#kryptonian reader

[gatorbites-imagines]

So we all agree that Kryptonians can purr right? Humans just can't hear it but what about viltrumites? They also have heightened sense right, so theoretically they should be able to hear it.

Now imagine Kryptonian!reader with the petcvincibles, like come on, they'd crave that!!!!!

I like to think they can hear it, in a strange way. Like, viltrumites have better hearing than humans I think, and if they couldn't physically hear it, then they'd feel the vibrations somehow. Like, straight up feels the soundwave vibrations. Would also notice how they become so much more calm when Kryptonian reader is at peace, cuz the readers purring acts like cat purring.

If they could hear it no problem, then they'd want to make the reader purr more and more cuz, first, it's a sign that you are pleased (with life, with them, with the situation), and two, it's like nonverbal praise right? It's a confirmation that they're doing something right and you like them.

They all fight on who gets to lay on the readers chest when he's purring cuz they all wanna just smush their face into the readers pecs (or between them) and just zone out, completely turn their brains off and just enjoy the purring like a brain massage.

Readers purring would reach all of them if they're all in the same room, but laying on his chest is just the best seat, ya know?

I like to think reader purrs to comfort them too, when they get worked up or way too murderous, then holding the vincible and purring a lil bit gets him outta that headspace, somewhat.

On another note. I've been thinking about giving the vincibles belly rubs and chin scratches all day. Sighs dreamily.

[annlyticalarchive]

CHAPTER TEN: A Week of Normal

”You will be different, sometimes you’ll feel like an outcast, but you’ll never be alone”

Mark Grayson X Kryptonian/Clark Kent! Reader

Prologue|Chapter Nine|Chapter Ten (Here)| Chapter Eleven

w/c: 4.8k

a/n: the buildup of calm before the storm. but hey, Murphy’s Law needs to show up sometime

“Mark.”

“Mm.”

“Mark.”

“Mhm?”

“I need my arm. I need to type.”

You and Mark were in your apartment, sprawled on the couch. Jimmy had left to grab lunch with Lois, both of them shooting you catty, knowing grins on the way out. You’d decided to stay behind, determined to get some actual work done.

Which would’ve been easier if Mark weren’t half on top of you, one arm wrapped around your waist and pinning your dominant arm to your side like he was trying to merge into your ribcage.

“The four of us agreed to get work done,” you reminded him, craning your neck to glare at the crown of his head.

“We are getting work done,” he mumbled, flipping another page in the book he'd been slowly parsing through for the past hour. “You’re thinking about writing. That counts.”

“No it doesn’t. I need my hand.”

“No you don’t. Just type with one.” He smirked and tightened his grip slightly. “You’re Superwoman. You can type fast enough with one.”

You gave an exasperated sigh, then wriggled your arm free despite his indignant whine. He shifted to lay more across your torso instead, clearly sulking, but still made no move to leave the couch.

“What’re you writing about?” he asked after a beat, finally looking up at you. His lashes were thick and his eyes soft. Not quite puppy dog eyes, more like a concerned hamster or a sad hedgehog.

You tried to keep your face neutral. It only half worked.

“Political corruption,” you said as you returned your fingers to the keys. “Lois is covering those Frankenstein rumors.”

“Frankenstein?” He blinked. “Like the monster?”

“I guess?” You shrugged, still half confused by Lois’s explanation. “Apparently there are families not getting the remains of soldiers back. Just nothing. It’s only started happening recently. People are saying the government’s been collecting them. Experimenting.”

Mark frowned, setting the book down on your knees and sitting up straighter. “That sounds really messed up. You think it’s real?”

“I don’t know. Lois thinks there’s something there. She’s deep-diving into it. She’s already three FOIA requests in and managed to get a source to call her back.”

“That’s basically confirmation,” he muttered.

“Not exactly,” you said, clicking a few tabs closed. “But it’s smoke. Where there’s smoke—”

“—There’s a conspiracy,” he finished with a small smile.

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Pretty much.”

He tilted his head, leaning against the couch cushion to get a better look at your screen. “And what about your piece?”

“Local rot,” you said. “Fake charities funneling campaign money. Politicians pocketing money from state construction companies. Big-city grime that never gets a 

spotlight. But if I put one on it...”

“Someone’ll care.”

You nodded. “Hopefully.”

Mark nodded along, then glanced down at his book, one of his dad’s ‘sci-fi’ books. He’d been trying to make sense of them lately. Every few pages, he looked more and more conflicted.

“I keep reading these and trying to figure out what’s real,” he said. “He makes himself look like a hero, but sometimes there’s these slips.”

You paused your typing. “What kind of slips?”

He flipped to a dog-eared page and held it up. “This one, he talks about grieving a comrade. But he doesn’t describe them, not as a person. Just their usefulness.”

You stared at the page, then back at him. “He didn’t think of people as people.”

“Not even other Viltrumites, sometimes…” Mark said.

The room went quiet for a long moment. You closed your laptop slightly, giving him more of your attention.

Mark leaned back into you again. His head found its way to your shoulder, and you let it rest there, your hand brushing lightly through his hair.

“You know,” he murmured, “I hope they weren’t like yours.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Your people. The planet. I hope they weren’t like my dad’s.”

You were quiet for a second, then smiled a little for him. “It’s gone. Whatever it was, whoever they were… they don’t define me.”

“Still. I hope they were better.”

You nudged his temple gently with your own.

Mark’s shoulders relaxed against you, and for a while, the only sound was the soft ticking of your apartment clock and the hum of traffic far below.

“…Still think you need a mask when you’re out, though,” he added suddenly.

You snorted.

“Lenses for the wind,” he offered, voice teasing.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“Never,” he said with a grin, tilting his head up to look at you again. “I’m going to win this one, eventually.”

You hummed noncommittally and leaned over to press your forehead, then your lips against the top of his head.

Mark jolted then froze like a man struck by a lightning, just for a second, before he visibly melted into you.

You didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the afternoon. Even when Jimmy and Lois burst through the door with armfuls of takeout.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Tag!”

Oliver chimed as he slapped Mark square on the back and took off running again. Mark groaned dramatically, slowing to a stop and watching his little brother dart across the yard like a greased-up lightning bolt.

“You’re bad at this!” Oliver yelled over his shoulder, clearly delighted with himself.

You stood by the back door, two plastic water bottles in hand. The afternoon sun was high and bright, the kind of sticky summer heat that clung to everything and made even the grass feel like it was sweating.

Miss Debbie was out, Mark hadn’t said much about it, just that she had errands and he was on Oliver duty. He’d asked if you’d come help, claiming he needed “extra hands,” but judging by the way he kept smiling whenever you handed him something or sat close, you were pretty sure this was less about supervision and more about spending time with you.

Not that you were complaining.

Currently, they were on round fifty-seven of a game that was somewhere between tag and capture the flag but involved absolutely no flags and wildly inconsistent rules. You weren’t sure how it was scored. If it even could be scored.

You could see Mark slowing down, not from lack of enthusiasm, but from sheer heat. He looked about one more lap around the yard away from face-planting into the lawn.

“Isn’t there a game where I can just lay down on the floor?” he groaned as he jogged over to you and reaching for the water bottle you held out.

“Mark Grayson, ladies and gentlemen,” you teased, “Protector of Earth, defeated by a seven-year-old.”

Mark uncapped the bottle, but before drinking he pressed it to his forehead with a relieved sigh, as if this plastic cylinder of lukewarm water had saved his life. You handed the second bottle to Oliver, who barely took a sip before shouting like he’d had an epiphany, “Hospital!”

Mark blinked at you like you might have the answer. You just shrugged and echoed cheerfully, “Hospital, Mark.”

“Okay, I don’t know what that means, but it sounds like a trap,” he muttered.

Oliver was already rushing away, motioning dramatically. “You have to come with me! You’re hurt, you broke your leg!”

“I—what?” Mark blinked down at him. “When?”

“Ten seconds ago! When I tagged you!” Oliver gestured wildly to the grass, where a stick now lay, apparently marking the site of the imaginary injury. “You fell and then you broke your leg and now you need surgery!”

“I didn’t fall, you didn’t make me fall!”

“That’s not my job!” Oliver insisted. “I’m the doctor, not gravity!”

You snorted into your bottle, and Mark sent you a flat look over his shoulder.

“Oh, come on,” you said, “go get fixed, mister.”

“I don’t know why I brought with you,” he mumbled as Oliver grabbed his hand and started tugging him toward the plastic patio chairs, one of which had now been converted into an imaginary hospital bed.

“Because you like me,” you called sweetly.

“Unfortunately.”

You grinned and sat down in the grass, watching Oliver poke and prod at Mark’s leg with a plastic ruler he’d ran inside and pulled from his school supplies, as well as an armful of other ‘supplies’.

“This might hurt a lot,” Oliver warned seriously.

Mark visibly braced himself, as if he was expecting Oliver to just start hitting him with the ruler. “Awesome.”

“Wait,” Oliver said, squinting at the ‘injury’. “There’s a bug in there.”

“A bug?” Mark echoed.

“Yeah. It’s why your leg broke.”

You bit your lip to stop from laughing.

“Oh, okay, so now I’ve got bug bones,” Mark muttered.

“I’m afraid it’s common for heroes with goggles.” You piped in, unhelpfully. “Bugs get confused and think you’re one of their own.”

Oliver gave him a proud pat on the knee. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix your leg.”

He proceeded to slap a random assortment of cartoon Band-Aids onto Mark’s pants, then held up a juice box like a serum.

“Drink this. It’s my special formula.”

Mark took the juice box with solemn acceptance. “I’m healed.”

“Good.” Oliver turned toward you. “He has to rest for six hours.”

“Oh no,” you said, pretending to be shocked. “He’ll have to stay inside in the AC and eat snacks.”

“The horror,” Mark added flatly.

Oliver turned back to him. “But you still have to play again later. Because I’m winning.”

“I don’t even know how you score this game!” Mark cried, waving his hands in frustration.

Oliver pointed a finger squarely at his own chest. “I make the rules. Big brothers can’t win.”

You burst into laughter.

As Mark groaned and sunk back into the lawn chair, you stood and walked over, brushing your fingers through his hair as you leaned down to press a quick kiss to his forehead. He looked up at you, and even through his mock suffering, you could see the spark in his eyes.

“Alright, inside you two, I’ll even turn some juice boxes into icicles to cool off.” You offered as you stood straight and walked inside.

Oliver yelling as he sprints after you, “Icicles!”

Mark simply let out a tired huff of laughter as he pushes off the deck chair and follows the two of you back inside.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Thanks for coming,” you said, slinging your arm out. The disk of metal scrap went soaring across the open field like a shot, and not even a second later, a white blur launched after it, your new dog tearing through the air like a comet. “It means a lot to us.”

“Of course,” Mark replied, standing comfortably at your side. He chuckled as Krypto skidded to a halt, proudly returning with the flattened piece of scrap hanging from his jaws. “You’ve had dinner with me and Mom tons of times. It’s about time I met yours.”

“I know,” you said, brushing your hair back as Krypto dropped the disk and immediately sat down, tail wagging. “But we both lived in the city. Smallville’s a good bit away. So, thanks.”

He didn’t answer right away, just looked at you with that half-lidded fondness that made your stomach flip. Then he turned and whipped the disk back into the sky. Krypto yipped and bolted after it again, leaping over a fence post eagerly.

“You nervous?” he asked gently, his eyes still on the dog but his voice focused entirely on you.

You took a breath. “A little. I mean, they’ve met you before. Just not like this.”

“Like my shirt’s tucked in?”

You snorted. “No, like— like my boyfriend.”

Mark blinked once, then turned fully toward you, a smile breaking across his face. “I mean, I’ve been calling you my girlfriend for a while now.”

“I know.” You nudged his shoulder. “But it’s still different when it’s Pa asking you questions about your intentions while busting out his old shotgun.”

Mark paled slightly. “Wait. He’s not actually going to—“

“No, God no,” you laughed, “but you believed me for a second.”

“I did. I really did.”

Before you could keep teasing him, the sound of screen door hinges creaked behind you.

“Dinner’s ready!” your Ma called from 

the porch, waving a towel in one hand.

Krypto was already sprinting back with the disk when she spotted him. And she smiled and waved at him too. Ma and Pa had been taking care of him since Jimmy told you that the apartment was not pet-friendly, much to your despair.

“He’s housebroken, right?” You asked lightly.

“We’re still figuring that part out,” She admitted.

Mark leaned in. “That’s a no.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, trying not to laugh as you followed Krypto and Mark back up to the porch.

Inside, the house smelled like warm bread, roasted vegetables, and something sweet baking in the oven. You’d never realized how deeply comforting the scent of home could be until you’d been away long enough to miss it. It wrapped around you like a blanket the second you stepped in.

Your Pa was setting plates down on the table when you entered. He looked up, nodded once at Mark.

“Evenin’,” he said simply, but you could hear the difference in how he normally greeting Mark. This one was harsher in a way.

“Thanks for having me,” Mark said, standing straighter.

