#The Filthy Kryptonian

[dairy-farmer]

You know what there's not enough off? Bat Stalking. Their fucked up, codependent love language. And! Not enough Messy Bitch-ness. Why ADMIT your feelings and have clear and open communication, when you could bury it niiiice and deep and keep it there until you DIE! Spy on them instead.

With their boyfriend.

Their kinky, kinky, Kryptonian boyfriend.

Who can TOTALLY hear you getting off to him fucking his boyfriend through the mattress. Can hear the slick sound of that probably expensive flashlight that is no where NEAR as good. Can hear the filthy praise they mutter, when he gets Tim to ride him. The envious sounds, when he eats Tim out.

Who is totally getting off on it.

Because naked? He is almost indistinguishable from his template. Does watching a young Superman fuck Tim DO it for ya? Bats? It clearly does. Which of us is driving you more insane? My tight ass and his hot puss?

How bout YOU Nightwing? Imagining the forbidden? Kal doing something he shouldn't with his best friends protégé? With Tim? Wishing you were HERE. Or one of us? Which one?

And, please, Hood. Let's not insult ourselves. You've wanted to rail Tim for years. Wanted Big Blue to rail YOU for longer. But you can't admit that. Let yourself have nice things. You're jerking it like your DYING, moaning and gasping like you're in HEAT, and we both know? You'd sooner die AGAIN then ever let yourself have a peice of this.

Then there's the stabby little shit. The lethal, pigtail pulling, little fuck. Get a good eyeful. Kon's never letting you EVER have a taste. He holds grudges. Hope being "the blood son" feels good around your cock, because you're NEVER gonna know how good it feels to fuck a REAL Robin until he BEGS.

Yeah... Kon REALLY likes it. Fucking at Tim's place. For... Reasons.

And Tim? He just enjoys the "absolutely destroyed", well fucked, afterglow and cuddles. Plus the take-out of his choice. Date nights are AWESOME.

-🐼🐼🐼

yesss!!!! kon knowing tim's family are there and watching as he fucks tim who has no idea they're being watched and listened in on all while kon is getting off on his smug feelings and the voyeurism!!

[asamiontop]

The mark of an excellent engineer is predicting the unpredictable. Anticipating how a user might misuse or abuse a product before they’ve ever laid eyes on it. Preempt the mistakes and the fringe use cases and design them into insignificance with failsafes and redundancies.

Lena is, by all accounts and conferred degrees, an excellent engineer. She designed the anti-kryptonite suit to withstand, well, everything. It’s built to handle abuse ranging from unplanned space flight to close contact with a nuclear warhead.

Most engineers don’t exactly take into account how their product might inadvertently abuse them, however. And in that respect, Lena is no better than the rest.

She watches Supergirl peel off that technically perfect helmet, not a splash of sickly green on her golden skin, and Lena expects to feel triumphant. Proud. Accomplished.

Instead, she feels affronted. There’s no other way to describe the physically oppressive tightening in her chest when the hero shakes out her hay-colored hair, helmet in hand. The headpiece comes off, gorgeously windswept curls tumble out of it, and Lena gapes as her last remaining brain cell goes up in smoke.

It’s like a goddamned motion picture. Down to the way Lena’s jaw hinges open, slack and completely outside of her control. Blonde waves cascade over the armor Lena hand-built for those broad shoulders and all her insides collectively squeeze. A wayward strand catches on a passing breeze and alights on a delicately flushed cheek, framing Supergirl’s handsome jaw. Lena huffs—at this point it’s just offensive.

She’s bordering on furious with herself for not considering the obvious danger in her design (irritatingly perfect hair, an ill-advised sapphic crush, and a glorified motorcycle helmet do not a productive match make). Unintentional harm or distraction to anyone—wearer or not—is simply an unacceptable failure mode in battle. Of course her irritation isn’t enough to keep her from raking her eyes appreciatively over everything that her suit emphasizes on National City’s beloved Kryptonian.

Lena’s debating alternative head coverings in her mind—throat still dry, eyes still roving, fingertips still itching to learn how soft those golden waves truly are—when Supergirl glances her way. She smiles and it’s like the sun catches on all of her at once. Light glints off her suit (Lena’s suit, that she made for her), illuminates her hair, dances in her smile and suddenly Lena understands why people worship her as a god.

The super is radiant as she walks over. “Lena,” she breathes, tucking the helmet under one arm. Lena’s sheer disgust with this entire cliché is the only thing that keeps her from moaning outright at the way her name sounds from that mouth. “You saved me.” Supergirl’s blonde head ducks bashfully and—oh, she gets to be cute now too? How dare she. A chuckle rumbles through the crest that Lena placed on her chest. “Again. You saved me again.”

Crystal eyes lock on hers and Lena’s awareness of anything outside those deep, searching blue flees her entirely. Struck dumb, Lena holds Supergirl’s gaze, chin lifted, until the hero finds whatever she’s looking for.

An irresponsibly cocky smirk curls at the corner of Supergirl’s mouth. It pushes her a step closer and the proximity shoots a wave of instability through Lena’s knees.

“Is there any way I can repay you?” The super says, voice low. Lena wonders briefly if she’s been transported to the set of a low-budget porno. As if on cue, her brain fires off three filthy responses in rapid succession. This cannot be happening. She swallows hard to keep those thoughts sequestered in her head where they belong.

Possessed by some force greater than herself (perhaps Luthor composure, roaring through her veins from a family she normally loathes to emulate), Lena straightens. One of her eyebrows arches and Supergirl’s smile grows.

She bites the inside of her lip thoughtfully and watches in delight as the Kryptonian stands up a little taller, expectant.

“There’s no need, Supergirl,” Lena purrs, right on script, reaching out to swipe her thumb over a smudge on the suit’s chest plate. Keen eyes track the movement, so Lena allows her touch to linger. She retracts her hand slowly and meets the hero’s eyes once more. They are eager, focused entirely on her, and a shiver of satisfaction bolts through Lena at the attention.

With a heavy flutter of her lashes, she drops her voice. “But now that you mention it, I would love to get my hands on that suit of yours.” She pauses, allowing the implication to swell in the air. “I have several ideas…” she casts her gaze down the Kryptonian’s front and up again, “for improvements I’d like to make. If you’d allow me, of course.”

Supergirl’s eyebrows near her hairline as she stutters, “Y-yeah, totally,” her voice a whoosh. Then she shakes her head, sloughing off her apparent stupor, and her grin is back in full force—sexy and blinding at once. “Seeing as this is your creation, I’d say I’m all yours.”

