Hal Jordan: So Spooky, Are You A Little Spoon Or Big Spoon?

Hal Jordan: so spooky, are you a little spoon or big spoon?

Bruce: I'm a menace, a threat, a shadow vigilante who would beat you up so discreetly that they won't even know it's me. What makes you think I will care about cutlery?

Clark: he is the little spoon

Batman Fic Recs Feat. Identity Reveal

ALL of the fics are complete or oneshots. Mostly gen, but there will be a few with ships. I’ll mention in description if there are any ships :)

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He Knows by Ortholeine

“Timothy Drake is a civilian, a normal boy. Kind of. He's normal in that he keeps secrets and has some hobbies. Those secrets and hobbies, though, are a little unique...and completely, 100% revolve around the crime-fighting family of Gotham.

A good friend of the Waynes, Tim finds himself dodging his heroes' attempts to reveal their identities to him in a misguided attempt to keep the status quo. No one seems to want to let it rest, unfortunately for Timothy Drake.”

Funny, silly, goofy…. Exactly what I want to see in identity reveal fics.

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The Waynes, Damsels in Distress by hitthedeck

“Roses are red, violets are blue, Bruce Wayne and his kids get kidnapped every other week. Some things are just universal, undeniable facts of life.

Or, in which Bruce Wayne is still Batman and his kids are still Robins, but they keep letting themselves get kidnapped because they think it's funny.”

this one is on the list because it’s HILARIOUS. I love it so much.

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Plagiarism is Not a Joke, Batman by popsunner

“‘How old are you?’

Bruce very much would like to have the last two minutes back please, turns out, he does not want to trust them with his identity.

‘Twenty-three,’ He growls.”

I love rereading this one…. VERY funny

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Pretty Boys and Identity Problems by DarnGoshit

“In an effort to get over his crush on Robin, Kon pursues a relationship with a civilian Gothamite, Tim Drake.

Or, Tim accidentally Hannah Montana’s his crush... and it works?”

Tim Drake/Kon-El

Ah, secret identity shenanigans…

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Captain Marvel’s Adopted? by Len_suilon_mellon

“When Captain Marvel sends out a distress call, the only League member available is Batman. Bruce comes to his aid, but he finds out that Billy is a 10-year-old homeless orphan with black hair and blue eyes. Obviously, he makes the only logical decision and adopts Billy. Because it's Bruce—who's allergic to revealing life-changing information—the League is left in the dark.”

5+1 fic where the JL discovers Billy’s ID, really cute

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Every Fiber of My Being by navpike

“As much as Dick and his siblings have argued, Bruce has never budged on his "Keeping Secrets Policy". There's not a person alive outside of the family that knows the secret identity of any of the Bats. Not even Dick's boyfriend.
Dick understands the need for some secrets, knows that keeping their identities safe keeps them and their loved ones safe, but when he takes up the cowl, team dynamics aren't the only things that begin to change.”

Dick Grayson/Wally West

In which the whole secret identity thing causes many problems. It’s SO GOOD, I promise

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miss me? by envysparkler

“Jason’s plan to observe his family’s reactions to his resurrection…does not go as intended.”

kind of an identity reveal fic? It’s more the “Jason’s alive” reveal, but I’m going to count it anyway

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knockoff bat by impravidus

“5 times people noticed batman was acting differently + the 1 time someone found out why (+ the time someone finds the real batman)”

Dick Grayson/Wally West and Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent.

There’s a bit of hurt/comfort, but it’s really really good

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Rumor Has It by rotasha

“A rumor gets out about Bruce Wayne and he ends up coming out to the Justice League. This is news to Clark, who has been pining over Bruce for years.”

Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent

okay. So. I have MANY thoughts about including this here, and I could write a lot about how a super hero’s secret identity inherently has many queer themes, but I won’t get into that. I think it counts as a kind of identity reveal, so here we are.

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letter of complaint by envysparkler

“Batman finds himself captured by the new crime lord in Gotham, who has a bone to pick with him.”

one of MANY of my favorite fics where Jason comes back and reveals himself as the Red Hood

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hand in unlovable hand by batmans_cheerleader and leviathans_watching

“A sound caught his attention, and instantly Jason was poised to throw himself at whoever came through the door. Tense, he waited, but when the door creaked open to reveal not one person, but a whole team, he hesitated.

They were carrying someone none too gently along with them, and Jason could only watch, frozen, as they completely ignored him, dumping the person into the cell, not even wincing at the sick sound their head made when it hit the ground.