“Thanks for giving us a heads up so we make enough food this time,” Pa replied without missing a beat. Then he cracked a small grin.

Mark flushed. You nearly choked on your own laugh.

“Pa,” you muttered.

He shrugged. “Just saying.”

Dinner was lively. Krypto sat obediently near the kitchen door, occasionally thumping his tail on the floor when food was passed around. Mark, bless him, did his best to eat slow and act like he hadn’t been struggling to even stay in college. Your Ma asked him about school, what he had planned to do. Pa asked about your work.

The normalcy of it all made your chest ache.

At one point, you looked up and found your mother watching you. Her eyes softened when you met them.

You smiled shyly and took another bite of cornbread.

After dinner, while Ma packed up leftovers and Pa headed out to check the well pump, you and Mark stepped out to the porch again. The sun was dipping low, the sky turning the same soft pink and gold you remembered from childhood.

Krypto was curled near the porch swing, belly exposed to the cooling air, twitching slightly in his sleep like he was chasing something in a dream.

Mark leaned against the railing, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

“They love you,” you said after a beat, your voice soft.

“You think so?”

“I know so. Ma gave you second helpings without even asking, and Pa didn’t re-interrogate you.”

“He did ask if I knew how to fix a tractor.”

You shrugged. “That’s practically a welcome into the family. Next time you come over he’ll let you help him with the fencing.”

Mark smiled faintly, his eyes scanning the horizon. “I can see why you are the way you are. Not just your folks. It’s quiet out here. It’s nice.”

You leaned into his side, your arms brushing, the wood creaking under your combined weight. “It was a good place to grow up. It still is.”

He was quiet for a moment. The cicadas buzzed lazily in the distance, and the last bit of sunlight painted everything gold. Krypto huffed again and rolled over, tail flicking.

“You miss it?” Mark asked finally.

You didn’t answer at first. The question settled somewhere heavy in your chest.

“All the time,” you admitted. “I miss Smallville, the farm, my parents… The city just doesn’t have what we have here. The air smells different. You can see the stars and the horizon. People wave when they drive by.”

Mark reached out and took your hand, gently threading his fingers through yours.

“Really?” he asked, tone soft, but incredibly teasing.

You glanced down at your hands before smiling up at him. “That, and the city couldn’t put together a good fairground even if they tried. Funnel cake, rigged games, pie-eating contests, a barely put together ferris wheel, they don’t get it.”

“Well,” he said, raising a brow, “you’ll just need to take me to the next one, won’t you?”

“You bet I’m taking you. The city has nothing on a Smallville fair weekend. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen the lights of them at night.”

Mark let out a low, amused laugh and shook his head. He pushed off the railing, stretching slightly as he started down the porch steps. “You ready to head out?”

You hesitated, rubbing the back of your neck with a sheepish smile. “Actually… I’m staying the night. My folks still get worried if I’m flying after dark. Some habits die hard.”

Mark turned halfway back toward you, a slow grin spreading across his face. His eyes sparkled with something that gave you butterflies, and also made you want to flick him right in the forehead.

“So,” he said, dragging out the syllable, “if I wanted to stay the night too…”

You crossed your arms, giving him a flat look. “You’d be on the couch. Or in the barn.”

“Barn, huh?” He tapped his chin like he was weighing the options. “Hayloft’s not bad. Pretty private. Romantic.”

You snorted. “I promise you, it’s not.”

“It could be. If you’re there,” he said smoothly, stepping back onto the porch and wrapping an arm around your waist.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull away. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m charming.”

“You’re trying to be charming.”

“Is it working?” He winked.

You opened your mouth to argue but he leaned in, brushing his lips just barely against your temple. The softest touch. Not quite a kiss, but enough to stall your breath and freeze the words on your tongue.

Suddenly, every sense went haywire. You could feel the warmth of his skin, hear the soft rustle of cornfields beyond the fence line and, unfortunately, your super hearing decided to kick in just in time to register your parents’ conversation inside the house. Something about dessert. Your mom’s asking if there’s still whipped cream in the fridge.

Not exactly the best romantic ambiance.

You exhaled against his shoulder, forehead resting there as you smiled despite yourself. “Maybe not here. Not with my parents twenty-five feet away.”

Mark’s breath caught just slightly, then he gave a quiet laugh, warm against your hair. “Got it. No seduction in radius of parents.”

“You say that like you’re disappointed.”

“Oh, I’m very disappointed,” he admitted easily, eyes sparkling. “But I get it. See how healthy and well-adjusted I am?”

You leaned back enough to look at him fully, your hands sliding down to rest at his hips.

“Come on,” you said, looping your fingers through his belt loops and tugging him gently back toward the porch door. “You’ve earned some pie before you leave for the night.”

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Okay, give me the sheet,” Mark said, holding out his hand expectantly.

You groaned and flopped dramatically over the back of the couch, but still handed it over. “You’re not even subtle about enjoying this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, cheerfully ignoring the noise you made as he took the cheat sheet. “I’m just being a supportive boyfriend. Helping you study. Being helpful.”

You shot him a glare as he turned slightly, hunched over the notebook like a goblin crafting riddles. Which, to be fair, he kind of was. Just a goblin with excellent bone structure. And muscles. And way too soft looking hair.

You’d always been good at languages when they were living, breathing things, things you could hear, mimic, practice in class or on the street. But this wasn’t like that. It wasn’t Latin, it wasn’t French. It wasn’t even fucking Klingon.

It was dead. And not just dead, completely extinct.

The alphabet was beautiful and maddening, full of glyphs and curves that your brain still tried to match to Earth sounds, even though it wasn’t made for someone who was raised on the Latin alphabet. And without anyone who actually spoke it, or knew the cadence, or pronunciation, or even grammar rules, you were working with a cipher and a prayer.

So you’d been going slow. Memorizing letters. Trying to figure out context. And having Mark write random, simple sentences for you to translate to keep your brain flexible.

But this one?

You stared at the paper, squinting like maybe that would help. “Mark, what is that?”

“Hmm?”

You pointed at the sentence. “Mark. This is anything but simple. What am I reading?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said innocently, holding the notebook just out of reach. “Just gotta read it out loud. Maybe it’ll make more sense that way.”

You gave him a flat look. “Mark.”

He wiggled the notebook encouragingly. “Go on. Out loud. You got it.”

You sighed, shoulders slumping. “Fine.”

You sounded it out carefully. Translating the alphabet to English then speaking it aloud. It took effort, but you managed to string the sentence together from the strange alphabet.

And then you blinked.

“…Did you seriously write ‘Your boyfriend is incredibly handsome and you should kiss him immediately’ in my dead language?”

Mark grinned over the top of the notebook, smug and pleased with himself. “Took me like fifteen minutes to figure out how to spell that in your alphabet.”

You threw a pillow at him.

He caught it one-handed, still smug. “Didn’t say no, though.”

“I said this was a study session.”

“Hey, emotional support is part of the learning process,” he said, scooting closer on the couch. “What if I’m the reward system? You get through a whole page of translations, you get a kiss.”

“Mark,” you groaned, trying and failing to push his face away. He was entirely too close and entirely too pleased with himself.

“I’m just trying to make this educational,” he whispered.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stalling.”

You huffed, but your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. Because, of course, he was right. He usually was when it came to reading you.

You settled back onto the couch with your notes, and he shifted to sit beside you instead of hovering. One leg tucked under him, the other stretched out, knee brushing against yours.

“Alright,” you muttered, flipping to the next practice page. “But no more complicated sentences, please?”

“No promises.”

You side-eyed him, and he held up a hand in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Only mildly interesting ones.”

“Mark.”

“Educationally suggestive.”

“You’re gonna get smacked.”

“Worth it.”

You ended up getting through two more pages of translation before your head started to ache. The characters swam slightly on the page and your brain refused to connect any more dots, especially as you hit another cluster of runes that seemed like they should mean ‘apple’ but instead translated to ‘water’.

“Okay,” you exhaled, rubbing your eyes, “that’s enough. I can feel my frontal lobe melting.”

Mark closed the notebook for you and tugged it out of your hands, placing it gently on the coffee table. “Then I’m invoking boyfriend privileges.”

You raised a brow. “Which are?”

“This.” He pulled you gently into his side, arm snug around your shoulders as you curled into him without complaint.

The apartment was quiet for a long moment. The hum of the AC. The low rumble of city life outside. The sound of your breathing slowly matching his.

“…Thank you,” you said softly, eyes still closed.

Mark tilted his head slightly. “For what?”

“For making the impossible feel possible.”

He smiled. Kissed the top of your head.

“I told you,” he murmured. “I’m very helpful.”

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You took a deep breath in.

Then out.

The breath fogged in front of your face, curling in the cold air like smoke. You didn't bother to shiver. You weren’t too used to this place yet, and honestly, you weren’t even sure if you could feel the cold.

The Fortress was still and quiet, eerily so, despite the crystals humming faintly around you. A chorus of resonance that never quite settled into silence.

You stood alone in the center of the chamber, surrounded by glowing pillars of alien architecture. The crystals from Krypto’s pod, your own, and the translation crystal were all in their places. The light was dim but shifting, casting long reflections on the crystal floor like ripples on water.

It had been a week.

A week of going to work. Of patrols. Of dinners with Jimmy, of coffee and lunches with Mark, a weekend of flying Krypto over farmland in the early hours before the rest of world stirred. You’d clung to that like a security blanket.

But now? Now you were ready to face it.

To face him.

You crossed the threshold into the central chamber and activated the recording again.

The crystal glowed, brighter this time, as if it recognized you more completely. It flickered to life with a low hum and a beam of light, then he appeared.

The man who looked a little too much like you.

Your biological father.

He began speaking in Kryptonian, and the translation crystal hanging at your neck pulsed, syncing with the language. Words scrolled at the edge of your vision, projected through a soft blue light that hovered just above your gaze.

“To my daughter, Kala-El—”

Your breath caught again, but you didn’t interrupt the message. You don’t think you could speak to it, if you tried. Not with the thick lump in your throat.

“If you are seeing this, then I am gone. Krypton is gone. Our home, our people… everything we knew.”

The message continued. His voice was even, measured. A scientist through and through. He explained what had happened: the environmental collapse, the many warnings unheeded by Krypton’s leadership, the urgency of saving what could be saved.

You listened. You watched. You read.

“We had no choice but to send you away. There was no time. The calculations showed a slim but possible chance of survival in an inhabitable galaxy many systems away. We built the vessel for you. We hoped it would be enough.”

He paused, his projection, at least. The image flickered like it was buffering pain, or maybe something heavier that couldn’t be fully translated.

“Your mother and I... we stayed behind. Someone had to make sure the launch succeeded. Someone had to give you a future.”

Your fingers curled tightly into your sleeves.

“Kala, if you are anything like your mother… you will be strong. Not just in body, but in heart. She is the bravest person I ever knew.”

There was a long pause. The hologram looked away, briefly, toward some unseen horizon. A flicker of emotion passed across his face, not rehearsed, not programmed. It was the first moment he didn’t seem like a memory.

He seemed like your father.

“You may feel alone, but you are not. Not only physically, as we’ve been sure to send escape ships ahead of yours in preparation and for your protection. Krypto has always been protective of you. But, Kala, you are our legacy. Our hope. You carry the strength of our world in your bones, and the kindness of our house in your heart.”

You wiped your cheek with the back of your hand. You hadn’t realized the tears had come.

The hologram raised its hand, and with it, a floating crystal detached from the surrounding wall. It hovered toward you slowly, its facets glinting like a star in motion. You reached out, fingers brushing over it, and suddenly images flooded your vision.

Not words. Not captions.

Memories.

A woman smiling, dark-haired and fierce-eyed, your mother. The view from Krypton’s towers, golden cities sprawling into pale violet skies. The feel of hands holding you, small and safe. A lullaby in a language you slowly began to understand but felt strongly in your bones.

The crystal pulsed once and dimmed, returning to its dormant state. The image of your father began to fade too, his final words, in the language you suddenly understood, echoing in the stillness.

“You are more than Kryptonian. You are yours. Whatever path you choose, I hope it brings you peace, my daughter.”

Then silence.

You let it settle. Let the quiet become part of you. It wasn’t a clean resolution. It wasn’t closure in the way people always made it sound. But it was the truth.

It was history.

You sat down slowly, cross-legged on the floor, the crystal still cradled in your hands.

Kala-El.

The name sat heavy and strange on your tongue, like it didn’t quite belong to you yet.

But no matter how you felt about it, it was yours.

