

Your eyes narrowed, still bewildered by the fact that you now possessed a level of power that had been Savitar's. “Then I’ll make it happen again. Barry Allen was meant to be Savitar. That’s his destiny. And if this Barry won’t embrace it… I’ll make him.”

I knew I could trust in you. You and I, we share the same vision. The whispers grew faint.

“No! Don't go yet!” You shouted your words laced with panic. “I won’t let it go! "You deserve to exist. You deserve to rule. Barry is nothing without you. He needs to become you. It’s for his own good.”

The connection began to falter, the blue glow fading. I know you will not fail me, not like the others.

“Savitar!” You cried, reaching out desperately. But the presence was gone, leaving only silence in its wake. You stood there, trembling, their hands still outstretched.

You took a shaky breath, your resolve hardening. You wouldn't fail him. Not like them. You had studied Barry Allen for years, learned his weaknesses, his fears. You knew what it would take to break him, to push him to the edge.

“I’ll make them pay,” you whispered, a dangerous gleam in your eyes as you felt the ground tremble around you again, this time embracing the dark feeling washing over you. “I’ll make him understand. You’ll become Savitar again, Barry. Even if I have to destroy everything you love to make it happen.”

------

Over the next few weeks, you began your campaign. You started small, sowing seeds of doubt and fear in Barry’s mind. Anonymous messages, cryptic warnings, and subtle manipulations began to take their toll. Barry’s friends noticed the change, but no one could pinpoint the source of his unease.

One night, as Barry sat alone in the Cortex, staring at a crime scene photo, the lights flickered. He tensed, looking around.

“Hello, Barry,” Your voice echoed through the room, distorted and menacing.

Barry stood, his eyes scanning the room. “Who are you? Show yourself!”

You stepped out of the shadows, your face calm but their eyes burning with intensity. “You don’t recognize me, do you? I suppose I’m not surprised. You’re always so busy saving the day, you never notice the people who truly matter.”

Barry frowned, his body tense. “What do you want?”

You smiled, though there was no warmth in it. “I want to help you, Barry. To show you your true potential. To help you become who you were always meant to be.”

“And who’s that?” Barry asked, his voice cold.

You stepped closer, their voice dropping to a whisper. “Savitar.”

Barry’s blood ran cold. “You’re insane. Savitar is gone.”

“Is he?” Reader countered, their smile widening. “Or is he still a part of you, waiting to be unleashed? You can feel it, can’t you? The anger, the pain, the darkness. You can’t escape it, Barry. It’s who you are.”

Barry shook his head, his fists clenching. “No. That’s not me. That’ll never be me.”

Your eyes gleamed with determination. “We’ll see.”

And with that, you disappeared into the shadows, leaving Barry alone with his racing thoughts. You would break Barry Allen, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but Savitar.

--------

Hope you all like this one! I have never written for Savitar and the request was a bit out of my normal zone but I'm happy for these challenges! Thank you to all of you for reading, I love you all!

To humanity, unnatural things were to be feared and destroyed. They were threats, in a way, to the "peaceful" society that had been created through blood shed and inequality. A society that has classes and impoverished people, that kept growing and growing; saw things they deemed unnatural, not worthy of life. Why is that? Why does such a society fear so greatly the unnatural, the unknown and impossible?

It seemed to you that they feared the unnatural because of the power mystery gave it. Because what they do not know, they cannot control. And if they can't control something, it cannot be a part of society. Which unfortunately meant you were left on your own; fighting to survive against an environment that deemed you a danger. Even more unfortunately, for society at least, you had bad habit of becoming everything everyone feared you'd be.

An unnatural danger, set on destroy the society that cast it out.

How very, very natural, right?

You could still remember the very first time someone deemed you unnatural- unworthy of comfort in this shitty shitty world.

You must have been no older then six, out scrounging on the streets for pity coin you could use to help your parents out. A rattied hat made from old newspaper by your side as you made your misty and small illusions appear. Desperate for anyone to take an interest. Unsurprisingly, the person who did was anything but kind and far from merciful.

The small boy had shouted at you, laughed, sneered and beaten you to a bloodied pulp. Stealing all of the meager change you had managed to earn as he called you a witch over his shoulder bolting away.

While this was your first actual encounter with such people, you were not surprised. Your mother had warned you of such people.