Jason barely had time to take in that all-too-familiar cowl before the door slammed shut, and he was alone. With Bruce fucking Wayne.

Nausea swirled in his throat and he forced it down. Puking in his helmet was not fun. And yeah, he knew that from experience. What kind of sick abuse was this? Or was it just an awful, awful coincidence?”

yeah. Just. Jason being forced to eventually reveal himself to Bruce when they’re captured together… I ate that shit up

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From the Shadows by Wolfsbanesparks

“All Billy Batson wanted was to survive a particularly rough week living on the streets of Fawcett City. The last thing he was looking for was a new family.

All Bruce Wayne wanted was to ask learn a bit more about his upbeat teammate under the guise of official Wayne Enterprises business. But he could never turn his back on a child in need. Especially one as surrounded by mystery as Billy.”

Featuring identity reveals from both Bruce and Billy. There’s a lot more to the fic than the reveals, but there’s a LOT of suspense leading up to them.

How is there not a superbat fic on ao3 where Bruce and Clark meet as Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent and realize they're soulmates (maybe something happens when they touch for the first time) and they both panic about having a civilian soul mate who, actually, they are unfortunately very much in love with because yes, they actually are kinda perfect for each other...

And then on the flip side, Batman and Superman are working together every now and then and once they get to be better friends they each find out the other has a civilian soulmate too and discuss what the best way to handle that is since there's not really a precedent for it?(at least it seems like only they seem to have that specific problem.)

And of course they can't use names, because that would give away their secret identities to each other, but Bruce says things like "My soulmate is just so... unendingly optimistic and nice. It's hard to feel like anything could be hopeless around them. You'd like them, Kal."

And Superman says things like "I think you'd hate my soulmate, B. They're kind of a show-off, a little too self-confident, but they have a really good heart underneath it all. They're definitely way out of my league, if you don't count me being Superman, but they always make me feel like I'm the special one of the two of us, and they doesn't even know I'm anything more than just some guy."

It takes them an embarrassingly long time to figure it out, and maybe it's not even because they figure it out, maybe it's just when one of them finally gets the courage to reveal their secret identity to the other?

It might also be funny if Bruce is trying to give Clark a hickey and can't, and that starts the suspicion that maybe Clark isn't all he seems 🤣

Batman figures it out, decides there's literally no risk now in revealing that he's Batman to Clark; and Clark is like "holy shit" and immediately confesses that he's Superman and Bruce is just all smug like "I know, I figured it out this morning"

That, or Clark sees Bruce with a broken rib or something because of his x-ray vision and gets all worried about it, so he tries to figure out how his soulmate got hurt. In the process, he finds the batcave and realizes that Bruce is Batman and immediately goes to find him and clear everything up and also make him get some medical attention because no way is his soulmate going back out on patrol with broken ribs 😡

Anyways I haven't been able to find a fic like this??? If it exists I'd love to be linked to it, if not I may just write it myself haha

The thing is, Clark doesn’t even like coffee. Yet there sits a shitty drip coffee maker, glass carafe and everything, on his worn linoleum countertop. The office was throwing it out, as they had recently upgraded to some single-serve machine (pods full of damp coffee grounds soon filled the break room trash can, and Clark has to hold back a gag every time he passes it) and was giving away their old one.

Clark stares at the chipped black paint on the coffee maker from his bed. Gentle morning light filtered through his curtains in his studio apartment, and Clark turned to watch how the glow and shadows played along Bruce’s bare back. HIs hand starts reaching out of its own accord, determined to feel if the sunlight had warmed Bruce’s skin. But millimeters above a scarred, broad expanse, Clark stops and lets his hand hover.

Because him and Bruce? They don’t do that. There’s no loving caresses, no morning kisses with horrible breath. Each touch is purposeful, yanking off shirts and ripping down zippers. There’s slamming against walls and hungry hands, and, if Clark is really lucky, rough kisses and wine-stain marks left on his neck. Bruce is, if nothing else, an efficient man, so Clark knows why they do this. Bruce will come in after patrol, peppered with bruises, and push Clark against the wall. Or Clark will hover over the entrance to the Batcave after flying halfway across the world for a tsunami, screaming of those he could not save ringing through his head, until Bruce will let him in. They aren't gentle, and they aren’t romantic, and Clark has almost gotten used to having this. Tantalus finally gripping onto the fruit to take a bite, and having it yanked away after the first taste.