T A G L I S T:

@mightymeick , @dandelion-delusion

[pastelclovds]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞

pairing: debbie x kryptonian!male!reader x nolan

cw: angst, diabetes amount of fluff, polyamorous relationship, hurt/comfort, pre s2, comfort sex, praise kink, vaginal sex, oral sex, squirting, soft dom!top!reader, spooning position, mentioned past threesomes, infidelity (andressa and nolan in the end 😬).

word count: 1.5k

authors note: continuing from this post a lifetime ago. this is my most angsty fic yet :’) enjoy 💕

the only thing that just as painful as fighting your husband, nolan, the man whom you had loved for two decades after witnessing him beat your son (mark) to a pulp: was watching your wife, debbie break into a million figurative pieces on your bed while she was holding one of nolan’s shirts.

you had always admired her independence and compassion. she taught you and nolan the history, beauty, and culture of this peculiar planet. it wasn’t long until she and nolan had stolen your heart. the house was empty and mark was off to college. you had come back home from the grocery store, a box of debbie’s favorite snacks in your hand when you caught sight of her sobbing self.

debbie was the strongest person in the universe to you. she had always put the needs of others before herself. this time, you’ll be sure to make her feel loved and supported. she didn’t push away from you as you took her into your sturdy arms, nolan’s shirt immediately forgotten.

she let’s out a sob when she felt your lips trailing from her collarbone to her neck. a few tears still manage to escape her closed lids but disappear as you kiss them away. debbie sits on your lap as she hides her swollen face on your chest.

“i’m sorry—”

“you have nothing to be sorry about.”

“how could i’ve been so stupid to believe him for all those years—?”

you gently cup her tear stained cheeks as you softly muttered, “i believed him too. nolan’s betrayal hurt us both. but you’ve been dealing with it all by yourself when we should’ve been dealing with it together, debbie. you’ve been strong long enough, for mark and myself. i’ve never been more proud of you, but now it’s your turn to let go and be taken care of. will…” she gasps when you give her waist a small squeeze, you continue to ask with soft eyes, “…you let me?”

debbie had never felt more loved in her life, she had no clue what she would do if you weren’t there by her side. the bed was never cold. your tender smile greeted her every morning. you treated her like she was a queen worthy of your worship. she was so tired of putting on a facade. tonight, she wanted to be yours.

debbie answers your question by wrapping one of her arms around your neck as her plump lips pressed against yours, to which you warmly welcomed back. all the while, her other hand snuck under your shirt and started stroking your abdomen.

you removed her shirt and unclasped her bra, debbie let out a pleased sigh as her chest was released from its cage and hung free, her nipples hardened under your lustful gaze. you didn’t waste any time in getting naked yourself as debbie continued to strip herself for you. her heart leaped when you stared at her body with the same hunger as when you first saw her naked all those years ago.

a string of slick reveals itself as debbie removes her panties when she catches sight of your toned muscles shining under the light of the sunset peeking through your bedroom window. your dick throbbed and felt heavy as debbie took it in her hand, you shallowed your groans with a steamy kiss as her fingers played with your tip.

before debbie could make a move to take you into her mouth, you stopped her. she stared up at you puzzled.

“i’m supposed to take care of you, remember? i wanna spoil you, make you feel good,” you spoke in a thick tone that it has debbie clenching around nothing. you said nothing as you picked up debbie like she weigh nothing as placed her carefully on the cold bedsheets. you spread her legs apart until you were met with the delicious sight of her wet pussy. your cock jumps and your balls made it painfully clear that they were full than ever. you wanted to dive into her body and never part, but you ceased those thoughts. this was for debbie, not you. there would be a time for that later.

debbie looked up at you with pleading eyes, you lowered yourself down on the floor at the edge of the bed. your hands continued to lovingly caress debbie’s thighs. then, without warning, you leaned your face towards her cunt and push your tongue inside her twitching walls.

“oh fuck— ah! oh, this feels so good,” debbie cried out, her legs wrapped themselves around your head. she didn’t know if it was because you were an alien or whatever, but your tongue always managed to reach the deepest depths of her better than nolan could.

debbie fists the sheets as you continue to stretch her out, but you didn’t stop there. you ravenously sucked her clit, your growls sending pleasant vibrations through out. you devoured her like an inmate on death row. debbie was reminded on how greedy you were when it came to her pussy. whether it was to eating her out or thrusting your fat cock into her, it didn’t matter. you were drunk on her and nolan’s respective holes nonetheless.

debbie let out gasping moans as your tongue flattened over her overstimulated clit and dragged it back and forth. just to throw her over the edge, you pumped your fingers in and out of her sopping pussy, curling them up and pressing them against her walls until they found her sweet spot. you stared up at her with a soft, demanding look, as if you were commanding her to let go and release all over your face.

the only sounds in the rooms were the slurping of your mouth against debbie’s sex and her uncontrollable noises and pleas for more. It was too much and perfection at the same time. debbie shook as she choked out a cry, she sees stars as her orgasm rushes through her and slick squirts over your lips and nose.

debbie laid on the bed like a stringless puppet, her eyes closed as she catches her breath. meanwhile, you rise from the carpeted floor, wipe the clear slick from your face, and use it to lube your hard cock. it had already turned bright red near the tip due to you ignoring it. now the real fun can begin. you give debbie a few minutes to rest, you handed her a bottle water to drink as you showered her in praise.

debbie flushed at the overwhelming adoration. debbie recalled another memory of you taking charge in the aftercare as nolan and debbie held each other in warm embrace after a particularly exhausting session. you made sure they were the most comfortable.

finally, you set debbie sideways on top of the soft pillows as you laid behind her, snaking your arm around her waist as you grind your dick against her entrance. debbie whined when she felt the tip of your cock touch her clit after every movement of your hips.

you peck her neck once more and whisper next to her ear, “i love you, debbie. more than anything else. you aren’t alone, this wasn’t either of our faults. you’re my strong, beautiful wife. nothing’s gonna change that.”

you hear debbie’s breath hitch before salty tears fill her eyes once again. she turns her head and holds onto your neck so she could press a kiss to your lips. your bodies were tangled up like a intimate pretzel, even if you didn’t have your super hearing, you’d still be able to hear debbie’s heartbeat due to how close she was.

nobody else but yourself, debbie and nol—

…nobody else but debbie and youself existed…

debbie pulls away from the kiss first as a few tears escape from her eyes again, she stares at you with pure love and trust as she mutters out, “thank you for everything. i love you more. please, please put it in—”

debbie trailed off and let out a sighing moan when she felt your cock fill her to the brim, your hips press flush against her. your tongue was perfect, but your dick was divine. you were going to do everything in your power to make sure nobody hurt your family again. but in the deepest corner of your mind laid a traitorous thought.

where did nolan go, and was he okay?

after you and debbie were done making love, you use your super human speed to make quick work of clean up and gave debbie one last kiss good night before covering the two of you in a blanket and sleeping peacefully for the first time in weeks.

meanwhile, nolan stared up blankly at the countless stars above him from his spot on the balcony that was just outside his bedroom, where andressa slept peacefully on his bed heavy with his future child. despite how far he traveled, nolan could never run away from the memories of what he’d done. he was a disgrace to his empire, and to his family.

the picture of you and debbie appear in his mind. no matter how many times he tried to deny caring for the two of you: he couldn’t believe it himself. he wished things could’ve been different.

[thatrandomidiot182]

Glimpse of Another Life

Variant! Invincible/Mark Grayson × Kryptonian! Reader

Warnings. minor angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of death/murder.

A/N. This is verrry dialogue centric, and written during 3am spurts of inspiration, so it's not the greatest, but I do like how it ended up. I hope yall like it as well! P.s. This is not referencing any of the canon Mark variants, but it can be seen as viltrumite Mark if you want! I just had this idea and wanted to share bc pathetic Mark has me DOWN BAD 😫

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"I thought I'd find you here."

The statement sends a wave of panic down your spine, breaking the peaceful silence you had tried so desperately to find. Your body springs up, instantly uncurling from the fetal position you had been floating in as you tense, preparing to face the source.

"You always came up here after a rough day."

God you wish he'd just shut up.

You never thought you'd feel like this, but after everything that's happened these last twenty-four hours, all you wanted to do was escape that damn voice.

It's why you had fled the planets atmosphere in the first place. Speeding off to curl up in your hiding place next to the sun as soon as things had died down.

It was the one place you knew you could avoid Mark— or at least, your Mark.

It was the one place you could escape the sound of his voice spitting words he'd never say.

"You look exactly the same... You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."

He whispers your name like a prayer, and it sends a violent wave of nausea rolling through your stomach.

Just yesterday it would have brought you an embarrassing amount of glee to hear his voice calling out to you in such a tone.

The teasing lilt and deep, raspy pitch would normally send a wave of comfort over your tensed figure, instantly quelling your fear... Mark always did have the innate ability to shatter your defenses. Even with something as simple and small as a laugh.

"Please. I'm not here to hurt you. I'd never hurt you, I just... I needed to see you again. It's the only reason I came here."

His voice trembles, pitch heightened as he begs, "Please let me see you."

Your body trembles as you feel his presence drawing closer. Whether it was with fear, rage or exhaustion, you don't know. Maybe a sick combination of all three...

"I'm not that person..."

It was the only thing you could think to say in the moment, and your enhanced hearing allows you to hear the stutter in his breath all too clearly...

Along with his heartbeat, which was beating almost as fast as yours.

"I know."

His voice is small, defeated. As you finally turn to face him, body coiled and tensed for a fight, you find yourself freezing at the sight– because this Mark was different.

His face was stronger, more defined. All chisled cheeks and sharp jawline, no trace of the leftover baby fat you loved to squish when he was being too cocky.

Prominent eyebags and traces of a five o-clock shadow age him significantly. Although, taking into account the scars that littered his face and hands and the pure size of him, it was safe to assume he was a bit older.

As your gazes finally meet, you find yourself hesitating at the amount of pain and fondness his eyes held.

That hesitation lasted for only a moment, because as soon as your brain processed the full image of this Mark, you froze.

There are quite a few reasons you feel as though you should be afraid of him, but none of them were what set you off.

It wasn't the suit, which was, to your horror, the classic Viltrumite uniform that you had seen on the previous visits from the race.

It wasn't the length of his hair, which was only slightly shorter than your Marks' was and added to the aura of stern maturity he carried.

It wasn't even the broad expanse of his shoulders, that easily beat your Mark's in comparison, that caused you to freeze in such fear.

It was because of how much he looked like his father.

From the slope of his shoulders to the cinch of his waist, even down to the swell of his thighs, this Mark was undeniably his fathers son.

You'd never thought that Mark had looked like Nolan as much as everyone said he did, but seeing what could be– what is, this other Mark... One who is far from the slender, goofy, childhood best friend of yours that can't build huge muscles if his life depended on it...

Suddenly made you grateful that Debbie's genes had put up such a fight.

Because even as you see Nolan in the mass of his muscles, and the stance that takes up as much space as possible while simultaneously exuding danger and strength– You can still see the remnants of his humanity in the shape of his eyes and curve of his lips. In the slope of his nose and the brown of his iris, you see traces of one of the greatest women you've ever known.

Which is the only reason you haven't moved to attack.

Because this Mark was different. Not just from your Mark, but from all the other Mark's who you had fought (and killed) throughout the past few hours.

Whereas those Marks were all varying in size and stature, their eyes had all held the same sinister glint.

They all shared the same sick inclination to violence and pride, never hesitating to attack first, with a stupid, egoistic whip and strength that rivaled your own.

He didn't.

Despite his size, his posture was carefully submissive, hands splayed open before your eyes in a show of innocence and vulnerability.

His eyes were gentle and tired, rather than obsessive and manic as the others had been.

Still, despite his seemingly unviolent nature, you don't know why you never attacked him.

Maybe it was the desperate hope to find another Mark that was good, or at least, not as bad as all the others.

Maybe it was the overwhelming exhaustion that had numbed your mind since you were first forced to kill a version of your best friend.

Or maybe it was because he somehow knew where to find you, when even your Mark had no idea about your solar absorption, that led you to where you are now.

Sat next to him in a cozy little crater on the moon, overlooking earth as he recalls your alternate life.

"We grew up together. Inseparable since the moment Nolan brought you home from the GDA after your little ship landed in the middle of New York." You note the peculiar use of Nolan's name, nodding along with his words as you reflect on your past with your own Mark.

"I used to be so jealous of you growing up. Unlike me, you had your powers since birth. Nolan always told me that it didn't matter how long you had your powers because when I got mine, I'd be stronger anways." He scoffed, "Fucker was always trying to pit us against each other..."

You tilted your head at that, confused by the notion, "He... never did that here." Your voice was hesitant, unsure if sharing the fact would comfort or further upset him.

Based on the way he smiled at the sound of your voice, you assume he wasn't too concerned with your actual words.

"That.. Makes me so happy to hear, actually." He laughs, breathless and without much humor, "I imagine we– You have a much better relationship with him then..." He trails off, glancing questioningly your way.

You pause, "With Nolan? Or..."

He huffs, leaning more into his elbows that are crossed over his bent knees as he responds, "Both, I suppose..." He gazes out at the expanse of space longingly, "I've thought about it a lot... What it could've been like if he never made us hate each other."

His grin falters, "But that didn't happen. Well, it did, just– not fast enough..." He stutters, and you watch nervously as his fists clench.

"We were at each other's throats our entire lives, and it only got worse when I finally got my powers– I think I was thirteen?" His body remains tense as he continues, "I used to see you as competition. Nolan always paid more attention to you. He took you with him on patrol, he trained you, he.... He made me feel like you were in the way of our relationship as father and son."