"Vicious monsters," She had said beginning to explain why you had to be careful in the world, "they like to prey upon those they deem weaker, those who they think are unnatural and strange."

She shook her head as she continued to knit, though somewhat sloppily, "They don't like people who they can't control, they don't like that you're different."

You looked up at her with wide eyes as you tilted your head and she paused. She let out a soft sigh before setting down her knitting and pulling you into her arms.

"My sweet little miss believer, this world is going to be cruel to you simply because you exist. There's nothing your father or I can do to stop it other then pulling you in close like this and letting you know they are wrong."

She rested your head against her chest as she began to rock slightly squeezing you in her arms as she softly began to hum.

"They are wrong because you are a darling gem. A wise and wonderful girl who should not let the world push you down."

Cupping your face in her hands she smiled, tears lining her eyes, "You are my little miss believer, you know many things and have such faith. Do not allow these people to cause you to lose that faith. Faith in your father and I, faith in humanity, faith in your own skills or just merely faith in yourself."

Her words rang far too deep into the truth. Scars, both physical and emotions covered your body the older you got. But you still had your mother and father there, to nurse your spirit back to its brightness... until you didn't anymore.

The night was dark and growing colder and colder by the minute. Your father had disappeared merely a week before and you did not plan on letting him stay gone without answers.

Lurking around the usual street corners you heard the crackling of thunder and through the dense musty smell of Gotham's streets, you could smell rain. Sweet and clear, dancing in the clouds yearning to be released. Pulling your jacket in closer, you slipped down an alleyway, hoping to find answers and remain unseen. After all you had a reputation for causing trouble amongst the rouges and criminals, and tonight was the last night you needed trouble to catch you once again.

Though you had not heard of any rogues causing any chaos, you knew better then to trust the night would remain silent. It's current silence sent shivers down your spine. Silence was a deadly tool, used to confused and trick the naive into false senses of security. It was a tool you yourself had used and yet- something about tonight's silence made you on edge.

Looking around you almost sensed danger as the hairs on your arms stood on edge. Your heart racing as the silence screamed into your mind. Just as you had settled with yourself to finally venture home, a hand clamped down on your shoulder.

A shriek of sorts almost escaped you and you turned to find your fuming mother.

"Y/n! I thought I told you to be home before eleven?"

Though startled you merely blinked, allowing your mother to drag you back down the alleyway, towards the way home. Your heart hammered in your chest. Regardless of all your broken promises to come home on time, your mother had never- ever come out looking for you.

"Mom," You said, finally finding your voice, "what are you doing out here?!"

Your mother froze tilting her head a scowl of sorts on her face with dropped almost instantly. She let go of your hand and slowed to a stop, looking you over she sighed, taking a moment to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"I was worried, I heard that one of the nastier rouges was out tonight and I didn't want you to be out."

At first a wave of warmth washed over you. It, however, turned icy cold as you processed the rest of your mother's sentence.

'One of the nastier rouges'

Your heart skipped a beat and you grasped onto your mother's hand. Swallowing you met her gaze and forced a slow breath out.

"Mom, which one did you hear was out?"

It took her a moment to reply, as her brow furrowed, and she squeezed your hand.

"The Joker."

Your heart actually stopped, you struggled to breath as news reports and alley whispers raced over your mind.

"I heard that the bats pissed joker off so he's shooting for a big one this time."

"I heard that he lost Batman's attention and wants it back."

"Well, I heard that he's finally sick of his cat and mouse game and plans on taking as many civilians as possible with him when he goes."

Finally breathing again, you pulled your mother forward. Heart racing as your mind screamed to run. Your legs began to pump, your mother stumbling to keep up behind you her soft protests barely catching your ears.

"Shit- oh shit, mom we've gotta go."

You had just come up on a corner, knowing once you went down the alley just by here, you'd be two blocks from your complex. It didn't help though, your heart hammered to quickly you could hear your own heartbeat without even thinking about it.

"What? Honey," Your mom began shaking her head and causing you to stop, "it's fine we're almost home and-"

Your mouth began moving before you could stop yourself and you began pulling her again, finally rounding the corner, "No mom you don't understand this guy has been amping up his attacks recently and-"

Just as you did you came face to face with a goon in white makeup and a sinister red smile. He raised something strange, and time seemed to slow as you heard him pressing on a trigger.