She pierces Lena with that clear-eyed stare. “Actually. Are you free right now, Miss Luthor?”

Lena bites down a smirk and savors the goosebumps that tickle the back of her neck. She nods once, quick and to the point. Supergirl’s smile blooms across her face, replacing the self-assured swagger with such genuine delight that Lena is battered twice with attraction and endearment. She mirrors the hero’s expression and loops her arm around the elbow offered to her.

They turn to leave at a leisurely pace, ignoring the long-suffering voice of Agent Danvers yelling after them.

“Hey. Hey! Where the hell do you think you’re going?! Ka—Supergirl! That suit is DEO property! Hey! Hey! Don’t you walk away from me!”

Supergirl laughs, eyes never leaving Lena’s as an agitated “motherfucker” echoes in their wake.

[yuwigqi]

After Tim brings Bruce back, he absolutely loses his single-minded, universe-changing focus, and without that tunnel visions, he falls into a deep depression, and his family notices.

Tim initially stays in his apartment, and never visits, and Bruce comes to visit (he got back to life and his son, his miracle child who chose him, who saved him, had been absent. Bruce needed to see him) and its a disgusting. Not like a pigsty, its not messy. It's filthy. Bloody bandages from past wounds are left on the ground, staining the carpet. There is a gallon of milk on the counter, open and easily soured, smelling vile. There are black stains in the sink that might be blood, or moldy liquid poured down the drain haphazardly. Bruce finds Tim in the bedroom, in a bed covered in literal weeks worth of crumbs.

Bruce immediately wakes him up, whose face is raw red from shaving without cream or water, his lips are chapped, and his eyes are red and irritated. Bruce rushes Tim to the ER, wondering if he's sick.

Bruce brings Tim back to the manor (Tim is so indecisive and passive he barely even questions it).

Alfred immediately puts some soup and ice cream in him, and Tim starts walking a little faster, talking a little faster.

Dick and Jason checked out the apartment themselves and come home concerned, and decide to move back to the manor full-time for the time being.

Dick constantly stays within one room of Tim, watching movies and anime with him (and Damian if he can rope him into it), and sometimes Tim pays attention, but occasionally zones out for god knows how long until Dick notices and wakes him up.

Jason tries to cheer him up with exercise in the gym, blasting Tim's favorite songs. Tim smiles a little. Then, while doing some crunches, little red spots appear on Tim's shirt and Jason panics, and before Tim can resist Jason pulls up his shirt, there are clear self harm scars along his ribs. Jason cries and holds Tim and sobs into his hair, until Bruce walks in on the seen, his second son crying over his bleeding boy, and for a second thinks he's walked in on a death.

Alfred does a body check, and Tim doesn't bother to deny it. He doesn't seem embarrassed. He seems so...indifferent about everything lately.

They know anyone with bat training could escape a psychiatric hospital, so they set up a plan to never leave him alone.

Jason and Tim spend their time watching superhero fandom YouTube. Tim loved it as a kid, and its comfort content for him. Whenever content on Tim's Robin comes up, Tim gets spacey, until Jason begins to critically analyze, and complement his work. "God, that strategy was ingenious. You outsmarted The Brain. At age 11? Jesus Tim." Dick gets in on it too. "You beat Cheetah? Fast as Wally, can scratch Kryptonians, can go hand to hand with Diana? Has my little brother always been such a badass?"

Alfred basically demands Tim come cook with him. When he first started in the manor, he and Alfred spent time in the kitchen often, but he fell out of it after his mom died. Tim's no good at baking, but he's really good with meats. Alfred buys expensive cuts of meat, and Tim learns how to tell each cut and its grade. He can cook it better than chefs in their 50th year. Tim tries to back out if, saying why he should learn a "useless skill." Then Alfred has Tim cook steaks for the family, (Alfred takes care of Damian's dinner) and at Bruce's first complement, Tim feels the warmest he has since his last hug from Bart before he died.

Cass comes by. One look at Tim's posture and she's stuck to him like a hair on a biscuit. She was never good with computers, so she has him teach her the basics. It's a trap to lure Tim into geeking out over new tech and spend hours making his out programs. She's able to hack with the best of 'em now, and more importantly, Tim and her have taken an online game design class, and are building a fighting game together.

At first, everyone thinks Damian keeps his distance out of "disgust for Tim's weakness" (Tim's words, no one else's). Then Dick walks in on Damian wreck his room in a crying rage. Damian feels guilty. He blames himself for Tim's depression. Dick knows Damian won't understand his bullying was due to his own trauma he's been working through, so he tells Damian to use his skills to fix things. Damian draws Tim fanart of Red Robin, which Tim is indifferent to. Then Damian draws him fanart of Young Justice and Tim smiles brighter than Damian has ever seen.

Things are slow. There are huge ups, especially when Kon and Bart come back to life. There are huge downs, like every time they deal with Ra's, or whenever Tim gets sick from his splenectomy.

By the time Duke joins, Tim's smiley, wide-eyed and bubbly, just like he was when he was 12, bouncing along in Dick's shadow. Duke is so shocked when he walks into Tim's room to find recent self-harm scars. Duke has flashbacks to a photo he saw while going through his mom's social work files one day of a girl who killed herself, and cries and screams, and Tim has to calm him down. Tim comes clean about his struggles, and promises Duke doesn't need to save him. Duke spends weeks and weeks as Tim's shadow, interning with him at Wayne E., playing Starcraft with him, and hanging out with the YJ4.

Tim is still "depressed." He always has a few bad days a month. His antidepressants are a permanent addition.

But he has a devoted father, a doting grandfather, three protective older siblings, and two younger siblings who look up to him with the stars and their eyes.

He lives.

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Last fic of the year!!!! (Poll Time!!)

If you are curious, here is a bit more information about each of these fics:

Your First Kiss With Jason Todd - Jason Todd x GN!Reader. It will be part of the First Kiss Series, a series showing what a first kiss would be like with each of the Titans characters. (The other ones can be found on my masterlist.) The series was originally intended to be very fluffy (and some others in the series will likely to back to being fluffy) but this part is going to be very, very angsty. And I am very excited about the ideas that I have for this. It's gonna be heartbreaking. Everyone please thank @star-mum she handed me the knife. So if you're not into extreme whump, don't vote for this one.

(Currently Untitled) - Donna Troy x Fem!Kryptonian!Reader aka The Rage Chemical Fic. This fic is meant to be structured like an episode of Titans, so while I have labelled it as angst, which it mostly is, there is tones of humor and I want to have some cute moments showing the reader's romantic relationship with Donna (pre-established) and her friendships with the other Titans. There is one particular person in my inbox who has been championing for this fic, and they are the reason I have started writing it - the reason it's on this poll. So shout out to you. If it doesn't win this poll, it's gonna be written in January.