He scowls, "I felt like I had to fight for Nolans attention whenever you were around, and it made me hate you because you seemed to take it for granted. You were never enthusiastic about spending time with him, you even seemed to avoid it, and it pissed me off to see you taking advantage of it when I had to beg for crumbs of his approval." He grit his teeth, shuffling ridgedly and you instinctively lean further away at his agitation.

His head snaps your way, and your heart lurches in your throat, wide eyes meeting his as he softens under your flighty stare.

"That's exactly what he planned..." He trails off, head turning away as his body slumps, agitation fizziling out at the sight of your fear. "He wanted me to hate you, so that I would eventually have the will to... eliminate you when the time came to conquer earth. He-He knew that you were the only thing that could pose a threat to our takeover." You both winced at the wording.

"It wasn't until junior prom that I actually opened my eyes..." He laughed sadly.

"Mom made us go together, seeing as neither of us were very popular and tried to use that as an excuse not to go..." He smiled with a wistful sigh, "I'm glad she did. It... ended up being the best night of my life." Your heart clentched at the sight of his crooked smile. His eyes were glazed and reflected the light of the stars in a way that had your breath hitching all too familiarly.

He laughs again, eyes crinkling with affection, "I still remember how awkward you looked in your cute little outfit." His voice took on a teasing lilt as he glanced at you, "Standing at the top of the stairs all grumpy because mom wanted a picture..." He leaned back to lean on his hands with a laugh, "I remember standing there like an idiot. Gaping like a fish because, all of a sudden, you were more than the annoying kid who took my dad from me... You were just... A normal teenager... Who also happened to be the prettiest person I'd ever seen." Your cheeks flushed, and despite knowing he's not actually talking about you... you couldn't help but let yourself indulge in the compliment that your Mark had never even come close to speaking.

"You know, I beat myself up the entire car ride to the school. It was so awkward and it made me realize that despite my dad's interference... You never hated me."

Your eyes are wide and curious as you listen. His voice held so much fondness for this other version of you, it was shocking to imagine him ever hating her.

"I felt like the worst person alive when I realized that despite how awful I was to you, you never held it against me. Guess it's because you knew that I didn't know who my dad actually was..." his voice trailed off, and you could sense the rising anger simmering in his eyes.

"Who knew all it took for you guys to get along was teenage hormones and the dougie..."

Your absentminded comment snaps him out of his haze, drawing his attention as a bewildered stare graces his features.

"I mean, a sixteen year rivalry ended in one night! Must've been some prom..." You smile as you finally get a laugh out of him, quietly reveling in the sound.

"Yeah. It sure was." He smirks, eyes twinkling with a familiar mischief, "You can dance a mean cupid shuffle."

You burst into laughter, tossing your head back with a grin, "Tell me, does you having two left feet translate to every universe?"

He grins back, "Well, yeah– but you said it was cute!"

Your laughter rings in the quiet expanse of space, heard only thanks to the superior senses of your respective alien biologies.

In your humorous fit, you fail to realize how close you began to lean towards Mark until the warmth of his bicep met your own.

Your laughs dwindle at his sudden silence, head tilting to eye him as you grow concerned.

You were met with a gentle, fond smile that set your heart ablaze. His eyes were soft, cheeks pink and dimpled as he stared at you reverently.

You stayed quiet, allowing yourself the moment to soak in his undivided adoration, silently preening under his gaze.

It wasn't until he reached a hand up to brush against your cheek that you snapped out of your stupor. Hesitantly pulling away as you reprimand yourself for getting swept away.

After all, this isn't your Mark.

This isn't your best friend (and nothing more).

Your Mark would never willingly speak so adoringly of you.

Your Mark would never caress you so softly, as if you were something to be worshipped.

Your Mark just didn't love you like you loved him.

It was cruel and unfair to lean into the embrace of this Mark and take advantage of his feelings because at the end of the day, you are not the you he fell in love with.

Your thoughts drive you to break the silence with a sharp sigh, pointedly ignoring his hurt stare as he slowly lowers his hand back to his side.

"Why are you here, Mark?"

He stares at you with a furrowed brow, "I told you, I wanted to see–"

"No, I mean–" You take a breath, gesturing to the earth before you half-heartedly, "Why did you come here with them, if you don't want to conquer our world like they do?"

He takes longer to answer you this time, and you began to worry about his answer.

"It was the only way to see you again." His voice is shaky, the warmth from your previous conversation gone as he glares out at the planet. "Angstrom promised that if I helped him get revenge, he'd let me see you– have you." He pauses, and you tense at the implication of his words.

He sighs, wincing at your jumpiness as he rushes to reassure you, "I'm not here to be the bad guy. I don't want to conquer this earth, I could care less about this Mark! I just– I needed to see you alive. T-To know that you're happy and healthy here... and to make sure it stays that way." His last words are spoken so softly they were almost whispered, and you hesitate to believe them for the sole reason you think you might have hallucinated them.

Nonetheless, you stay silent at the revelation, allowing yourself the time to properly digest your entire encounter thus far.

Your head is far more clouded than when you originally came up here after Mark had disappeared with Eve. After your heart could no longer take killing him again and again...

You don't know what you're supposed to do anymore...

You want to cry, but you can't because you know the Mark next to you will want to comfort you, and the worst part is that you'd allow it.

You want to go back down and pummel every varient you come across just to let out the frustration you feel, but you won't. Not after discovering the possibility that they're not all bad.

So what can you do? What should you do?

What will you do?

What you always do–

"Well, you said you weren't here to be the bad guy, right?"

You slowly rise from your seated position, looming over Mark with a steeled gaze.

Despite your seriousness, you can't help the quirk of your lips at the intense way he nods his head. You shoulders stiffen as you turn back towards earth resolutely, sparing him one last glance before taking off.

"Prove it."

–Save your planet.

[hattersrabbit]

GOODNESS INCARNATE

yandere avengers x kryptonian! reader | sfw

CW! male reader, can be seen as either platonic or romantic, toxic behavior, overprotective avengers, obsessive behavior, golden retriever! reader, ambiguous ending

Summary! at some point something fell from earth and crashed into earth. A new hero rises up in the city of Metropolis and catches the eye of Earth’s Mightiest Defenders, and it ends up getting a bit too far.

✎ᝰ.don’t ask about the timeline or anything call it an au where endgame doesn’t happen :D

next | series

˖꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷

Somewhere in Kansas a space shuttle fell to earth. It was never found, but the couple said to be incapable of having children had a child, and a dog too.

A child that was above from normal. That being you. An alien from the planet Krypton that had died. You and your dog, Krypto being the only one of your kind.

The last surviving Kryptonians.

Your new parents were a joy to have. You loved them and they raised you very protectively, and in return you cared for them.

With your strength, and Krypto you helped save your city Metropolis for the first time. The massive billionaire Lex Luthor caused massive damage and almost killed a bunch of people if not for you.

Dressed in blue and red you were a symbol of hope. The S across your chest being a family crest. One of the last of your parents own existence.

The people loved you, and you find the world was interested in you. A hero that came out of nowhere.

And certainly you were loved. Nick Fury couldn’t deny the need to get you on the team of train wrecks.

In fact, it could all be seen all the way to a Spider Boy who could only look at the footage in awe. The hero was someone who Peter Parker aimed to be.

Beside him was Wanda, the Scarlet Witch who looked on with awe in her eyes as well. As a woman who’s gone after bad thing after bad thing she couldn’t help but want goodness.

You were goodness. She could feel it, even if it was through a video.

Tony was apprehensive but even so he never seen someone so good. It was like you never faced horror ever. Your kindness and not a hint of showing off, or playing around while fighting.

Determination.

Captain America; Steve Rogers saw himself in you. Goodness that he could never achieve. One that smiled despite it all, while somberness swallowed him into a boastful mouth.

Bucky would have to agree. He was smiling once back then, and you were literal sunshine. A smile on those lips with such natural strength, and treating civilians with such kindness.

Thor found you adorable, and could feel that you were worthy of his hammer. Even through videos of you he felt like you were worthy. Absolutely beautiful he also thought. What man could fly through the air so gracefully like that. Without a care, and just as quick.

Natasha and Clint admired you. Albeit maybe it was a sense of something they never got. A man who hadn’t ever killed in his life, and was smiling. A sense of light they never got, and there you were.

Sunshine for them to bask themselves in.

Bruce felt wary but you were strong. No anger seemed to be in your body. Surely yes you seemed angry at Lex Luthor but that was for obvious reasons. You weren’t always angry like him. Angry only when necessary, unlike him.

Control of yourself is what you had.

A semblance of this world is that it was corrupt. A source of true good like you, and while you weren’t of them you believed in good.

Good in human beings.

The avengers knew better.

So when you’re recruited they aimed to make sure you’d ease into that reality. When offered the chance you jumped at it.

Imagine the surprise when Krypto arrived by your side. The avengers were no less taken aback and flustered.

You smiled big and wide. Nothing to hide and kind to them all.

Unbeknownst to you the immediate thought of you changed. A being that was good and needed to be protected. This group had been through terrible things, and it brought them down.

Made them turn darker.

Wanda knew that better than anyone.

Bucky hated himself for it.

Peter remembered the days when people knew of him, and how in those last moments back then he almost committed true murder.

They hid it well.

Steve would greet you with open arms and a welcoming smile, “Welcome to the team!” He would pat you on the shoulder. He would blink when it felt like metal.

You would laugh brightly, and saying a lot of people said that. Although it wasn’t like you were gonna say you were an alien. Not yet anyway.

They would find out anyway. Thanking Wanda for that, for she read your mind.

Imagine the wonder Peter had when he talked to you. Over the years now that he was Spider-Man he had lost his once happy attitude in being a hero.

You a little older than him was still hopeful, and hadn’t started as a teenager. You were hopeful and Peter couldn’t help but admire you. That smile; the one he lost and you still had it.

You can’t blame him when he stole one of your notebooks. The pages had tons of notes of your perceived faults and self-hatred. Don’t blame him when he shows Steve and Tony.

Don’t mind the confusion when the entire team is praising you more than usual. Any time you lift something instead of the Hulk Bruce smiles. His anger dismissed and he’s praising you despite his shy nature.

Don’t be surprised when you get hurt and spit blood that you get tested by the scientist. Tony even going as far as tweaking your suit to make sure you’re more protected. It was sweet, but useless venture to say you didn’t need it.

Of course you needed it. You were young, and even had fewer experience than Peter. You had no idea what you were talking about. Bruce and Tony were older.

They knew better, and told you that.

Naively, you shrugged it off. Krypto would only tilt his head at the them, and albeit he became much more close to you.

Wanda didn’t seem to like the change.

Once or twice Krypto would stare at her. ‘Try it.’ The dog was protective and a nuisance. He could feel the darkness. The woman was more susceptible to the darkness. The obsession of getting you to herself.

The others so far, Bruce and Tony already got hands on you when you got injured. Although never really seemed to look into your mind. What if you got brain damage?

She could fix it. Her magic would change it from affecting you. Peter had too much time with you. She was more your age, so you should be with her.

In a way you reminded her of Vision. Kind and understanding. Normalcy that she begged for and clung to.

Maybe she could change the dog but you would notice. It would make you sad, and she didn’t want that. Surely she was wanting you to herself, but your happiness also mattered.

She would be careful.

Get Krypto’s trust was her plan.

The two who have killed before were floored with the kindness. With the protectiveness you gave them.

In act of almost being killed you rang over them with your huge size and protecting them in the blast. Your scream of pain was loud in their ears.

Thor heard it loud and clear. The enemy was on the floor in seconds. Too brutal for normal, and you questioned Thor.

The god gave an excuse that you completely fell for. Too sweet and naive for this world. A sheltered kid in the Midwest fields, with protective parents.

Still too unforgiving of this horrible world.

Thor couldn’t tell you that he almost aimed to kill the attacker.

Natasha would share a look with him.

They knew. Murder was out of the question, but when you screamed like that they knew that maybe maiming was the move. Clint would talk to you as the two discussed what to do with the assailant.

Hearing the news Bucky would want to check over your wounds. There were none but it didn't stop him from getting those mental fingers on your bare skin.

You would shiver. Cold against your warm skin. Shining like the sun Bucky would think. Steve would look too.

A body like his own and invincible to harm.

At least they thought.

Kryptonite was horrible. Lex Luthor's laugh haunted them. You on the floor and holding your chest. Blood flowing from your mouth and a bullet in your chest.

Bruce was terrified.

Peter and Wanda beside themselves.

And so when you awake from your slumber don't ask about the disappearance of Lex Luthor. Don't ask why you can't hear his distinct heat beat.

Don't ask your still on bed rest, and Krypto is so much more hostile towards everyone now. Wary of Wanda and her glares to your dog.

Don't ask why Bruce's lingering touch stayed.

Don't ask why your mind seemed played with.

Don't bother with the protective members who've been known to kill before to be so close to you.

Don’t tell Peter to leave your side. Don't ask Steve to stop defending your city, Metropolis.