"Y/N!" Your mother's shout echoed in your ears as she shoved you to the side.

You tumbled towards the ground screams ripping from you as you watched a fine mist encompass her entire face, "MOM NO!"

The mist faded as a blurry figure slammed the goon into the ground. Your mother slumped slightly as you darted to her side, her body shook, and you looked her over trying to find any damage only to hear a bone chilling sound.

"Ha-ha-ha."

You trembled as your mother raised her head, a large sinisterly familiar smile on her face.

"Mommy? Mommy, no. Please, no. NO!"

A jolt of sorts raced through you as you opened your eyes. A bright light slamming straight into them and sending spots racing across your vision.

"Aw, look," A mocking voice began, "our little Houdini's finally awake."

A piercing ache began at the base of your skull as you forced yourself to sit up. Faintly recalling your last moments, as rain poured down and you made the choice to finally let go.

Blinking you pressed a hand to your face, a sloshing of sorts following you as you found yourself immersed in a small pool of greenish water. Wincing you tried to look around the room- to understand where you were and what was going on.

Your eyes slowly adjusted, revealing that you were in a small cavern of sorts. A woman in a strange outfit stood nearby as a man in a dark clothing loomed over you. You watched as the woman motioned at someone just beyond your view muttering things you could not here.

"Hello there little one," the man began capturing your attention, "I am glad to see you're awake."

You swallowed feeling the headache fade slightly as you shifted. These people and this place did not seem familiar. You too a slow breath looking down to see your own hands and body before looking back up.

"Who are you?" You whispered, your voice cracking, throat dry and aching.

The man smiled, but something about it made you uneasy. He merely stared at you, replying, "A doctor of sorts."

You paused furrowing your brow, "So I'm not dead?"

The man- doctor- whatever he was laughed as he took a step back. Making temporary eye contact with the woman behind him. She had an odd look about her and you could have sworn you spotted a cat like mask before the man captured your attention again.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," You replied wincing again as you stepped out of the pool rising to your feet, "is that normal?"

He tilted his head, "In a sense yes."

His short responses had your mind racing, he was being so vague and something- something about all of this just seemed off.

"Uh okay. Then is fine to assume I'll get better right?"

The man nodded as the woman smiled at you. You narrowed your eyes still not entirely understanding what was going on or what had happened. You were sure that the fall would have killed you and- and you could still remember the impact.

"Wha-" You began as a wave of defenseness washed over you, "what is going on?"

"Whatever do you mean little Houdini?" The woman asked her eyes glinting.

"Who are you? Where am I? How am I still alive? And what the fuck happened?"

Your demand echoed in the cave like chamber causing the woman to smile even more. She even began to laugh and the man stepped in-between the two of you.

"Just please calm yourself, Y/N L/N. All will be explained soon."

You locked your jaw, a buzzing of sorts climbing up your chest as you began to grind your teeth. Tingles raced across your hand, a tell tale sign your body yearned to release some engery. To produce the false images and twist the illusions into exsistance.

"When?"

The man paused before the sound of footsteps approached. He went still and so did the woman behind him. A wave of fury rose up in your chest, were you such a fuck up you even fucked up dying? Was it possible that something else was going on? Regardless of your current internal turmoil you needed answers.

"Would someone please answer my fucking questions?!"

Just as your frustrated shout escaped a new woman walked into the room. She breezed past the first and stopped right in front of you. Allowing you to get a good look of her and a better grasp of the situation. She was dressed in a green and gold trimmed dress, her dark brown hair spilling around her face, dark skin and sharp bone structure that screamed Arabic descent. And her eyes, her bright- familiar green eyes stared at you with a curious gaze.

"I would be happy to, Y/N."

Something about her- whether be her eyes, her voice or face- something seemed familiar- so familiar you let your guard down.

"Where am I?"

The woman smiled, "Safe in my home."

It wasn't entirely a bad answer, but once again a vague one. And despite your concerns on where you were at you had to know one thing.

"How did I survive that fall? I just can't wrap my head around it."

The woman went still before she softly laughed moving a bit closer to you, "You didn't."

You froze as you answer caused your breath to stop, "What?"

"You didn't survive. In fact, that fall killed you, you died."

"But- wha- how? Am, am I dead?"