Because he wants it all. He wants to cook for Bruce in the early hours of the morning after patrol. He wants to wrap gently around him in bed, for no reason other than he wants to be close, and he wants forehead kisses. He wants to soothe Bruce from nightmares and have dinners with Bruce’s kids. He wants Bruce to look at him with a soft smile and gentle eyes.

He wants to make Bruce coffee in the morning. 

And so the coffee maker sits in Clark’s kitchen, glass glinting as if to make sure Clark can’t ignore it. 

Clark sighs and lays back in the bed with a thump. He glances over to Bruce, sheets pushed around his torso and the rise and fall of his hips,  If this is all he gets, he will gorge himself on these small moments. Clark zeroes in on Bruce’s heart rate (something that is halfway to an obsession at this point. He’ll find himself reaching for the steady beating multiple times a day, just to check, he tells himself. Just to check.) and realizes the tempo has increased too much for Bruce to still be asleep.

Clark doesn’t rouse him with doting kisses on his neck, or wrapping his arms around his waist. He doesn’t thread his hand through Bruce’s foppish hair and he certainly doesn’t run his fingers lightly down his back.

So Clark waits. He glances around his room, something to distract him from gazing at Bruce with what he is sure is an entirely too honest face. His eyes catch on the glare of the coffee-machine in the kitchen once again and he feels his heart pick up its pace.

It was an impulse decision to bring it back to his apartment, fueled by some pipe dream that maybe he could be something for Bruce besides a stress-reliever. He regrets it immensely. Every time he saw it, it was a stark reminder of what he couldn’t have and hopes that would never be realized. He should just throw the damn thing away. Clark rubs his hands over his face and sighs heavily, then glaces over to Bruce. Soft grey eyes peer up at him.

“G-goodmorning,” Clark stammers, feeling caught.

“Goodmorning.” Bruce says, low and even. 

Neither of them move, and for a moment the two meet eyes. In moments like these, where Clark is not only looking, but he’s being seen, that he has hope. He feels it flutter in his chest now as he takes in Bruce’s pillow wrinkled face and sleep-laden expression. 

Clark wants to be brave in love. He wants to reach out and try and not be ashamed if he fails. He wants to stand on that precipice and see if he’s caught when he falls. And as Clark stares, he smiles gently, and swears he sees something reflected in Bruce’s eyes. Bruce breaks contact and looks away, and the moment should be gone. The ache in Clark’s chest should dissipate, and yet he can see a light flush in Bruce’s cheeks.

Maybe Clark can be brave. If Bruce doesn’t leave, if he stays in the bed for one more minute, Clark will ask him. 

So Clark waits, counting silently along with the beat of Bruce’s heart. He stares up at the ceiling, the glow of sunlight trapped in his curtains, down at his hands. He avoids and he waits.

Bruce shuffles to sit up in bed around the 45 second mark, and Clark’s heart drops. But Bruce simply props his pillow up and lounges, glancing over.

“Clark,” Bruce clears his throat. 50, 51. “Are you..alright?”

Desperate to not lose count, Clark holds up a finger. 58, 59, 60.

He finally turns and faces Bruce, only to see a softly furrowed brow and concerned eyes. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

His heart drops and Clark wants to be brave. He can feel each word lodged in his throat, ready to be spit out, and distantly he’s aware that he is simply about to ask if Bruce wants coffee, as any mid-westerner raised properly would. But he knows Bruce, despite the distance the vigilante tries to create. He knows what this invitation would mean to both of them.

You are the ledge I leap off of, and you are the ocean I fall into, he thinks.

“Bruce, would you like some coffee?”

Bruce schools his expression immediately and Clark feels the wind whipping his clothes as he falls.  Clark glances down at his hands curled in his lap, and he waits and he waits. He hears Bruce clear his throat once, twice.

“I would.”

Clark feels a grin lift his lips, unbidden, and he laughs a gentle huffing thing.

“Yeah?” He looks over at Bruce and sees a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Let me, um, let me get that started then.”

He lifts the sheet and quickly walks over to the nearest pile of clothes (he may have superspeeded a bit) to grab a shirt. He throws it on and walks towards the kitchen, hearing a shout of, “It better not be that awful bottled shit you drink, Kent!”

Clarks laughs again, giddy, and yells back, “Shucks Bruce, I had just picked some up at the gas station for you!”