All the avengers ask of you is to keep that smile on your face no matter how confused you are.

To keep there goodness, and to never be corrupted.

To be good.

[wordsofwhimsy]

EᗰᑭIᖇE Oᖴ TᗯO

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【Ａ/Ｎ】⦂ Thank you beautifulpersonsblog for the request! I’m not sure what type of personality you had in mind for the Kryptonian reader so I just ran with it. I hope you enjoy!

【ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ】⦂ Sinister!Mark Grayson x Kryptonian!Reader

【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】⦂ Violence, oppression

【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】⦂ “My Piece” by Miguel

【ＳＹＮＯＰＳＩＳ】⦂ In Sinister Mark’s universe there is a Kryptonian who, for whatever reason, has taken up the mantel of being his partner in crime. The atrocities they commit together are unthinkable, and more than that—unstoppable.

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The night was quiet. The city below sprawled with lights and sporadic dots of burning fires as it trembled under the weight of tyranny. From your view on the balcony of Mark’s high-rise fortress, the world seemed so small. So fragile. The moon hung low in the sky, bathing everything in a silver glow. But to Mark, the world wasn’t bathed in light. It was bathed in control. And the woman standing next to him, gazing out at the city with silent intensity, was his greatest weapon.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Mark's voice broke the silence, though it wasn’t a compliment—it was simply an observation. He wasn’t one for pleasantries. His tone was firm, devoid of any tenderness, the way he always spoke. You were his ally, his tool—his lover? Of course. He’d be a fool not to make use of a body that sumptuous. The warmth though that typically existed between lovers was absent, replaced instead by a cold sense of purpose and obsession.

Your Kryptonian features caught the moonlight perfectly—sharp, angular, striking. A goddess among mortals, and Mark revealed in the idea of his possession of you. You were strength, beauty, grace—but above all a weapon to be unleashed on his command.

You turned to face him, your eyes narrowing slightly, not at the compliment, but at the context. You knew him well enough by now to understand his twisted nature. The way he operated.

"You don't need to flatter me, Mark," you said, voice low with a raw edge. The arrogance in your tone matched his. "If you need me to make a move, just say it."

He nodded, an almost imperceptible smirk pulling at his lips. "You’re such a good girl…”

Mark took a step toward you, eyes calculating, never once betraying any emotion that wasn't necessary. "I need you to do something for me. There’s a resistance—weak, disorganized, but disrespectful to my rule, quite frankly. I want them broken."

Your lips curled into a subtle smile. "You know exactly what I want," he continued, a lustrous tone to his words. "I want them to see what happens when they oppose us. I want them terrified."

You stepped closer, your eyes locking with his. There was a moment of silent understanding between you two—a recognition of power and mutual respect. Mark wasn't the type to get close to anyone, but with you, he was different. Not in a sentimental way, but in the way that a king might view his queen. Necessary. Useful. As beautiful and dangerous as a blade.

"You have no idea how good it feels to be used," you whispered, your voice dripping with dark satisfaction. "To be part of something… greater."

Mark’s lips twitched upward, not into a smile, but into something far darker. "Then make them see. Make them fear you. They won’t know what hit them."

The moment suddenly became charged with an intensity that neither of you could ignore. The calculated coldness that normally hung between you both evaporated, replaced by something far more primal. There was no longer a leader and a tool, no longer a ruler and his weapon. In this moment, it was just the two of you, standing at the edge of destruction, and something dangerous stirring in the night.

You could see the way his chest rose and fell, the slight clench of his jaw, the hunger behind his cold eyes. Without warning you closed the space between you, reaching up to rest your hand on the stony contours of his chest. For a brief moment Mark tensed, as if anticipating the risk of what might come next. But then you pulled him in, lips crashing together with an intensity that felt like it could level everything in its path. The kiss was fierce, hungry—nothing gentle about it. His hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if to ensure that no distance would remain between you.

You responded in kind, your body pressing into his as the kiss deepened. There was no softness, no warmth. Just raw, unrestrained power. The way his lips moved against yours was deliberate, controlled, as if every kiss was an extension of his will. You matched it, your hands gripping his hair, tugging him closer, as if you, too, wanted to assert your dominance.

Mark growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest, and it only spurred you on. You pulled away just enough to look at him—his eyes dark, filled with a mix of control and something darker, more primal. "This is what power feels like," you whispered, your breath coming in shallow bursts, your body trembling under the weight of the moment.

He didn’t respond right away, but his fingers traced the curve of your jaw, his touch cold. "I don’t need to feel power," he said, voice low and dangerous, his gaze never leaving yours. "I am power."

And before you could respond his lips were on yours again, this time even more urgent, the world around you fading to nothing as you both drowned in the fire of your shared ambition.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was an assertion. A claim. And in that single, heated moment, everything that stood between you—every rule, every limit—was torn away. But sooner than either of you would have liked, the moment came to an end. Your lips pulled from his as he eyed the sheen of saliva now coating your mouth. It stirred an arousal deep in the pit of his abdomen.

A dark glint flickered in your eyes. "Leave them to me. I'll make sure they understand who’s in charge."

Mark gave a slight tilt of his head, acknowledging the agreement. As you moved to leave, he spoke again, his voice soft but cutting, the kind of tone that commanded loyalty without question. "Remember you’re not just here for show. You’re here because you're better than them. Use that."

With a single look, you walked past him, the heels of your boots clicking sharply against the floor as you left the room, each step bring you closer to the chaos you would soon unleash.

Mark watched you leave, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. You would do the work, ugly and bloody, and in return he would give you the dominion over this world that you both craved.

This resistance would be nothing but a footnote in the history you would write together.

Later that night...

The city streets were littered with mayhem. The resistance members who had dared to stand up against Mark’s rule were scattered, their hopes shattered. The few who remained struggled to hold on to the last threads of rebellion. But there was no escaping the inevitable.

You hovered above them, your Kryptonian presence an overwhelming symbol of strength that left those who witnessed it breathless and awestruck. The few brave souls who had gathered to oppose Mark’s empire looked up in terror as you descended, the night sky darkening around you like an omen. They could see it—your absolute dominance, and they knew in an instance that resistance would be futile.

With a flick of your wrist you sent them flying, their bodies crashing against walls, into cars, and across streets. The screams of the helpless echoed in the distance, but you didn’t care. You never did. Thia rebellion would break just like the rest had—through force, through fear.

Mark watched with satisfaction from his perch atop their fortress. His fingers tightened around the railing, a cold smirk crossing his face as you obliterated their last hope of standing tall. You were the storm he released from the sky, all encompassing in your oppression. The sight excited him in ways he could hardly contain.

And when you returned to him, stood beside him once again, the pleasured sensation thudding in his chest and coiling in his stomach was almost euphoric.

Mark turned to you, struggling to control how much feeling he convey on his face, but the truth was self-evident. In this twisted relationship, you were indispensable. The storm was yours to create, but only he could control it.

Together, the world would fall. And it would fall to you.

 “That was impressive,” he said, his voice almost reverent. “You didn’t just defeat them. You absolutely annihilated them. Such a beautiful thing you watch you show them that no one—and I do mean no one—stands a chance when we’re in control.”

You both couldn’t help but to relish in the feeling of triumph. You had crushed the resistance, obliterated anyone who dared to oppose Mark’s will. And Mark wasn’t just pleased; he was exhilarated. His eyes were fixed on you, a dark gleam in them that wasn’t just admiration but unsuppressed hunger.

He took a step toward you, his posture commanding. “You really did break them,” he said, his voice low, thick with satisfaction. “I knew you were strong, but this—seeing you unleash that power... this is exactly why I chose you.”

Your chest swelled with pride at his words. He didn’t just view you as a weapon in his arsenal. In this moment, he saw you as something more. A force to be reckoned with, equal to him in every way. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, not with cold calculation but appreciation.

“I told you,” you murmured, your voice rich with confidence as you stepped closer. “I’ve always known what I’m capable of. I just had to make you see it too”

The space between you closed as Mark reached out, his hand brushing your cheek, the gesture almost tender but there still being a lingering notion of power behind it. A claim. A promise. “You make me so proud,” he nearly purred. “You’ve earned this. You’ve earned everything.”

His words were like fire, lighting something inside you. The look in his eyes—the raw hunger, the respect, the shared ambition—pulled you in. Without another word you crushed your lips to his, your hands threading into his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss was explosive—ferocious, full of raw desire and ecstasy.

Mark responded instantly, his hands roaming over your back, pulling you closer as if to make sure there was no air left between your bodies. His kiss was intense, possessive, but there was a deeper current to it—a viscousness that suggested he needed to remind you he was still in charge of if all—that included you.

You broke the kiss, breathing unaffected as you looked up at him with a rush of adrenaline. His eyes were dark, glowing.

“You were perfect,” he said, voice thick with desire. “You’re perfect. We’re unstoppable.”

 “We are unstoppable,” you replied, your lips pulling into a wicked smile. “And I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.”

He didn’t hesitate. Mark pulled you back into him, kissing you again, this time even deeper as his hands exploring your body, claiming it as his. There was no need for words now—only actions. Your fingers roamed over his chest, feeling the strength beneath the fabric, the undeniable power that had brought you both to this point.

Mark’s hands slid down your sides, lifting you effortlessly as if you were weightless, and before you could fully process he had you pressed against the nearest wall, his lips never leaving yours. The kiss was all-encompassing, a physical manifestation of the control and dominance you both now shared. There was no hesitation in his touch, no doubt in his mind. He claimed you just as he had claimed the world—completely.

The kiss broke only for a moment, both of you seemingly starved for the others touch as your bodies still pressed together. “You are mine,” he said softly, the words a dark promise, a declaration.

“And you mine,” you replied, your voice full of equal certainty as your nails dragged down his chest before pulling him in for another kiss as if to seal the agreement between you.

The world outside, the people you had crushed underfoot—none of it mattered now. It was just the two of you, reveling in the power you had claimed, the empire you’d built together. This was only the beginning, and you both knew that nothing would stand in your way.

[fandomnerd9602]

Absolutely

Elizabeth Luthor x Kryptonian!Reader

Request by @deafeningsharkslimeempath

Letting go of the past was never easy for you or for the woman you loved Elizabeth ‘Lizzie’ Luthor. You were Clark’s other cousin, a Kryptonian rocketed to Earth as a fierce warrior. The press dubbed you Absolute Superman. You were more focused on taking down the bad guys but Clark, Lois and Kara helped you to calm the anger and wrath within you.

Elizabeth Luthor never saw herself falling in love with a Kryptonian. And then she met you. She met your human persona when you went out for coffee one day. The two of you just seemed to click. The next day, she met your Superman persona when you saved the train she was on.

In truth, the Luthors always had an odd connection to the Kents. But love blossomed between you and her. You found the Lois to your Clark.

Your second cousins Jonathan and Jordan give you a hard time. A little ribbing every now and then but you love them. The three of you are able to train each other as Lizzie talks with Lois on the porch. Honestly being with you and the Kents helped Lizzie find the family unit that she was missing.

And then came trouble. You were playing a round of football with Clark and the boys. Lizzie was talking a little worriedly with Lois, normally you could easily tell what Lizzie was worried about but you wanted to respect her boundaries.

So trouble landed, that trouble known as the future in law, Lex Luthor. He landed outside the Kent farm as you and Elizabeth were having time with the rest of the family. Lex was clad in a green and purple armored suit. The visor came down revealing his face.

“After all this time,” he said thru gritted teeth. “All of you together on one location”

Lizzie didn’t even recognize her father at first. You stood in front of Lizzie and tried your best to guard her.

“Lex,” you stated, gesturing for Clark to stand down as well. “Please don’t do this. Not here. Not now.”

Lizzie was dumbstruck, “L-Lex? D-Dad?!”

“Elizabeth?” Lex was equally shocked. He tried to walk to her but she backtracked away from him. “What…why?”

“She’s my girlfriend,” you explained, your hands beginning to radiate solar energy only for Lizzie to put a hand on your bicep to calm you down.

“You framed me!!” Lex screamed at Clark who came up beside you “made my daughter cut me off”

“No I chose that, Father!” Lizzie shouted back. “It wasn’t your arrest that drove me away. It was finding out what kind of man you were”

Lex’s face just dropped as that realization hit him hard. It wasn’t Clark or Lois or you that drove Lizzie away from him, it was just him.

Tears began streaming down Elizabeth’s face as her voice became louder and clearer, “and I will not subject my baby to the likes of you!”

“What?!” Lex shouted.

“What?” You found yourself shocked for once in your life. Your Lizzie just took one of your hands and placed it over her flat stomach. You could feel an overwhelming sense of joy overtake you.

“I-I just found out three days ago” Lizzie admits with a little smile.

“Oh Liz” you found yourself whispering as you wrapped an arm around her and held her tenderly to your chest.

You turned to Clark and then to Lex, “please Lex, for the sake of your grandchild, just leave. Please.”

Lex looked one last time at Elizabeth. His heart shattered. It finally clicked in his head. It wasn’t the crime that he was framed for that shattered his relationship with his daughter, it was everything else.