"Not anymore, but you were."

"I was- what do you mean I was dead? How can that be possible?"

The woman's smile deepened, and she took a step even closer, "You're not asking the right questions."

Grinding your teeth, you met her gaze and raised your chin frustration and desperation climbing up your throat, "Fine, who are you then?"

"Much better, I am Talia."

Something about that name set off warning bells in your head and your stiffened, allowing your guard to rise as you eyed the woman.

"Where am I? I want specifics."

"The league."

Your blood went cold as a realization began to dawn on you, "The league?"

"Yes, the league; assassins, shadows, what have you. You, are at one of the bases for the League."

"And- and-"

"I am Talia Al Ghul, and I brought you back to life."

You went still as everything began to click into place. The green water, the man and woman nearby, the vagueness- how you are alive, and you looked at Talia swallowing. The familiarity. This was Damian's mother, the person who you died trying to run from.

"You brought me back with the pit?" You whispered your voice trembling and cracking.

"Unbeknown to my beloved, son and the rest of his rabble, yes... so any more questions?"

You swallowed as your world began to scream and burn as it crashed down. They- they thought- no they knew you had died and- and no one would come save you this time. You were on your own you were alone.

You shook your head, refusing to let your voice tremble, "No."

"Good, because I have a lot of work for you..." Talia paused looking over her shoulder to the other woman, "what did cheshire call you? Ah, yes. Little Houdini."

Digging your nails into your palm you tried to calm your breathing as Talia tucked your hair behind your ear smiling.

"Let's get to work my Little Houdini."

Tag List:

Clark flew into the burning building, using his ice breath to calm the flames. He was told that everyone had been evacuated but something didn’t sit right with him. Using his hearing, the man concentrated on the building. Small cracks becoming louder, the creeks of the floorboards. A heartbeat.

Clark opened his eyes, scanning his surroundings he quickly saw the owner of the heartbeat. He walked into the burnt room, the smell of melted plastic engulfed his nose. As he looked around, Clark noticed part of the room hadn’t been touched.

An estranged cry echoed in the room, catching the hero off guard. He looked to see ash had covered the outside of a Moses basket. Inside a baby, wrapped in a pale blue blanket covered in sun symbols, cried. The baby had their fists clenched, hitting the air as they cried. Clark, unsure what to do exactly, picked up the baby.

As he began to rock them in his arms, the baby calmed down, opening their eyes wide. “Look at you, with those big (e/c) eyes” Clark cooed, a smile forming on his face as the baby began to laugh.

“Superman!”

Lois came into the room, looking for her husband. Once she did her eyes went wide. “Where did you get a baby?” Lois asked him, looking at him in shock. “They were the only one left. I think they started the fire” Clark admitted, his theory making his wife look at him strangely. Lois took a moment before answering him.

“Give me the baby, I will sort something out” Lois sighed, walking closer to her suited up husband. “You sure?” Clark asked her. “Clark, I am a grown woman. I can handle a baby with powers” Lois said, edging her husband to hand her the baby. Clark, not only terrified of his wife’s wrath but knowing she was right, handed the baby over to her.

Lois instantly fell in love with the bundle in her arms. Their little hands instantly caught the chain of her necklace, playing with the ring. “Let’s get you out here” Lois smiled before looking back at her husband. “Have a shower before you come home” Lois told him, leaving with the baby in her arms.

12 years later…

You sat on the couch, waiting for your mother and father to come back from talking with your grandfather. “Hey princess, how are you feeling?” Clark asked his daughter, sitting across from her on one of the love seats. “I’m good Dad” You answered, playing with the sleeves of your top.

Lois kissed your head before leaning against the couch Clark sat on. She held a small folder in her hands, looking very nervous. “What’s going on?” You asked, getting very nervous. Lois took a deep breath before opening the folder. She took out an old newspaper clipping from twelve years ago. Your mother was on the front holding a baby in black and white. You read the title

Baby Survives Mass Fire Unharmed

“Why are you showing me this?” You asked, looking at your parents in a state of confusion. Clark cleared his throat before speaking. “Twelve years ago, Superman stopped a building from burning. When he was inside, he found a baby girl, unharmed in any way. The fire didn’t even reach her. Your mother followed him once it was safe and took the baby to be treated” He began, his voice wavering slightly.