(Currently Untitled) - Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader x Gar Logan. Smut. Again, thank Star for this one. Jaygar x Reader is so in my regular wheelhouse, and while I am eager to write this one, I am kind of hoping that the First Kiss fic wins the poll. But if this one wins (smut usually does) - I have big, filthy plans for this one. The visuals are already secured in my mind. As usual, bi Jason and bi Gar all the way.

[siremasterlawrence]

The Hero’s Erosion Of Free Will Part 2

Bruce Wayne is not expecting to see a short well built muscle super being flying through Gotham chasing after a alien space ship as he speeds up.

He is donned in a black tight shirt with gold and red symbol of Superman’s Kryptonian heritage Super blow up and imposed on the front.

He effortlessly speeding in to the air picking up speed he thrust forward into the sky with impact he approaches on the ship finally encroaching on the pilots.

Landing on the nose of the piloted ships his feet grasp sticking into the airplanes nose the impact of his weight shifts the airplane on a downward trajectory.

He smiles wide eyes, purse lips and he at fist punching into the tinted black glass of the airplane and flew in one hand punching the pilot.

The right flips into the air knocking him out in a quick succession before his attention is returning to the fact the airplane is about to crash into the water.

The sheer power of the crash sinking to the floor as it splashes shooting up into the air overflowing and everything comes in utter display.

The shadow of the aircraft travels on top of the filthy Black Sea of Gotham City landing as it hovers high overcasting on Super boy it was him.

Connor El hears his name in a quiet lower register tone emit from the jet he knows he can’t deny it was The Bat…Batman…Bruce Wayne.

The bottom private door to the bat jet slid to the side exposing to the world as Connor El is feeling a shame overtake his mind he is hit with those thoughts.

Constantly ramming in him for some reason when he settles in taking a seat a radiant wave of life flows through the sky from the heavens.

The wave tracks on to the ship distracting Bruce from the scolding session he was about to give to Connor El but they are soon transported.

The ship journeys through a portal in one huff smashing into the dark oasis of this new existence Bruce ponders for a bit he stops.

Is this the phantom zone? He questions his own sense of time and space he commands Connor to say put walking till he hits a both literal and physical wall.

A invisible wall to be precise blocking him

in this shifting dimension with the astral projections of Gotham and Krypton over and over again each imploding.

The floor of the room is super spinning out them of control leaving them in a blinding phase of dizziness backing them in to strange position.

They lost of track of each other finding each other after getting stuck in a maze of horror Connor came to the rescue seeing Bruce is mindlessly staring into one particular mirror

Bruce is relieving his parents deaths that in the alley images flooding his mind of the expensive pearl set his father bought for his mother shatter on the ground as the gun goes off.

Connor knelt next to Bruce wiping his tears, rubbing his shoulder and hugging his back leaving Bruce shaking as they kiss a little unsuspectedly.

“Where did these curtains come from?”

“Oh My God!”

“He got you too?”

“Clark what are you doing to my ward?”

“It’s just me Dick and my boyfriend Clark?”

“What about you too?”

“My boyfriend Bruce and I?”

“Nnnnnn”

The end

[supercap2319]

Clark and yn inviting steve for kinky threesome with clark and steve being the dom and yn being the sub

Steve wondered why he was invited to Clark and Y/N’s apartment as he found out that both confessed on wanting to have sex with Captain American. Steve was both shocked and turned on as well as they all quickly removed their clothes and Y/N found out very quickly at how dominant America’s Golden Boys could be. Clark and Steve, the nicest guys in the world, who would give you their shirts off their backs if you asked, were so dominating.

They would tell Y/N such filthy things as they fucked him any and everywhere. On the walls. The ceiling. Shower and bathtub. They weren’t sweet or slow in their fucking as they gave Y/N their full forces as they city didn’t stop shaking until 3 in the morning as they finally tapped out.

Clark and Steve drew Y/N a hot bath and gave him anything he wanted as they whispered comforting things to him before helping him to bed as they dressed him in only underwear so they could get him naked in the morning for another round of hot sex.

The Kryptonian looks at the Super Soldier and smiles. “We should do this more often.”

Steve matched his smile. “Yeah, we should.”

[phantoms-world-and-more]

Out of question, where did the idea of Superman hating clones come from in fanon?

Is it just an amped up version of him generally being neglectful for a while, taking a while to lend Conner a hand when he was homeless twice? The Kents adopted Conner and they've basically acted like brothers ever since...

He certainly is never weird about Damian.

Kara was weird about Conner for like an arc at one point (technically the New 52 Kon-El, by all accounts a different individual from Conner, even cloned from distinct people) because she was raised on Krypton and actually had a typical kryptonian bigotry against them before realizing that Kon-El wasn't created devoid of sentience to be purely a weapon for war and got over it. Does it have something to do with the view kryptonians had of clones?

Clark was dead when Conner first showed up and they basically worked together along with Steel until Conner joined Young Justice, so beyond seeing his as at most a teammate Steel trained for a bit and at worst a target of his constant paranoia over every action Lex takes, so there wasn't much that the idea could have come from in there.

It just seems strange to me that this concept was invented at all. Zod is right there. H'El is right there. There are characters that actually do hate Conner for being a clone already. I mean the comedic genius of Zod getting the upper hand on Superman for once only for Danny to beat him into the dirt because the motherfucker called Dani an 'unfeeling filthy copy' a week ago when he first broke out of the phantom zone and she went to the ghost zone to tell Danny to beat him up for it is masterful.

I'm pretty sure its for his negligence of connor

When fanfic writers need a villain but dont want to make a big fight they use what they have

And superman, who is considered to be incredibly strong and kind(in what ive seen, never read the conics) while being a a voice of reason and emotional

And people see flaws rather than the good so the negligence is what we latched onto, there's not alot of other heros that have complicated emotions that live in the grey area in morality while being a complete "good" hero

Personally i think it would be best used for a redemption ark in fanfics

This is just my opinion on this and while i dont fully know if theres something more my opinion is that people see flaws in good people rather than the good and thats what they focus on so the fandom latched onto it

I'm sorry if i offend tpu but thats my opinion

[edgecfeden]

cont'd from here for @superlustersnew52 !

there were plenty of positions kara enjoyed tying diana up in, the golden lasso keeping her bound fucktoy honest while she used her, but few could match this one, she'd found. diana was completely naked, hands tied above her head, her body fully available for the kryponian's pleasure. kara had her cape and half her suit on from keeping up her own appearances as this meager earth's supergirl, but she was naked from the waist down as she circled the tied-up amazon like a wolf stalking prey. with the massive length of her cock hanging heavy between her thighs, she knew diana likely wouldn't be able to tear her gaze from the object of her obsession.

kara smirked as she smacked the brunette's ass just to watch it shake, listening to diana's unbidden begging. "and yet, you still won't give up that cute tiara," kara purred, only half teasing. "we both know wonder whore is already a broken slut for kryptonian cock, constantly craving a taste… i don't know why you still pretend to be this other wonder woman character, always going out and saving the day." the blonde stepped in front of diana, cupping her chin with an arch of her brow. "you love being my filthy little wonder whore, don't you, diana? you know that's your real self."