The man was broken, to the core. So he powered up his suit and flew away.

You turned to Clark who clapped you on the back, “I’m amazed by you. You were the one who used to only care about stopping the bad guys.”

“Well what can I say?” You nuzzle your girlfriend, “this one helped me to change for the better”

Elizabeth Luthor kisses you softly as you all head inside to begin planning out the next few months of pregnancy and the rest of your life as parents.

[invincibledc]

“Lucky bastard”

(YJ version) Robin/Nightwing X Super!Reader

→Genre: Fluff

“Woah! I didn’t know you can cook a 5 star meal!” Wally said as he blitz over to check out the steak you made with asparagus. You only shrugged as you sit the place down, Wally immediately gobbled it up. Ending with him with a bloated belly filled with a good hot meal.

Robin walks in the kitchen to see you cleaning where you cooked as Wally looked at his best friend. “Dude! Sups over here can cook a mean dish. You gotta try their steak” he says. Robin smiled, “Aw man..wish I had my own plate when I came earlier..”

You rolled your eyes as you opened the microwave to pull out an extra plate of what Wally had. “I heard your stomach growling birdy. Eat up.” You put the plate gently on the counter as robin got a knife and fork to eat it. As he took the first bite, he went into flavor town as he couldn’t believe you made this. “Woah..”

“I know right dude! It’s amazing..you don’t mind if I take a small piece rig—” “NO BACK OFF WALLY!” Robin immediately covered his plate with his body. Eyes furrowed down, Wally backed away shock. “Woah man..didn’t know you were that hungry.” And with that, Wally sped off. Leaving you and Robin alone, you laughed at the speedster speeding away as Robin went ham mode on the steak.

Having steak juice running from his mouth made you cringe. You grabbed a paper towel as you inched towards him, wiping the juices off his mouth and side of his lips. You felt Robin tense with hearing his heart rate go up. The boy wonder slowly turns his head at you, you tried to ignore the teen’s stare as you wiped the last mess on his lips. Throwing away the paper towel, Robin caught your attention when he grabbed your wrist gently.

“Whoever marries you in the future is one lucky bastard.” He says with a smile, he then goes back to eating the steak and asparagus. You only laughed, walking out the kitchen as the boy wonder feed himself to what he feel inlove with.

Years later….

Dick was in his casual clothes as he looked outside the window, showing the beautiful night sky. He smiled, looking down at his left hand. That beautiful ring that shows off who he belongs to, that moment was ruined when his stomach growled. Dick groaned, sitting down in his bed as he wondered when dinner will be done.

But the gods have answered when your voice ran through the apartment

“DICK!! Dinner is done, I can hear that monster of your stomach calling for food!” You yelled, ending it with that beautiful laugh of yours. Dick’s eyes widened, getting up from the bed and running down the hall to the kitchen. There you were with an apron as Hailey barked seeing her human dad. “Ah it’s my favorite…the one that made me fall in love with you.” He pointed to the plate you held out to him.

“Steak and asparagus.” You both said, laughing before dick kissed you sweetly on your lips. You had to move the plate from you as dick then started to hungrily kiss you, having one hand on your lower back. Pushing your body towards him more. You had to break the kiss as dick laid his head on your shoulder.

“Cmon let’s eat, dick..” you said smiling, dick hummed. Smiling with a nod of his own he took his plate while you took yours.

He sure is a lucky bastard for life.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"SMILE FOR THE CAMERA BABY"

TIM DRAKE X KRYPTONIAN!READER

*SNAP ZOOM CLICK*

The camera zooms in on your naked body, taking in every inch of your curves, every contour, every scar, every stretch mark, every spot you try to wiggle away from the camera's vision. But all Tim had to do was move his hands or move your body. You were usually so much stronger than him, but tonight you were weaker, your link to the Kryptonite chains holding your power back, a green glow dancing over your skin. You felt so weak and small under him, whimpering and gasping for air as the camera continued to follow your every move. "You like the cuff I made for you? Took me a couple of months. I had to raid Bruce's Kryptonite stash just to find the perfect one for you." You could see the cocky smile on his face behind the camera. Why did he have to be so perverted? You started to gain your bearings just a little bit until BUZZ. "GAAH!" you moaned out, your body arching, tears rolling down your face. He rubbed your abdomen gently, calming you down, keeping your back pushed against the bed. "It's all right, baby, I'm here," he chuckled softly, the cocky bastard, putting the vibrator on high just to see how you would react. He's evil like that, villainous like that, rubbing circles with the vibrator on your sensitive bud, seeing you shiver and shake. "Aww, crybaby, I'll take good care of you. Just a few more for tonight, or maybe not; this way is too fun." He licked and kissed your tears away from the overwhelming pleasure, putting the vibrator back on high, guiding it up and down your wetness, humming along with the rhythm of the toy. Your body started to go limp, your mouth slacking open as another orgasm hit you like a truck. "Not putting up a fight," he mumbled against your cheek. You stopped thrashing around, pulling out of the cuffs, your body relaxing as you let your thighs tremble. His lips found yours in a heated and sloppy kiss, his tongue dropping down into your throat, making you whine. The kiss separated with a string of saliva connecting your mouths. If you remembered correctly, drool trickled down the corner of your mouth as you gasped for air. Here you lay during the interview. Tim's kisses got desperate as he made his way from your chin down to your neck, placing bites on your collarbones. His lips continued to travel, sucking on your nipples. The camera was still in focus, moving an inch down to where the vibrator was sitting, still buzzing loudly. "That's enough of machines; let me make you scream in the right way." His warm tongue flicked against that sweet bud, and you moaned, your head falling back as you thrashed against the cuffs. "Baby, break these one, and I'll make the next ones even stronger." He suckled gently on your bud with a purr; all you could do was nod.

[gatorbites-imagines]

the idea of an alternate mark/multiple of them trying to attack a kryptonian reader (or even just. A reader that’s stronger than them) and just . breaking their hands absolutely kills me,,, seemingly normal human guy just standing there while the marks are just punching him like he’s a wall - he’s safe even before he pet-ifies them

Alternate Marks (Petvincibles) x kryptonian male reader 

Headcanons 

I just thought this scenario was really funny, so I decided to cook up a more solid thing for it. 

Imagine, you are a powerful kryptonian villain from the DC universe. You have obviously built a resistance to kryptonite and other kryptonian weaknesses, you are unstoppable. 

Or well, you should have been. In the end, Kal-El and his justice league defeat you with the power of friendship. 

Kal-El, being the kindhearted man he is, offers to let you serve your punishment in a different universe if you behave. This might also be because you are one of the few kryptonians left, so he doesn't want you to die or anything. 

In the end his passion, kindness and sunny personality makes you see the light, as villains tend to do. You agree to serve out your sentence in a different universe,  

The universe you end up being sent to, is the one from invincible, since it has nothing to do with the people you are used too. 

Batman helped you set up a fake identity before you crossed over, ironclad enough that even the GDA would never think it was fake. 

Ironically, you settle down as a journalist. It's a bit embarrassing in the beginning that you end up doing the same thing as Kal-El, but you swallow your pride and just live a normal human life. 

Sure, you could have helped save this planet and many lives, but, you weren't Kal-El, you felt no need to defend anyone or anything. Even when your sensitive hearing picked up on the guardians being killed, you did nothing. 

Not your circus, not your monkeys. You enjoyed your (retirement) punishment too much. 

You were enjoying your day off when the chuckleheads showed up through their portals.  

You had just gotten out of your shower, put on some comfy sweats and a t-shirt, ready to munch down on takeout and watch horrible reality tv, when your telenovela changed to the news instead. 

Normally, you would just have left it alone. Other heroes would take care of it, like always. And it would have stayed that way, until you watched this cadmus suit wearing fucker destroy your workplace. 

Luckily it was the bimonthly “nobody is in the building” day, so there was no one inside, but still, that was your job dude. 

When the news showed all of these numbnuts, and you saw just how the usual heroes were getting broken left and right, you realized you might have to step in. 

No way you were gonna let these guys destroy your retirement. You still owned your old suit, the one the justice league had beat you in, but you felt no need to put it on for this. 

This was simply you disciplining a group of brats, no need to take it too seriously. 

You were faster, stronger, bigger, sturdier, everything they could dream of being, so obviously you reach one of them first.  

This one just happened to look like a bee, or a wasp. And he seemed so entertained by your presence, his very energy grated your nerves, acting like he was sure to win and that this was all a mild inconvenience. 

That is, until he threw a punch and you didn't move, tired and bored expression on your face. 

Sinister had assumed this would be easy, just another useless fool to punch a hole through. Well, it would have been, if his fist didn't shatter when it met your chest. 

A shocked guttural yell pulls him his chest as he feels his arm break all the way up to his elbow, just from punching you with all his might. It left Sinister feeling shocked for a moment, and a moment was all you needed to beat him. 

Past you would have killed him, but Kal-el had been so serious about you growing as a person and being better, so you just... tuck him under your arm and fly off for the next invincible. 

It wouldn't take long for the GDA and public to notice their attackers being taken out, by a guy in sweatpants and a hello kitty shirt of all things too. 

Normal Mark would immediately tense, ready to fight even if he knows he wouldn't stand a chance after seeing you take out all his alternate selves so quickly and easily. 

“Relax, I'm retired” you tell him, holding a hand out as if to comfort him. Mark doesn't really know what to do with you, seeing someone so fucking strong just... chilling. You could clearly have beat his dad, so why didn't you? 

“didn't feel like it” you shrug. Then why take out these guys? “Destroyed my favorite coffee shop and my workplace” 

The GDA obviously want you to hand over the alternate Marks, where you just bark a laugh in their face. “Yeah right. I know what you government folk do to people like them”. So, you end up bringing all the vincibles back to your place. 

This is probably also the best place they can do, since you are the only one able to contain them. 

When they wake up, they are obviously gonna attack you again, from wounded pride or whatever else they might be experiencing. You easily keep up, beating them down again and again until they are mellowed out. 

You also give them the whole speech Kal-El gave you, about being better and whatever. The speech isn't what slowly turns them, but rather just you in general. 

Maybe its viltrumite biology to be into people who are stronger, or it's because you are such a strong figure, but they start to become “pet-ified” as we say. 

Chances are, you still have contact with the justice league, who helps you offer all the Marks ways into other universes where they can start afresh, and be heroes. But they all decide to stick with you instead as they have grown attached, like feral tomcats. 

GDA isn't happy about it obviously, but what the hell are they gonna do about it? Normal Mark wouldn't be happy about it either, but he would at least just kinda grow to accept it over time. 

Luckily for you, nobody really noticed or got your face on camera when you picked the vincibles up either, so you are able to return to work a while later.  

All is swell, but your apartment, and earth itself, is starting to feel stuffy. Maybe it's finally time to leave the planet and start exploring the galaxy, and you have a feeling the vincibles would follow if you did. Except of course, the original one, perhaps.  

[annlyticalarchive]

CHAPTER NINE: The Date, the Dog, and the Domain

”You will be different, sometimes you’ll feel like an outcast, but you’ll never be alone”

Mark Grayson X Kryptonian/Clark Kent! Reader

Prologue|Chapter Eight|Chapter Nine (Here)| Chapter Ten

w/c: 5.6k

a/n: two rewrites done and still not incredibly happy with it, but it’s mainly just the two goobers so I’m content with it

“Superwoman!”

You loved Lois. You really did. She was one of your best friends.

But if you heard—

“Lois Lane, I’d like to interview you for the Daily Planet!” And speak of the devil, and she’ll appear.

You pushed through the crowd that had gathered around you in the park, phones out and filming you and the grounded plane behind you.

“I’m sorry, no comment,” you said with your most polite smile, beginning to hover just out of reach.

“Wait—” Lois started, but you were already gone.

By the fifth time it happened that morning, you were starting to feel genuinely sorry for her.

Well right up until she snapped a cuff on your wrist and then the other on hers.

“I’m getting—” She had to pause, doubled over with one hand on her knees, breathless. “—an interview.”

“Miss Lane…” you sighed, looking at the ridiculous pair of handcuffs connecting you. With your strength, you could break them easily. But you knew that even you couldn’t run from Lois when she wanted something. So, you might as well just give her the exclusive.

“Alright,” you muttered, resigned. You gently scooped her up and took off, heading straight for the rooftop of the Daily Planet.

You touched down lightly, setting Lois on her feet as she fumbled to pull out her recorder with her one free hand, her dominant one now locked to yours.

“Lois Lane, reporter for the Daily Planet,” she said, still catching her breath. “And I have some questions for you.”

“That much is clear.” You folded your arms as best as you could with a reporter attached to one of them. “You’ve been trying to catch me for days.”

“Hah, well—” Lois gave a breathless chuckle, shaking her head before composing herself. “Superwoman, would you be willing to answer a few questions for the people?”

“The people deserve truth and transparency,” you said, nodding. Her face lit up, and guilt twisted in your chest. It didn’t feel great, keeping your secret from her.