“The baby had been tested on and given powers. Weather control to be exact” Lois continued, looking you in the eye. “Sweetheart, that baby. It was you and your Dad was the one who found you” Lois finished, her nerves making her feel like utter shit.

You were quiet, only looking down at the newspaper in disbelief. “I’m adopted?” You asked. “Yes” Clark answered. “I have powers that caused a building to go up in flames?” Your voice became quieter, a slight fear planted in the back of your head. “Yes” Lois answered, not trusting any other words to come out.

You looked up at your father, tears in your eyes. “You’re Superman?” Your voice was almost inaudible if not for Clark’s super hearing, he wouldn’t have heard you. “I am” He answered you, his heart breaking at the sight of his daughter crying.

“Why tell me now?” You asked them, trying to get yourself together. Lois moved to the coffee table in front of you, sitting on the edge. “Because we want you to know that we love you, just as much as your brothers and we always will. We want you to decide if you want to keep these powers or not” Lois explained, taking your hands in hers, wanting not only to comfort you but herself at the same time.

Clark sat next to you, understanding how you were feeling at this moment. He had hoped that he could be just as good as his parents when they told him about how they came to find him in the cornfields. He just hopes he isn't going to lose you now that you know. “I wanted you to know about my other job because you need to know that I understand you right now and how this could change anything and everything” Clark added, wrapping his arm around you.

Through the tears, you looked at your parents. “I love you guys. Thank you, for everything” You said, hugging your parents close. A large weight lifted off of the couple’s shoulders as they hugged their daughter close.

…

Ever since you found out the truth, you learned to control the previously dampened powers you have. You never kept it from your brothers or the people in your life seeing as your powers were in tune with your emotions. Everyone knew that if they saw a rain cloud over your head you were in a bad mood and vice versa.

The relationship with your parents had become stronger, now knowing why Clark was so absent in your life you made it your mission to cheer your baby brothers up every day. Like today for example.

Jon had broken his leg, the ten-year-old was upset that he wouldn’t be playing football for a good while. You knocked on his door, uncertain if your brother was awake. “It’s me, your favourite older sister” You called, hoping he would open the door. “Come in!” He answered, sounding deflated.

You walked in with a plate of chocolate and raspberry cake, his favourite in hand. Sitting beside the light grey cast you handed him the plate. “Thought you might want something to cheer you up,” You told him, handing him the plate and a fork. His eyes lit up like the sun as he gladly took the cake and shoved as much as he could in his mouth. You raised an eyebrow at your brother before a lightbulb glowed in your head.

“Jon, wanna see my new trick?” You asked Jon, holding out your hands. Jon, now finished his cake in record time, nodded vigorously. You took his hands in your as your eyes turned white like Storm. In a matter of moments, a gust of wind began to allow you both to float off the bed.

“This is so cool” Jon laughed, pulling himself closer to you. “Glad you liked it Jon” you smiled, hugging your brother.

…

You walked into Jordan’s room, a small tub of ice cream. “Any chance your super cool older sister can join in on the pity party?” You asked, understanding how your brother was feeling right now. “You came all the way from college to bring me ice cream?” Jordan huffed, closing his book loudly.

“Yes and Lori dumped me so I thought we could get fat together” You shrugged, jumping onto the bed next to Jordan and snuggling under the covers. Jordan took the spare spoon from you as you opened the lid of the rocky road.

“Social Anxiety? Must be a family thing then” You mused with a mouthful of ice cream in your mouth. Jordan looked at you in shock. “You have social anxiety? Since when?” He asked his big sister in utter disbelief. “Around your age, my powers reflect my emotions so when I get very cautious of myself around others and how I react to things. I don’t wanna cause the next hurricane by accident” Yout told your brother, his head resting against your shoulder.

“Can you make a tornado, please?” He asked you with his puppy dog eyes. You rolled your eyes as you held your hand close to the both of you. Using your index finger you started to turn it clockwise, a small tornado began to form. Now pinching your thumb and index finger you took more control over it, not wanting to destroy your house today.

“So cool” Jordan murmured, his eyes not leaving your little creation. “I will always be here for you Jor” You told your brother, kissing his head.