[finalslay]

@weepedwords sent : ❛  if there weren’t so many people watching us, i’d already be on my knees in front of you.  ❜

they're at some rich gala, a charity benefit at a museum in metropolis. batman and superman are not present tonight — they are clark kent and bruce wayne, the reporter and the billionaire. the duo stands nearby one another, bruce nursing a glass of champagne when clark finally slides up next to him. it's surprisingly subtle, the younger man's attempt to approach without grabbing everyone else's attention. to the untrained eye, it may just look like clark approaching him for a short interview — but bruce knows the truth of the matter. he's seen that look on clark's face before ; it's one of want, even if the kryptonian thinks he's keeping it well-hidden. sure enough, after a moment of the pair just standing there in silence, watching the mingling crowd, clark finally speaks. the words are almost uncharacteristically filthy ; bruce's head turns in the younger man's direction, a brow raising slightly. he can't deny the appeal of clark's suggestion, hence why lips twitch into the slightest of smirks before replying, “ can you imagine the headlines? god, it'd be a scandal. ” a sip of his drink, calm and collected, all the while bruce subtly moves his free hand, only to slide it into the back pocket of clark's pants. “ i wouldn't be opposed to ... stepping away from the party for a minute. what do you say, farm boy? care to join me? ”

[smalls-words]

You Are Not Filthy

Summary: When Kara Danvers, aka Supergirl, has been exposed to Red Kryptonite, the DEO pulls out all the stops to bring her back. Including you. 

Pairing: Mom!Kara Danvers/Supergirl x Daughter!Reader (Reader is child of Mon-El and Kara, so Half-Kryptonian and Half-Daxamite), J’onn J’onzz x Reader (Godfather), Alex Danvers x Reader (Aunt), Lena Luthor x Reader (Mentioned)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Gunfire, explosions, broken limbs, blood, talks about being filthy because of genetics.

Requested: yes/NO

A/N: This was written with fem!reader. Translations are either within speech directly afterwards and/or implied by another person. This is also my first ever posted fic, so please be kind and send in a request if you’d like!

Words: 1,338

The streets of National City wailed in fear as police officers and civilians scrambled to get away from the destructive Kryptonian. Her heat vision lasered through a police cruiser, causing it to explode, before three black SUVs pulled up. 

Soldiers exited from all three, firing round after round towards her chest but none of them pierced her bulletproof flesh. Another SUV pulled up and out came Director J’onn J’onzz, Deputy Director Alex Danvers and a specialised shotgun in her hand as it warmed up to fire.

However, before she could, the Kryptonian flew past and disarmed all of the agents, twirling Alex around to slam her arm into the car and break it. She slumped to the ground, laboured breathing creating mist in front of her, and an evil chuckle came from her poisoned sister.

“Classic Alex… Always on time to ruin the fun.” 

“Supergirl… I wanna help you.” Alex whimpered, still holding her arm against her chest whilst she shook in fear. 

“Supergirl! Please!” 

“Doesn’t look like help to me.” Supergirl glared at the shotgun that had skidded out of Alex’s reach.

“NO!” J’onn charged towards the Kryptonian to defend the woman he considered his daughter, but Supergirl simply batted him away and he was thrown into a metal light pole. 

“No! Please… you have to stop!” Alex begged her, but Supergirl’s cheeks glistened with red veins and her eyes turned bright yellow with heat. 

“Nothing on Earth can stop me.” She spat, a malevolent pride in her words.

“You don’t wanna kill me…” The brunette whimpered, closing her eyes as she prepared to face death.

“Nahzhgehn i shesur! (Become your inner self!)” A voice boomed in Kryptonese from behind Supergirl, the heat radiating from her eyes coming to a stop.

“That’s what you taught me, ieiu (mother). Become your inner self and you will soar amongst the people of Earth.”

She slowly turned around to face you, only to cackle with laughter. “You? You think you can stop me? You’re a pathetic little half-breed. Your kind need to be put in their place.” 

“Then do it.” You dared, confusing Supergirl. 

“If you want to conquer the earth, you have to strike me down and break me until I can’t be broken anymore. We both know that you will have to kill me to win, because you taught me to fight back, even when my body screams to give up.” 

You opened your arms in a daring but vulnerable move, exposing your chest to Supergirl and a small hint of fear hid behind your grinning eyes. 

“Y/N, don’t!” Alex called out in pain, wincing from her arm whilst Supergirl took her chance. 

She flew towards you and gripped you by the neck, but your quick movements kicked her back into an SUV, shattering the glass windows. 

“Come on! Remember me, Ieiu!” 

“I am not your mother, filthy half-breed!” She spat, her heat vision colliding with your chest and knocking you back. 

“No? Well then, how about I give you a reminder?!” You tackled Kara and shot into the air, your battle carrying to the skies. 

You didn’t want to hurt her, but by not fighting her, you were getting beaten up yourself. Heat vision eventually began to sear your skin, punches eventually causing bruises, and you crash-landed into the road below, a crater forming beneath you.

Kara landed on the edge of it, her vision tunnelling to focus on you whilst Alex shuffled to grab her gun from before. You stood slowly, right leg clearly disfigured, and you spat out a gob of blood.

“I am Y/N Zor-El, heir to the throne of Daxam and the High Council of Krypton. I am the piece to unite the destroyed cultures, and you are my mother. Which means that I have no pleasure in doing this.” 

Alex threw the gun to you and you shot Kara in the chest, the red beam diminishing the levels of Red Kryptonite in her body until there was nothing left. You stumbled as the heavy gun weighed you down, your vision blurring whilst Alex called for a sun grenade as you fell into the darkness.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

As the light of the infirmary ward began to return to Kara’s vision, she remained as still as a statue. Her memories were slowly coming back, a side effect of the Red Kryptonite she was exposed to, and her heart shattered as she saw nothing but fear.