“Okay,” she said eagerly. “Who are you?”

“You’ve named me Superwoman. I’ve been told it suits me.” You smiled.

“Yeah, I didn’t think I’d get your identity that easy,” she muttered, shifting gears. “Where are you from?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Space?” you said, then clarified with a shrug, “But I was raised on Earth.”

She blinked. “Okay… so, alien.”

“Technically,” you nodded. “But Earth is my home.”

She nodded thoughtfully and moved on. “What can you do?”

“I’m not entirely sure of the full extent yet,” you said with a shrug. “I’m still figuring it out. Strength, flight, speed, durability, that sort of thing.”

She glanced at your still-linked wrists, recorder still running. “Are you a member of any hero organization? Any government contract?”

“No,” you said firmly. “I don’t take orders. I don’t want someone telling me who I can and cannot save.”

Lois nodded slowly, thoughtful. “Then who holds you accountable?”

That made you pause.

You looked at her, really looked, and said quietly, “I do.”

She blinked, thrown off for a beat. But then she nodded again, much smaller, more personal this time. “Okay.”

“I just want to help,” you added. “That’s all.”

She exhaled. “Okay. One more, what drives you to help?”

After a beat, you answered quietly, “Because I can. And I think if you can help, you should.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. She just studied you, softly and genuinely, like maybe she wasn’t just seeing the cape anymore.

Then, “That’s a good answer.”

You gave her a small smile. “It’s the truth.”

Lois reached into her bag and pulled out a tiny key, unlocking the cuffs with a smug little flourish. “Thanks for the exclusive, Superwoman.”

“Anytime, Miss Lane.”

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“You’re overthinking this,” Jimmy said from the couch, watching as you paced back and forth, two outfits in hand.

“I just—what do you think?” you asked, finally stopping and holding both options up to your chest.

“Green. The black’s too fancy,” he replied, propping his chin up with his palm.

“Thanks!” you said with relief, darting off to the shared bathroom.

As you slipped the green blouse over your head, Jimmy called through the closed door, “You do realize it’s just a coffee date, right? Mark’s not taking you to a five-star rooftop restaurant.”

“I know, but—” You paused, adjusting the waistband of your pants. “I’ve never really been on a proper date. I mean, there was Lana back in Smallville, but that wasn’t… this is different. Mark is different. I want this to be serious.”

“Kansas,” Jimmy groaned just as you stepped out of the bathroom, straightening your glasses with one hand.

He got up and placed both hands on your shoulders. “You’ve been pining for him for how long? You both mutually asked each other out after dinner with his family. You’ve got this. There’s literally nothing to worry about.”

You sighed, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ve got this.”

“And if you don’t, you’ve got me and Lois to cry on,” Jimmy added casually as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

You froze mid-step and shot him a glare.

“But you’ve got this! You do!” he rushed to say, nudging you toward the door. “Now go get him, farm girl!”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the grin tugging at the corner of your mouth as you stepped outside, the door clicking shut behind you.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The cozy cafe Mark picked was small and quiet, tucked between a bookstore and a florist.

The kind of place with real cups and mugs, soft indie music playing just loud enough to fill the silence, and walls lined with artwork painted by local artists with ‘For Sale’ stickers underneath them.

You spotted him through the front window before he saw you. He was already seated, nervously tapping his fingers on the table, a second mug waiting across from him.

He looked up just as you opened the door.

And his smile, soft and wide, made something warm bloom in your chest.

“Hey,” he said, standing a little too fast and bumping the table. “Sorry— hi. You look great.”

You smiled as you walked over, “You look nice too.”

He held your chair out without thinking, and you caught yourself grinning again as you sat.

“I didn’t keep you waiting long, did I?” you asked nervously as he slid back into his seat. “I know we said the time, but I wasn’t sure if—”

“It’s fine,” Mark said, cutting you off with a gentle laugh. “I know you run on ‘on time is late’ logic, but seriously, you’re fine.”

The waitress came over to take your orders, two coffees and a small plate of assorted pastries, had you two pay, then left you to it.

You both settled in, and conversation flowed easily. At first it was a little awkward, at least for you. Stumbling over your words and  not knowing how ‘date talk’ works. Mark was sweet though, which calmed most your nerves.

“Wait, you played baseball?” Mark asked, grinning as he leaned forward. “Were you any good?”

“Eh,” you shrugged with a grimace. “Better on field than bat, I was scared of it. But I liked it. Small town league, nothing serious. My Pa was the assistant coach.”

Mark laughed. “Okay, now I have to know, what position?”

“Outfielder.”

“That tracks,” he said with a smirk.

You sipped your coffee. “Let me guess, you were the home run king?”

“Pfft, not even close,” he chuckled. “I was okay, I remember I had one good home run, but other than that I was the strike out king. I think I peaked at neighborhood T-ball.”

You both laughed, the kind that warmed your ribs and made the coffee taste just a little sweeter.

“I’ve been reading some of my dad’s books,” Mark added. You vaguely remembered him mentioning them recently in passing, something about old adventures turned fiction.

“Oh yeah?”

“They seem like novels, but they’re based on him. His experiences. And I was thinking… maybe he ran into someone like you. One of you, I guess,” he said. “We could read them together, if you’d like?”

His voice was softer then, careful. You couldn’t tell if it was because of the subject or because it was you he was offering this to.

Before you could answer, your phone started to ring.

“I’m—ugh, I’m so sorry. Let me just—” you started as you pulled it from your bag, already fumbling to silence it. But your fingers paused when you saw the caller ID.

Ma.

Mark, who had been watching, glanced at the screen and gave you an easy smile. “You should probably take that.”

“You sure?” you asked, already half-rising from your seat.

“It’s your mom,” he said, shaking his head. “Of course. Go.”

You mouthed a quick thank you as you stepped toward the café’s front windows, lifting the phone to your ear.

“Hi, Ma,” you greeted, trying to keep your voice light.

“Hey, baby. I’m sorry—you're not at work, right?” Her voice was warm, familiar, grounding. But there was a twinge to it. A tension. Enough to make your stomach knot.

“No, it’s my day off. I’m out with a friend,” you said, shaking your head even though she couldn’t see it.

“Oh, I don’t mean to be a bother, but…” She paused, and the slight crackle of the speaker only made your nerves worse. “Something crashed out in the fields. Your Pa said it looked like your ship.”

Your blood went cold.

Without a word, you speed-walked back to the table, phone still pressed to your ear. “I’ll— yeah, I’ll run over real quick. I’ll take care of it.”

Mark stood up as you approached, clearly concerned. “What’s wrong?” he asked as you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder in one fluid motion.

“Something crashed on our farm,” you said breathlessly. “I need to check it out.”

Mark didn’t hesitate. “I’m coming with you.”

“You don’t have to— really, it’s fine—”

“I want to,” he said, tone firm, brows knit with a worried frown.

You paused. Maybe you agreed because it was Mark, or maybe because deep down, you knew he could help.

You nodded.

Together, the two of you ducked into a nearby alley. A moment later, two streaks of color lifted into the sky, one red and blue, the other blue and yellow, as you flew fast toward Smallville.

𓈒 ⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The fields of the Kent farm were bathed in late afternoon light when the two you descended, boots hitting the dirt with a sharp thud. Mark landed a half-second later beside you, eyes scanning the rows of corn that bordered the property.

You made a beeline toward the porch. Swinging the door open and walking in quickly while Mark hesitated at the doorway.

“Ma? Pa?” You called in the main room.

Your parents rounded the corner from the kitchen, Ma took your forearms in her hands. Pa, while admittedly giving Mark an odd look, waved the boy in.

“We haven’t gotten close since your Pa got a look at it,” Ma explained as she gently turned you toward the back door. “We called you right after.”

You nodded and waved Mark along. Out back, a thin plume of fading smoke still curled into the sky, like a beacon in the middle of the fields.

“Sorry meeting Ma wasn’t under better circumstances,” you said, trying to joke as you walked. It was the wheat season, so the field was like golden grass. The impact trail was obvious, a long scorched scar across the earth.

Mark chuckled from a few steps behind. “Knowing me, it could’ve been worse.”

And then you saw it.

The ship came into full view, smaller than yours, but otherwise a carbon copy. It sat completely still. No hum. No glow. No movement.

Nothing.

Not until you stepped closer and reached out, your fingertips brushing the surface, despite Mark’s quiet, urgent, “Wait—”

A sharp hiss split the silence.

And then

white.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Mark ducked back just in time as a white blur exploded from the hatch, slamming into you and launching you across the field like a ragdoll.

He shouted your name, taking off after you without hesitation.

You hit the ground hard, skidding through dirt and grass as the blur gave chase. Before you could even fully stop, it hit you again, square in the chest with a solid enough thud that Mark could hear knock the wind from your lungs.

Mark didn’t think, instead he dove, arms outstretched, and managed to grab hold of something furry and thrashing. But it squirmed violently in his grip, let out a low growl, and launched itself off him with force strong enough to crack something in his ribs.

He barely caught his breath before it pinned him to the ground. His goggles flickered, vision momentarily blurry, until it cleared.

And then he realized what had him pinned was a dog.

A very angry dog.

White fur. Bared teeth. Piercing blue eyes.

Or rather, eyes that were blue until they weren’t. A glowing red hue started to burn through the irises, heat building behind its gaze.

“No!” your voice rang out across the field, slicing through the tension like lightning. The hound’s ears perked. Its head snapped toward you.

It kicked off Mark’s chest so hard that he doubled over with a wheeze, coughing, definitely bruised, maybe worse.

But when the hound barreled into you again, it didn’t attack.

It bounced.

Literally bounced.

Tail wagging. Tongue flopping. Eyes wide. It leapt up, licked your cheek, dropped to the ground, and bounced again like it hadn’t just tried to kill Mark seconds earlier.

“Mark!” you yelled, still a bit breathless, arms up in a loose shield as the creature practically climbed over you in excitement. “You okay?”

For a brief moment, he wanted to say something stupid like Not when you say my name like that, but all that came out was a dazed, “Yeah. I think so.”

He pushed himself up slowly, wincing. His ribs protested every movement.

You grunted, finally managing to shove the dog off. But instead of backing away, it latched onto your cape in its teeth and started tugging like it was playing tug-of-war.

If it wasn’t so shocking, Mark would find it endearing.

“Stop! Quit it!” you barked, trying to yank the fabric free, but the dog just wagged harder and dragged you several feet, toward the ship.

It let go only once you were directly in front of it.

Then, with a small huff, it bounded back into the pod and reemerged with something clutched in its jaws: a crystal, about the size of a hand.

The dog padded toward you, tail still wagging, and plopped the crystal into your lap with a satisfied little chuff before sitting down and staring at you, ears perked like it had done the best trick in the world.

Mark approached cautiously, only to stop as the dog lifted its head and gave a low, unmistakable growl, hackles bristling.

But then you made a sharp sound, one that Mark can easily see you using to get a farm animal’s attention.

And just like that, it settled again.

Mark crouched beside you, resting a hand gently on your shoulder as you stared down at the crystal.

“It’s a dog,” you breathed, glancing up at him. Your eyes were wide, disbelieving. “Alien dog. Are there any alien dogs in your dad’s books?”

“None that I’ve read,” Mark huffed, he was still working his way through him, but for some reason he doubted it’d be in there anyway. “You okay?”

You nodded, standing up and patting your chest, “Yeah, just got the air knocked outta me. Not used to that.”

Mark’s hand drifted from your shoulder, down your arm, to your hand that holds the crystal. “You sure?”

“I’m good, promise,” You turn to give him a reassuring smile, your cheeks flushed.

He watched as you hummed and stood up, the dog quickly gaining energy as it bounced around your feet.

“I’ve seen something like this before…” you murmured, staring down at the crystal. Then you looked to Mark, then back toward the house, and finally, toward the barn at the edge of the field. “C’mere.”

Mark followed you across the grass and through the creaking barn doors. Dust floated in the golden light filtering through the roofing. You walked past old equipment and a sun-faded tractor to a shape hidden beneath a thick tarp.

You grabbed the edge and pulled. Beneath it sat your pod.

“This is my ship,” you said, glancing back at him. “When the vision ended, I saw crystal things like this one, they slid back into the walls here.”

You stepped closer, fingers tracing the narrow seams in the pod’s inner casing outlines where similar crystals had once clicked perfectly into place.

“So you think they’re like… flash drives?” Mark asked, planting his hands on his hips. “Crystal flash drives. Man, I wish that was the weirdest thing I’ve seen from space.”

You made a breathy noise, like a laugh cut short as you tensed, and Mark was about to ask what was wrong until he heard it. A crackle.

Mark stiffened. So did the dog, ears snapping forward as it growled low in its throat.

Mark stepped forward, subtly shifting his stance now fully between you and the sound.

A familiar figure stood framed in the barn doorway, backlit by the setting sun. Scarred. Calm. Watching.

Director Cecil Stedman.

“You know,” he said, voice casual like he’d been here all afternoon, “I almost believed you when you said you didn’t want attention.”

His eye flicked from you to the pod, then to the dog.