CLark moves around his kitchen, grabbing a mug and the bag of grounds he had picked up the day prior, before moving over to the coffee machine. His coffee experience is limited to glass bottles of cream and sugar with the barest hint of coffee in only the direst of circumstances (days of no sleep or after battles with kryptonite), so he tries to emulate the movements he’s seen at the office. He dutifully fills the carafe with water and pours it into the machine, then reaches over to grab one of the filters he had stolen from work. After successfully filling the filter with grounds, he reaches over to flip the switch and … nothing. He hears a teasing huff from behind him.

Bruce leans against the counter and Clark marvels at how quietly the man moves. Bruce forwent a shirt, standing only in boxers. Clark stares for a moment, taking in sharp hip bones, a stark v-line, and pale skin before realizing Bruce had spoken.

“I’m sorry?” Clark asks and tears his eyes away back to safety.

Bruce huffs once more.

“I said the machine wasn’t plugged in.”

Clark flushed and quickly went to plug it in, fumbling on the way there. He tried once more to push the button, and lo and behold, the machine started with a small whirr. Coffee collected and dripped into the glass carafe, the sound filling the silence left in the kitchen.

The light had shifted to something brighter, heartier as it fell through Clark’s windows. It hit the side of Bruce’s face and Clark let himself look unabashedly, for once. He felt almost hedonistic, basking in the presence of a sleep-warm Bruce and the morning light.

“So you’re a big coffee drinker, huh?” Bruce said, a smile playing at his lips.

“Rao, no.” Clark protests. “I just thought it might be nice for when I have, uh, guests over.”

Clark can see the ghost of a smirk and has never felt more transparent. He takes the leap.

“You’ve never stayed.” 

“You’ve never asked.” Bruce replies and the two let that hang in the air.

“I wanted you to一 want you to.” Clark breaks the silence with a sheepish smile. “I just never thought you’d want the morning-afters.”

Bruce moves to grab a mug from the counter and starts to fill his cup up. He takes a sip, and Clark knows that the coffee is too damn hot just as he knows Bruce needs a second to process. And he’s more than happy to wait.

“I wasn’t sure of the parameters of … this. So I erred on the side of caution.”

Clark stares at him for a moment, trying to decipher what Bruce meant. Reading Bruce has become a skill (an artform) that he’s honed over years. He tries to rid himself of a hopeful bias as he discerns what Bruce meant, but it almost sounds like一

“I was happy to take what I could get too.” Clark says softly. He can feel every desire he has bubbling in his chest, fueled by hope. He wants to say it all, but he swallows down his words. He couldn’t break this fragile moment. Now was not the time. But there would be a right time, Clark knew now. 

They let the minute stretch quietly, both content. Bruce takes another sip of coffee and grimaces.

“Clark, this is terrible.”

Clark laughs, a bright, surprised thing and looks over at Bruce. Both men are smiling, carrying a lightness that Clark hadn’t seen before. 

You are the ledge I leap off of, and you are the ocean I fall into, but you are the hand I grip as we slip off the edge. Clark thinks.  

I think Bruce would start wearing his children’s merch and it would backfire horribly

He buys a whole shipment of shirts, mugs, bags, etc because he loves his kids and he’s so proud of them it hurts.

The day after it arrives, the manor dissolves into a cold war. Long held alliances snap in half, and tentative truces break down. Damian is staring hatefully at Dick. Jason’s glaring at Tim like he wants to recreate Titans Tower. Bruce has no idea what set them off.

After a week of this, Bruce is at his wit’s end. None of his kids will talk to him, so he goes to the bat computer for some well intentioned stalking. Except- what’s this? There’s an unnamed file, hidden in the depths of the computer. Bruce, having great respect for privacy and personal space, immediately starts to crack it. It’s- a spreadsheet.

The two categories are his children’s names and the type of merch (hat, pin, fridge magnet, etc). With a grim and dawning horror, Bruce realizes that his children are keeping track of how many times he wears/uses their merch and is using it as a favoritism competition. There’s a hot debate about if the yellow bat symbol should belong to batgirl or to black bat. Murder threats are sprinkled liberally in the annotations.

So Bruce comes up with a plan- he’ll create his own spreadsheet that cross-references with his calendar to ensure that he wears/uses everyone’s merch equally. No favoritism accusations if it’s a rotating schedule, right?

Bruce is too tired to change before flopping into bed one night, and comes downstairs wearing the same shirt. The breakfast table explodes.

Bruce gives up and goes back to wearing Superman merch.

Who is the best animated Batman? Can the Supermen convince you that it's theirs? (Alt: Who is the most whipped animated Superman?)