“Did I kill anyone?” She murmured to the heartbeat by her side.

“No. No, you didn’t kill anyone.” Alex answered, noticing the defeat in her shuddering torso. 

“It was so horrible, Alex. It was so bad. It was… so horrible. Every bad thought I've ever had, it just… came to the surface.” Kara sobbed profusely as she observed Alex’s broken arm.

“I couldn't stop it. I didn't mean it… I didn't mean what I said to you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry for what I said.” 

“Kara… you’re my sister. And I love you. No matter what, yeah?” Alex cooed as she brushed a tear away from Kara’s face.

“Where… Where’s Y/N?” Kara realised, struggling to sit up.

“Kara-”

“Where’s my child?” She whimpered, scrambling to her feet as she sped out of the door. 

“Where is she?! Where’s my baby?!” 

“Over here, Mom.” She heard your coughing voice echo in her eardrums and she sped to find the sound, tears already pouring down her cheeks by the time she entered the smaller infirmary room. 

“You’re…” Her hands cupped her nose and pressed against the corners of her eyes to fail at stopping more tears.

Your arm was raised in the air by a hanging contraption that held your left shoulder in place whilst your hand was bandaged thoroughly, your right eye black and bruised as your skin slowly healed over a few burns and your lower body was hidden by a warm blanket.

“I’ll be okay, Mom.” You murmured as she walked slowly towards you, her hands shaking.

Kara slumped into the chair beside your bed and her head fell into her hands, her face screwed into pain and guilt as a sob broke through her closed-up throat.

“I did this… I hurt you. I hurt my baby.” She whispered, wishing that she could take it all back but she knew in her heart that she would have felt the same guilt for not saving those students from a fire in their school.

They reminded her of you.

“Mom…” You offered your other hand and Kara took it swiftly, kissing it as she apologised countless times.

“I’ll be okay. I have you, Auntie Alex, J’onn, Lena… but there was some truth to what you said. I am a half-breed.” 

“But you are not filthy.” Kara whimpered, her bottom lip quivering as she kissed your forehead, treating you like you were made of porcelain. 

“You are beautiful, and kind, and strong, and I am so... proud to call you my daughter.” 

Tears brewed in your eyes as you listened to Kara, your mind brewing worry as she moved to stand. 

“I’ll, uh… I’ll go and get some sun lamps.” 

“You can do that later. Just… be with me, please?” You offered your hand again.

“Of course, inah (daughter).” Kara chuckled tearily as she sat back down, taking your hand softly once more and rubbing her thumb up and down the back of your palm.

It was moments like this that she saw your father in you - the kindness in your smile, the knowing look in your eyes, and the reassurance in your words that you would love her unconditionally, just as she felt for you.

“Thank you, ieiu (mother).” You whispered, shuffling over on the bed so that you could rest your throbbing head on her shoulders and fall into a peaceful sleep, not hearing your mother’s whisper. 

“I promised to protect you, and I failed. I’m so sorry, Y/N.” She kissed your resting forehead once more before crying herself to sleep, hoping that she could rebuild what that promise meant.

[uncouth-the-fifth]

Hello!! I was wondering when you'd write a general smut HC for Jon like you did for Damian

hell yeah, it's Jon day now 😤

when asked, Jon (after a lot of blushy fumbling) will claim that he had the normal teenage sex experience. He tried to have one, anyway. The occasional s/o had brought it up with him before, and Jon, desperately clinging to his human side for any sense of normalcy in his bizarre life, prematurely agreed. He soon finds out that he's barely compatible with humans in the first place. His strength alone makes the entire situation dangerous, since the premise to sex is a loss of self-control - Jon can't even stop himself from crushing his phone when he's not paying attention. Simple math.

So, he moves on to aliens. Being Superboy gives him lots of... access... across the galaxy, so he gets away with lots of things he shouldn't. Sneaking off to makeout with a girlfriend is pretty normal for teenagers, so Jon gets some points there. But flying behind Saturn to get some action in a spaceship? Not so much.

This makes Jon sound not so innocent, but he's still the gentleman we all know and love. These alien girls he goes around kissing are remembered by name and treated kindly every time Jon sees them again - he's not the type to play and toss. All he wants to do is learn about himself and other people. His sexual curiosity is definitely tied to his sense of identity, since it takes an entire saga for Jon to figure out what satisfies Kryptonians.

The answer: very, very little.

When he's hard, he stays hard, even after he cums. Jon's endurance is literally endless as long as the sun is up or light's touched him in the last day. His heat vision acts up when he's turned on, too, something he had to learn the hard way. He's probably never had a truly good orgasm in his life... (Until you, but will get to that).

But like every hard thing about being Kryptonian, Jon twists it into something positive.

Obviously, he's huge. He's aware how uncomfortable it can be for some people to handle something that big, so he's content with oral instead. Giving, that is.

Jon's mouth never tires, so he can stay between your legs until his breath runs out - which it doesn't. He picked up a couple handy tricks in space that make him a menace in bed. If Jon touches light enough and moves fast enough, his fingers can vibrate inside of you at super-speed. As he's tenderly kissing your clit, he'll blow icy puffs of air on your pussy to make you squirm. If you're cramped for room or can't find a good position, Jon can pick you up with one hand and hold your thighs around his face comfortably in the air. And if someone happens to walk in? A little super-speed goes a long way for your privacy.

There's other things about having sex that Jon learns to enjoy, too. His superhearing catches every wisp of a moan, every hitch of breath. He likes to remind you that his sense of taste is super, too ;)

Eventually, you start to feel guilty. Jon does so much for you but you're physically unable to do the same for him. Though it takes a bit of looking, there are solutions to this problem.

Star Labs discreetly develops a bracelet/collar that cancels out yellow sun energy with red. Jon's nervous to use it, but after the hundredth time you hear the little click as it snaps onto his wrist (usually before he makes love to you like a heathen), you both think of it like you would a condom or birth control. Though this means no super-vibration or limitless endurance, Jon makes it more than worth it for you both.

He's a sweet, impatient lover. Jon needs very little foreplay to get heated up, and he does a lot of whining and begging if you prolong anything. He'll scoop you off your feet and effortlessly drop you in his lap, where he'll pepper you with dovey kisses and giggle about how eager he is to feel you squeeze around him. Jon's just sassy enough to be considered on the edge of vulgar - but if you dare to dirty talk to him in return, he'll dissolve into a crimson-faced puddle and do anything you ask.