…

You stood next to your mother, holding her hand tightly. Grandma had died and your pain had been reflected through your powers. Rain and thunder spread across Smallville since your arrival. Every sob you choked, a boom of thunder echoed across the graveyard. In your free hand, a white rose pricked your clenched palm. Sam stood behind you and your family as you all threw the roses in after Clark.

“Control your powers” He whispered into your ear harshly. “Dad, she’s mourning” Lois scolded her father before you left their sides and went up to your father. “Dad” You sighed before engulfing him in a hug. “I miss her” You sobbed into his chest. “I do too” Clark rubbed your back, crying softly with you.

The entire day you tried your best to stop crying, to stop the rain. You stayed in the underground part of the Barn, not trusting yourself with control over your powers. That was until you heard a loud bang.

You ran up the steps, seeing the pipes had fallen to the floor. “Help!” Jordan’s voice called. You felt as if everything had stopped, time wasn’t moving nor were you. “Boys!” You screamed, rushing down next to the pipes. “(N/N), help please” Jon’s stained voice.

You kept trying to use your powers but it was like they didn’t even exist. “DAD!” You screamed, hands shaking as the tears poured. Clark came running in, Lois not far behind them. “I can’t…. I… my powers, they're not working. I… I can’t help them” You sobbed as Lois took you away from the pipes.

Clark threw them away from the boys, freeing them from underneath the metal. “See, they’re okay. Your brothers are okay” Lois soothed you, her tears mixing with your own.

“You knew and you didn’t tell us” Jordan shouted at you. You flinched at his harsh tone. They know about Dad being Superman, and that you and Mom lied for years. “Jordan, please” You begged him softly, the cloud going dark above you. “No! You lied to us! You’re supposed to be our sister and you lied! Sometimes I wish you were never adopted” Jordan shouted at you before storming inside the house.

You felt as if you had your heart ripped out. The winds picking up with your emotions. “(Y/N)” Clark called out but you didn’t listen, you used your powers to fly off, knowing that staying there wasn’t going to end well. Not until you could find the courage to talk with the boys.

…

You sat on the edge of a cliff, feet dangling in the air. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, the feeling taking you out of your sad state.

‘It’s your brothers’ Lois’s text said. You felt lightning in your veins as you used a thunder cloud to race you back to Smallville. The second you landed on the grass, Jon and Jordan ran towards you, wrapping their arms around you.

“It was… so scary” Jordan managed to say, gripping onto you tightly. Jon didn’t talk, only holding you close to him. “It’s okay, I’m here” You told them, hugging them both. You kissed their heads, silently praying that they were okay. “I’m always gonna be here” You told them, the skies clearing up above you.

It was late, Clark had gone to a Superman emergency, Lois was deep in a story in her room and the boys were standing outside yours, unsure what to do. Jon, who had a plate with a big slice of chocolate raspberry cake, edged Jordan to knock on the door who was holding a large pint of rocky road.

“No you do it” Jon whisper argued, with his twin. “Just because I’m not an alien doesn’t mean I can’t hear you two!” You called from inside, flipping mindlessly through one of your assignments. With a flick of your wrist, the door opened up with a strong gust of wind.

You looked up at your brothers, with an eyebrow raised, “You two okay?” You asked them. Jordan walked in first. “I am so sorry! I should have never said that about you being adopted it was so uncalled for. Please don’t stop being the best big sister in the entire universe please” Jordan begged you, holding out the rocky road. Jon had joined him with a sheepish smile, looking at his feet.

“Come here you two” You smiled, your college assignment forgotten. The boys immediately snuggled under the cover of your bed, content with their big sister. “You know, I’m in a movie mood. Wanna watch Avengers for the millionth time?” You asked them, using your powers to turn on the tv and grab the remote.

The boys nodded, resting their heads on your shoulders. “I love you (N/N)” The twins said in unison. “I love you guys too” You smiled.

…

“Looks like everything is working out” Clark smiled, seeing you drink the coffee Jordan made you. “Yeah. I think I might stay for awhile” You told your father. “What about college?” He asked you. “Well, most of my classes are online because of my course and I am a fast flyer, I mean I beat you in a race around the world” You lightly toasted, a smirl forming on your face.

“Well, I think you might need a rematch on that one” Clark smiled back, a familiar glint in his eyes. “First one around the globe and back does dishes” You challenged quickly before rushing out the door. Clark put his cup down before following your lead, leaving a note for Lois and the boys.