Years of being Damian's "sidekick" has given him the smallest degradation kink. One time, you'd smacked his ass with a kitchen towel and teased him for being a bad boy- only to end up bent over a counter and pounded into until your thighs were purple.

(And the spanking... the harder, the better. Pain is out of the equation for Jon, so all that's left is the nature of the act, of being punished and submitting to it. He's always forced to be the one in control. It's nice to relax and take orders for once. When he's not wearing that bracelet, the best way to turn him on is by clawing your nails up his back, over his neck, and into his hair. None of it hurts, but the sensation never fails to make Jon go berserk).

In bed, Jon's a very flexible switch. His default is bottom, since his powers always put him in charge in every other situation. After a harsh day as Superman, there's nothing he wants more than to go home and not be in charge for once, especially if it's him submitting to some filthy snuggling. Though he's always in a rush to get to the dirtiest part of things, Jon never fails to chase the bone you hang over his head. One x-ray vision glimpse of your lack of underwear makes him forget how to walk. The look you give him as you get out his bondage ropes - starved. A lot of it is about letting go and losing control for him, but just as much relies on getting some good ole fashioned attention. Jon loves to be treated like a puppy. Kiss him, coo at him, pet him, and he'll be yours.

His favorite positions are, without fail, the ones where he can hold you up. Jon's bumped your head against the ceiling plenty of times in the process, but he prefers to eat you out with your legs wrapped around his head, your whole body held up by two hands. He can maneuver you however he needs to in order to fuck you best with his mouth, and often it ends with your hands in his hair, pretzeled around his head and wailing while he devours you. Or, with your legs around his waist instead. It's a position that gives his strength the advantage, where he can easily kiss you and glide his cock into your core in the same motion.

Jon loves to take his time when you get to sex, but with his schedule and the constant calls for help, he will never mind a quickie. As long as you find an appropriate spot (aka: kitchen counters, behind the clouds in the sky, in the shower, against the front door before work, etc), Jon will satisfy you just as easily as he would with more time.

Along the way, Jon discovers that sex is his best outlet for liking his powers. After his first time, his confidence is permanently boosted. Behind those baby blues adored by the public, a dirty secret lurks: Jon knows precisely how to make you scream his name, and it has everything to do with why they call him the Man of Steel.

[daemoninwhiteround2]

I saw your tag about a "foursome from way back when" and I'm 👀👀👀

"They're drugged," Tim pants, reminding himself even as he can't keep himself from grinding up against the glass wall. It's cool and hard and what he wouldn't give to be able to get his hands on warm, living skin and-

Jason and Kon continue to ignore him. They are drugged, after all.

Bruce was off in space so Tim had invited Kon over, unable to continue to resist the urge to show off his den to the omega he's courting. Kon had... Maybe there were some wires crossed, some miscommunication somewhere along the line, because Kon had come dressed in work clothes and asked who they were staking out and well. Tim hadn't been able to just say, no, I invited you here to see my den, look at how well I'd be able to provide for you. So he'd privately thanked every god that he stalked kept up to date on all his family's cases and frantically texted Dick that he and Kon were coming to assist with his stake out.

It had actually been going pretty well. Jason had shown up and that had allowed Tim to make some leading comments - he knows that, like him, when people see Nightwing and Red Hood together, they assume the wrong dynamics. But Dick is good for Jason, and Tim could be good for Kon, he could, if he could just find the words to-

And then Kon had whispered that he saw weapons in the warehouse. Serious weapons. The type that the Bats really can't afford to let out into the streets. The warehouse had appeared deserted and so they'd all dropped down and that's when they'd triggered the trap.

Bullets had started flying at them from every direction - Tim had heard the distinctive sound of Jason's hood cracking - and they'd been driven apart and then-

A glass box had unfolded from the ground, a wall slides up the middle, divided them into Jason and Kon on one side and Tim and Dick on the other. Tim darted over and slammed his staff into the wall that seperated them. There's a dull clang and nothing. Not even the thinest of spiderweb cracks.

The bullets stopped and a bunch of people had melted out of the shadows, one applauding sarcastically before giving the usual supervillain spiel. Blah blah you Bats have interfered in my business for the last time blah blah blah I'm so evil and uncaring about other people so long as I get money and or power blah blah blah you'll rip each other to shreds.

That last one had been a new one and Tim had actually started paying attention.

Kon was hovering inches above the ground in the way he only did when he was anxious. Jason had ditched the hood, but he'd been wearing a domino underneath, luckily. He only had a couple of scratches on his cheek, he didn't have those before the fight so Tim guesses they must've been where the bullet impacted and cracked the hood.

And then there'd been a hissing sound and Kon and Jason's container had started visibly filling with gas.

The villain laughed. "Funny thing about rutting alphas," they said, auidbly gleeful. "They'll test down anything between them and a heating omega."

And that's when Tim had realised that there's must be some sort of cracks because he can see the gas seeping into their side and

And

And everyone always thinks that Jason and Kon are alphas but they're not.

They're omegas.

And omegas don't see other omegas as competition during a heat. They won't tear each other apart. They'll comfort each other.

Tim's smelt Kon's heat before. But never like this, never so immediate, never when Kon's in the middle of a full in breeding heat and Tim's rapidly descending into the matching rut. He smells amazing, like every good thing in the world but there's also something sharp, something, hah, alien.

Tim wants to fuck him so bad. Wants to fuck them both. Wants to see them whimper and whine and get fat with his pups.

Kon touches Jason first. Tim's faintly aware of cheers, the villain and goons must think they're about to get front row tickets to Red Hood vs a Kryptonian but

But Kon kisses him. Filthy. Open mouthed. Groans into it when Jason grabs hold of his ass and hauls him close and presses one thick thigh between Kon's.

Tim grinds up against the glass again and whines. He doesn't care if they're drugged, that's two of the hottest omegas he's ever seen in real life and they're making out.

Just like in his dreams.

Tim needs to be with them.

And then a big, hit hand grabs the nap of his neck and throws him across the cell. Tim slams into the opposite wall and slides down it.

Rutting alphas will tear each other apart to get to a heating omega.

And Dick and Tim are both alphas.

[herpronuonsarefemslash]

Teaser for “Where the Wild Things Are” - Part 1

More of this ongoing horny lunacy here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/46926720 ABO and soul-mark world where alphas significantly stronger than others and less well-behaved than in most stories, but no longer dominant. Seen as subhuman by many and legally discriminated against, they're either under house arrest if beta or omega mates will vouch for them or kept in prison-like fertility clinic holding cells...if they're lucky. ----- Much as thirteen-year-old girls might think otherwise, soul-mate marks are not romantic. Some people don't have to screw around with them at all, which is unfair. Half of the textual ones are filthy and ones like Lena's are heart-wrenching. It's not words, it's a shape. A face, burned into her skin as delicately as one of the Great Masters wielded a single-hair brush. One in a hundred thousand women has this problem, seeing a face but not a written mark. Those usually have a name, or a nickname, or some clue. Handsome. Female. Wild. A long neck corded with tendons. A slanted, toothy grin that pops the bottle cap off her fight-or-flight but doesn't spill it. It's a good scared, the idea of being fucked by her. Her soulmates' face makes it clear she's a fucking alpha and the first time she realizes this, when it really hits her, Lena sprints to the shabby bathroom and empties herself. How a boarding school this expensive has such shitty bathrooms, they've never determined. ----- She hears the thump of Andi's frame and then the slide as she sinks against the door on her side. Long fingers sneak under the gap and wiggle, demanding Lena's own. "You get a mark, Lena?" "Yeah." "Me too. A face." fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck "Uh, ah, a woman's face?" "Yeah. Absolute brick. Alpha, I think." ----- Alex slumps against her front door and groans. She can smell it—taste it—and Maggie's scent kicks her brain into memories of the taste of some Frankensteined vegan version of a mole poblano she had to learn from her grandmother because of her parent's efforts to dispose of everything Mexican in their heritage. Alex would have sworn the tofu clucked, Maggie had done such an amazing job. Her alpha needs her and hate groups and common knowledge be damned, that matters and that's compatible with Alex being a badass with a cool career. She can want that and want to be ground slowly into the blankets as Maggie rocks her knot in with all slowness her hormones allow and spills with a sigh. So much of it that Alex feels the sheer warmth spread through her guts for a half-hour. She can be her own woman and want to wrap her lips around the head just to hear the little squeaks 'babe' and 'good girl' and how 'Alex' is breathed out in sighing lungfuls that take forever when she picks up her pace and all Maggie has are moans. She's not able to. She's too fucked up with stress right now.Her wedding band feels more like barbed wire than a reminder of Maggie and Kelly's love. She wishes she could have came up with better wedding vows. Hell, she wishes she could have had an outdoor wedding rather than videoconferencing or her mom could have met her bride without scent-blocker vents and armed guards.

Maggie’s first rut was late—she’d assumed she was just a snarky beta—and three years into her and Alex’s relationship. At the time, they were team-flirting with their roommate, mostly to make the graceful, skittish omega duck her pretty little head and blush harder than anyone with a degree in sexual psychology should be able to blush.

In retrospect, that little game may explain a lot about Kelly’s sudden fondness for hot yoga in the living room. ----- Maggie has been so good and so patient on how her status upended her life entirely and now Alex’s hands are shaking on the knob and as much as she wants to waltz in there and drape her arms around her fun-size wildling’s neck, edging her until Kelly can come help after work, she is too fucking scared.

Not scared of Maggie. Never of Maggie. That’s what she promised right before ‘I do’.

Dropping Luthor that hint? That’s a dangerous gamble, and she knows it.

But only one prisoner they ever took made Alex feel so fucking sorry for her.

DEO Casefile #87153. Asset Kilo-Romeo-Yankee-Foxtrot-One. KRYptonian, Female Number One.

The only surviving female of her race, from what they can tell.

But unlike the world’s most iconic beta, she’s an alpha and subject to all the wickedness of that. Taken with minimal injuries and somehow, no fatalities. They brough her to Alex for analysis a few weeks after Alex and Kelly settled into the new normal, so maybe her opinion of muscular female alphas was a bit elevated… ----- CADMUS, probably. But maybe, juuuuust maybe, a trafficking ring.

Fucked up as it is, that’s the hope. That someone nasty took her and for use, not for dissection.

So if a one-percenter omega is blue-clitting it while she tears the planet apart looking and that lines up with Alex’s desire to make good on her I won’t let them hurt you promise spoken on her side of the glass to those wolf-like eyes that are so predatory but also so badly want to be tamed and rubbed on the belly?

She’s not going to kink-shame. Not one bit.

Glass houses and all. ----- This, though, this isn’t so bad. She’s not rutting, but if one zhriymin in the prison gets it, they all do. So they sent a zhraomin to her—her favorite one, with the tiny brown-pink spots on her skin and the pale blue eyes and red hair—and the zhraomin brought food!

She’s saying something in whatever language she speaks. Doing that thing they do where they pull their lips back when they’re happy.

She ignores Kara’s best, nastiest, scariest growl and makes that sound when they don’t believe something is real and it amuses them. Shakes her head. Her long legs slide over Kara’s and she slowly drags the sheet down while holding one of the...the…soft spicy things that come in the boxes! up to her lips.

Kara clamps both her hands on the female’s hips so she will stay and feed her.

[nightwhite13]

Hi, I hope this isn’t like annoying or anything but just wondering if you think you may finish the Lena and rhea story. I know it’s been like 2 years but it was one of my favs and I always hoped to see more. But I totally get if not, it’s been a while and what not. Anyways just figured I’d ask :) have a great day!!

not gonna lie, every time someone said they love my Rhea/Lena story it always makes me giddy because I literally wrote those filthy sin (affectionately) just for me and Vallern and never thought someone else is gonna be there in the dumpster with us lol (I mean I literally wrote one crack/humor (?) fic of them in my language)

Unfortunately, no. I wanna say i got writer block and how I will try to fight it and find some time to write again but really it's hard for me to keep writing while being jobless and not able to use my skill to earn some money, and it suck ass cause I already wrote the ending like years ago, just need to get there because I just realized the plot does not make any sense.

anyway, for you anon, I'll show you the snippet of said ending

Rhea just sipped her drink from the far corner of the room, looking after the young Luthor talking to some men, looking beautiful as always and clearly she didn't listen to anything the man said because she flash that "corporate" smile, in order to look polite enough so that people will not notice that she didn't hear anything they just say. When Rhea’s eyes caught Kara’s from across the room, the older alien simply raised her wine glass while Kara growled.

Of fucking course her son was busy with another woman. When will that Kryptonian understand that her son was just using her?

Few times Lena would look over to the shadow to find Rhea, and she sighed in relief when Rhea emerged from the shadow only to return into it again. It was like their little game.

After the party was officially over, Lena stayed behind, not really watching the crew cleaning up, just staring into the distance. When Lena looked over from her shoulder, Rhea knew it was a code for her to come out.

And she did.

“Well, that was a fun party,” Lena said as an opening. She smiled softly as she saw Rhea underneath the lighting of the ballroom. The alien was wearing the black tuxedo that Lena ordered for her. “You look beautiful.”

“I believe that term is more fitting for you,” Rhea pushed Lena’s hair from her forehead.

Lena blushed and looked down to inspected her own outfit. It was nothing special or glamour, and yeah okay it kind off showed off her boobs a little. ”Thank you.”

“Um, Miss Luthor,” one of the cleaning crew squeaked from behind Rhea. When she got the attention from the two women, she said. “We already finish cleaning the place and…”

“Thank you, you can go home.”

She looked at Rhea and then Lena. “Okay, thank you Miss Luthor. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas too you as well.”

When the crew finally out of the room, Lena cleared her throat. “Do you know how to dance?”

Rhea raised her eyebrow, tried to hide her jealously as she thought how Kara and those slimy men can dance with Lena in front of other people, out in public’s eyes. “Did you just ask a queen whether she know how to dance or not?”

Lena rolled her eyes. “I was afraid the moves maybe different from the human version of dancing.”

The alien stretched out her right hand. “Let me show you my dance moves."

Lena smiled and she took Rhea’s hand. She held her breath as Rhea touched her hips and automatically Lena put her hand on Rhea’s shoulder. They looked at each other when their grasped each other’s hand.

They both swayed slowly, as if there was music within this empty ballroom.

Lena shuddered as she felt Rhea’s hot breath next to her ear; she remembered all those time when she would bury her face in the crook of Rhea’s shoulder to muffle her moan.

“What are we doing?” The young Luthor asked softly, eyes fluttering with the barest touch from Rhea’s hands.

“I believe this is what you human called dancing.”

“No, I mean,” Lena put her right hand on Rhea’s chest to put a distant between them. “With our relationship. What are we doing? What are we?”

"Whatever you want us to be,” she said without missing a beat.

“I don’t know what I want from us.”

The alien smiled, already knew what would be the answer even before Lena said the word. She kissed Lena’s palm tenderly and put Lena’s hand down from her cheek. “Good night, Lena.”

Just before the alien open the door, Lena screamed.

“Wait!”

Rhea turned around and waited patiently for Lena to catch up with her. Until the young Luthor stood in front of her again, Lena said.

“Tonight.”

Rhea’s forehead crinkled.

“Just for tonight,” Lena gulped as she took one step closer to Rhea. “Let’s pretend that I know what I want.”

“And what is it that you want?”

“For you to take me home,” Lena whispered softly before she kissed Rhea.

“Call your driver and tell him to go home,” Rhea said after she released the kiss.

Lena blushed and she cleared her throat. “I already did.”

“Very well,” she pulled Lena by her waist gently. Both of them gasped when their body collides. “Hold on tight and don’t touch my crotch,” Lena blushed again. “At least not until we’re arrive at your place.”

Lena rolled her eyes and kissed Rhea again. “Take me home now.”

Even after they landed on the balcony for almost five minutes, they still stood there. Or more likely Lena was still being carry by Rhea, and they both busy kissing each other on every skin they could reach, leaving a trail of red lipstick and pink spots along the way.

No matter how tempting it was to have sex right there and then, the night was cold and Lena really wanted to out from her dress, and also to get Rhea out of her tuxedo.

Before she could say anything, suddenly she saw snowflakes on Rhea’s nose and that made the young Luthor looked into the night sky and said in awe. “The first snow,” Lena pulled herself down from Rhea’s strong arms and stood in front the alien.

“I will never understand human obsession with snow.”

Lena finally looked at Rhea and frowned. “You didn’t have snow back home?”

Rhea sighed, the topic about her home planet was hard and she would rather not remember how her once flourish world started to rot because of Krypton. “No.”

Sensing that Rhea doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, Lena just nodded her head. She watched how Rhea open up her palm and let the snow fallen into her palm, and the way Rhea was looking at it with soft eyes.

She was supposed to hate this alien, this bastard of a villain that used her to gain power. That used Lena’s vulnerabilities against her.

And yet…

Rhea blinked when she saw Lena’s hand was already at the top of her own. With a forehead crinkled, she glanced at Lena only to find the young Luthor was already looking at her with so much kindness and that one feeling that Rhea wished that was never true.

Because how could Lena fall in love with her after everything she has done to the young Luthor?

And yet…

Lena rose into her tiptoes to kiss Rhea’s nose and then smiled softly before she finally captured Rhea’s lips tenderly.

[scribbling-punk]

She Is The Sun - Chapter 2

Lena groans, exhaustion settling into her stiff limbs as she reaches the lake. She’s been hiking for hours, determined to reach her mother’s old cabin before nightfall, but the inky darkness is catching up with her. Lena grows more paranoid with each tired step, the supplies in her backpack weighing her down, but she doesn’t have time to stop. The cabin is safe, even from super powered beings from a different planet.

Being out in the open like this goes against all of her training, leaving her exposed to Supergirl if she so happened to be patrolling the skies. Other enemies, too, of which there are many, could pick her off like a fish trapped in a barrel.

The explosion behind her isn’t entirely a surprise, and it’s too far from her to cause any real damage, but it does piss her off. Lena is sent sprawling into the water, knees and hands protesting as her skin is scraped raw by the rocks around her. She spits the filthy water from her mouth and lays in the shallow water, perfectly still and waiting for a follow-up attack that doesn’t come.

Lena grits her teeth, grinding them harshly as she hauls herself out of the water. Her jeans cling to her, soaked and uncomfortable, chafing her thighs with every step. The Kryptonian is becoming a huge pain in her ass, and Lena feels more determined than ever to follow through on her plan. She can see Lex’s smug face in her mind, cruel and mocking as she once again tells him that she failed.

Read Chapter 2 early on Patreon.

[dollyreblogs]

So since Tahani is a hero and wants nothing to do with the League of Shadows, it's up to the Triad to bring their lady home, however...it's quite hard to do.

Daichi "delegates" everything by shouting orders to Taz and Waką, Taz is happy to follow them but Waką is annoyed by how he doesn't help, and it always backfires on them.

Taz has gotten stuck in a chimney, Waką has sent his snakes in but Tahani keeps befriending them so he glares at them (filthy traitors), and both of them have gotten their asses kicked by Alfred multiple times.

Plus, even if they did get their hands on Tahani, it's not like she's defenseless. She's able to beat a kryptonian, she can handle two assassin's that she fought and trained herself on multiple occasions.

"LADY TALIA IS GETTING IMPAITIENT!"

"Well, maybe if you helped-"

"What was that, Waką?"

"Nothing, sir."

"That's what I thought."

"....Asshole."