“And maybe you don’t know this,” he continued, “but when a ship that matches the one you came down in, crashes down from a suspended orbit around the sun? That’s not exactly subtle.”

“I told you to stay the hell away,” Mark said, low and dangerous.

“And I told you we were watching,” Cecil replied with a sigh. “But now it seems like we’ve moved past requirements for watching.”

He looked back to you with growing irritation. “What have you done? What is that thing, and more importantly, what is happening in the Arctic?”

You stepped forward, voice cool and even despite the adrenaline humming in your blood.

“I’ll be honest and say, I don’t know. But what I do know?” you said. “You’re on private property, uninvited, Director.”

The dog growled, a low rumble vibrating through the whole barn.

Cecil’s brow lifted just slightly. The only sign he’d registered the threat.

He didn’t move.

Behind you, Mark took another step forward, now standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

“I know how this looks,” Cecil said after a beat, voice tight with frustration. “But a large unknown energy surge appeared in the Arctic Circle. The readings matched whatever that came down in.”

He gestured broadly to the dog at your feet.

“And I need to know,” he continued, eyes locking with yours, “if you’re the reason the the next invasion happens. Intentional or not.”

Mark’s expression darkened immediately.

“You serious right now?” he snapped, stepping forward, his fists clenched. “You show up unannounced, throw accusations around, and the first thing you do is threaten her?”

“Mark,” you said softly, placing a hand on his arm.

He didn’t look at you right away, but he stilled under your touch. You stepped around him, calm but firm as you faced Cecil directly.

“Look, if you’re genuinely that concerned,” you said evenly, “I’ll go check it out.”

Cecil’s eyes narrowed, scanning your face like he was trying to see through you. But after a pause, he gave a tight nod.

Without another word, he turned and walked back outside. A second later, he was gone, teleported back to whatever surveillance bunker he’d crawled out of.

Mark let out a slow breath as he stepped closer.

“You sure about this?” he asked, voice lower now, more concern than anger. Not that the anger had really faded, just taken a backseat. “You don’t owe him anything. You don’t owe them anything.”

You hesitated, your gaze drifting toward the ship, then to the dog, now curled lazily on the floor of the barn.

Then you looked back at him.

“I think these ships… They only activate for me,” you said softly. “Like they recognize me, or my DNA, or something.”

Mark frowned. “You think that’s why they’re showing up? Because of you?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But if they’re drawn to me, or if someone’s sending them, then I need to figure it out before someone else gets hurt. It’s my responsibility.”

He watched you for a second. You weren’t panicked. You weren’t scared. You were steady. Determined. And it made something tighten in his chest.

“Okay,” he said, exhaling. “Then I’m coming with you.”

You gave him a quick smile, bumping your shoulder against his. “Wouldn’t expect anything else.”

From the grass, the white dog let out a soft whine, tail thumping once against the dirt.

Mark raised an eyebrow. “So… are we bringing that thing too?”

“Of course we are,” you murmured, frowning like he was the one being weird. “We have to bring it.”

“We have to?” he echoed, eyebrows raised, hands settling on his hips.

“It came out of a pod,” you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re probably going to check out another pod. It’s a logical decision, Mark.”

“Obvious. Totally logical,” he muttered, raising both hands in mock surrender, fighting the small smile tugging at his mouth. You were already defending the furball like it was your little sibling. “Not like it knock both of us on our asses or anything.”

You ignored that, turning toward the barn with the dog at your heels, now practically prancing after you.

Back inside, your Ma and Pa looked about as surprised as Mark felt when the dog trotted in beside you like it’d always lived there. Your Ma blinked slowly, while your Pa muttered something about needing to redo the field.

You explained the situation, how there’s likely another crash, this one in the Arctic, and that you were going to check it out.

That you’d be careful. That you’d be back.

Your Ma hugged you.

But Mark?

He got a warning. A real, serious one.

“She’s strong, I know,” your Pa said lowly, hand firm on Mark’s shoulder. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t keep her safe. Understood?”

Mark nodded. “I will, sir. I promise.”

Outside, you lifted off first, the now late afternoon light catching in your hair as the wind rippled your cape. Mark followed a second later.

And sure enough, like it was the most natural thing in the world, the dog launched after you, legs kicking as it took to the air like it’d done it a hundred times.

Mark watched it for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Right,” he muttered, glancing over at you with a smirk. “Flying dog. Of course.”

You just grinned as the three of you soared north, toward cold winds and a glowing Arctic horizon.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Okay, okay,” Mark said through laughter, turning to face you with his mask on. “But you have to admit, you need a mask.”

You frowned, shouting a little over the rush of wind. “But the glasses!”

“Not exactly a mask,” Mark called back, grinning behind the lenses.

“Then what are your lenses for, bug boy?” you countered, making finger goggles at him.

“To keep the wind out of my eyes!” he argued, mock-offended.

You opened your mouth to retort, probably something scathing and perfect, but the air cracked like a whip.

Sharp. Sudden. Wrong.

Both of you went silent mid-flight.

Then, ahead of you in the snow-blanketed distance, something began rising.

Slowly at first, then with increasing speed, like a spiraling tower unfolding from the depths of the Earth. But not a tower. Not really.

A cluster.

Spikes of translucent blue-white crystal burst upward, spinning, threading together like a frozen bloom.

“Holy shit,” Mark muttered beside you, barely audible over the wind.

And then, barking.

The dog rocketed ahead, a streak of white against white, leaving a flurry of disturbed snow in its wake as it zeroed in on the structure.

You and Mark followed.

The fortress loomed the closer you got. It wasn’t just tall, it was enormous. Alien in design. Each spire jagged but symmetrical, arranged with the kind of deliberate, quiet logic that felt, simply put, alien.

You felt it in your bones before your boots touched the snow.

You landed a few paces behind the dog, Mark thudding into the snow beside you. The cold bit at your face, but you barely noticed. Your eyes were on the structure.

There was a door, or something like one, embedded in the crystal. Seamless and opaque. No handle, no indentation. Like it didn’t want to be opened.

Until the dog trotted up to it.

It barked once.

Loud. Echoing.

The crystal responded with a low resonance, like a chime underwater. Then the door began slowly sink back into the snow.

You stared.

Mark, behind you, let out a low breath. “Okay… that’s new.”

You didn’t reply. You were already moving forward.

The dog trotted through the now-open threshold without hesitation. You followed, heart pounding, senses buzzing. Mark was close behind.

The inside was dim but glowing, lit from within by crystalline veins that pulsed faintly in the walls. The hallway, if it could even be called that, was high-ceilinged, made entirely of seamless crystal, and unnaturally quiet. Every single thing was made of the same crystal. No footsteps echoed. No wind howled through. Just silence.

Then, at the end of the corridor, the dog stopped in front of another formation.

This one wasn’t a door. It was a pedestal. In the middle of a circular room. And in it, one single slot, like the crystals you’d found in the pods belong in there.

Your breath caught.

Mark stepped up beside you, rubbing his arms for warmth, eyes locked on the glowing pedestal.

“Is this..?”

“Like the ones I have?” you murmured, barely above a whisper. “I think so.”

The dog sat beside the pedestal, tail thumping against the crystal floor, gaze fixed on you expectantly.

Mark looked to you again.

You swallowed and reached into your bag that you’d brought, fingers brushing against the crystal you’d taken from the pod.

You slotted it into the hollow.

There was a sound like a bell ringing underwater, and then

light.

Brilliant and golden, flaring out in every direction.

And when it faded, a figure stood before you.

A man.

The same one from your vision. Sharp-featured, robed in layers of red and black, a circlet on his head, his eyes solemn and steady even in flickering light.

You held your breath.

“Do you recognize him?” Mark asked, voice quiet beside you.

You could only nod. “From my vision.”

The hologram opened its mouth and began to speak.

But the language that came out the same one you couldn’t understand.

You stared, heart tightening.

Mark glanced at you. “Yeah. That is definitely not any that I’ve heard.”

You almost laughed, but didn’t. You were too still, too focused.

The man paused, a sigh passing over his expression as if even the recorded message could feel your confusion. He raised one hand and raised it facing you.

From the pedestal, another crystal dislodged and rose.

Cautiously, you reached out. As your fingers brushed it, a flicker of light bloomed in your vision, projected into your mind more than your eyes.

You saw letters, an alphabet. Complex. Elegant and sharp. Completely unfamiliar.

But then, the letters shifted.

They morphed. Bent. Aligned themselves into something you could understand.

English.

It was a translation key.

You blinked, stunned, as more characters slid into place, one by one, matching up with their English counterparts.

Beside you, Mark tilted his head. “Is it working?”

You let out a breath, half-relieved, half-annoyed. “Yeah. Kind of. It’s like the Rosetta Stone.”

“So… you’re gonna have to learn your message?”

You glanced at him, deadpan. “Apparently.”

He let out a low whistle. “Man. That’s one hell of a voicemail.”

Despite yourself, you smiled.

But it didn’t last long.

Because the hologram hadn’t stopped. He was still speaking, still trying to reach you. And now, with the translator forming around you, slowly translating his words in pieces.

Not full sentences. Not yet.

But fragments.

“...my daughter…”

“...survival…”

“...Krypto... safe…”

You sucked in a breath.

The dog whined softly, pressing its body closer to your side.

You looked up at the stranger, no, your father’s flickering image, your heart pounding in your chest, not from fear.

But from something heavier.

A grief you felt like you had no business feeling.

He was a stranger. A ghost. And still, somewhere in the echo of his voice, you felt small, like a child left behind.

Without another word, you reached out and pulled the crystal from its slot.

The image stuttered once then blinked out entirely.

Mark said your name softly behind you, but you didn’t wait.

You turned and walked out of the chamber, leaving the crystal where it was.

“Let’s go,” you said, voice even. “It’s probably late back home.”

Mark didn’t argue.

He followed without a word. The dog padded after him, quiet but alert, as though it could feel the tension you weren’t voicing.

The flight back to Kansas was silent. Wind rushing. Sun beginning to dip low behind you.

When you landed in front of the farmhouse, your smile was automatic.

Your parents greeted you with warm voices and concerned eyes, but you waved it off. You asked them to keep an eye on Krypto, if you’d read the slowly translating message correctly, that was his name, for a few days while you figured out if Jimmy’s lease allowed dogs.

They said yes without hesitation.

And still, Mark frowned.

It wasn’t until you landed on the roof of your apartment building in the low light of the evening that he finally spoke, arms crossed, his posture rigid and tone blunt.

“You gonna actually tell me what’s wrong? Or do I have to force it out of you?”

You sighed, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your palm. “It’s nothing. Promise. Just…”

You hesitated, voice softening into guilt.

“I’m sorry our date got ruined.”

Mark’s brow furrowed, confused.

“I get it if you don’t want any more hero craziness in your life,” you continued, avoiding his eyes. “You’ve already got so much on your plate, your dad, Viltrumites, the GDA. You don’t need me throwing in a dead planet and a dead father I can’t even understand and—”

Your voice cracked as the words rushed out in a ramble, messy and fast. “—and I feel selfish, even trying to pretend I could have something normal. Like a date. Like us. I shouldn’t have expected that. I shouldn't have dragged you into this—”

“Hey.”

Mark stepped forward, cutting you off with a hand on your arm.

You finally looked up.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked, voice gentler now despite the irritation in his expression. “Do you seriously think I don’t want to be here? With you?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

Mark shook his head, stepping closer. “Yeah, I’ve got crap going on. You do too. And yeah, today got hijacked by… spaceship dogs and holographic dads and mysterious Fortress-of-Whatever in the Arctic.”

Despite yourself, a short laugh escaped your chest.

“But I’m not here because I want things to be easy,” he continued. “I’m here because it’s you. Because you make the hard stuff feel bearable. Even when you’re being stubborn and self-sacrificing like it’s a competitive sport.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how earnest he sounded.

“Also,” he added with a wry smile, “I don’t know if you know this, but I kinda like you.”

A breath of laughter slipped past your lips, shaky, quiet.

“You’re not mad?”

“I’m mad that you keep deciding how I feel,” he said gently. “But I’m not mad at you.”

You didn’t say anything. You just stepped forward, slipping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest.

Mark didn’t hesitate. He wrapped you up immediately, strong and steady, like he’d been waiting for the chance.

“…So,” he murmured, voice low and warm in your hair, “can I still count this as our first date?”

You tilted your head back just enough to look up at him.

“Yeah. But I’m paying for the next one.”

His grin tugged wider. “So there’s going to be a next one?”

“Of course. Here I thought you said you liked me,” you muttered, trying to pull away.

Emphasis on trying. He just held on tighter.

“Oh, I do,” he said, voice annoyingly smug now. “Which is why I’m not letting go until you say it back.”

You snorted. “Mark.”

“Say it.”

“I literally just said I’m paying for the next date��”

“That’s not the same and you know it.”

You groaned and dropped your forehead against his chest again. “Fine. I like you too. A lot. Happy now?”

He hummed, satisfied. “Very.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t pull away this time.

“…Wanna come in for a bit?” you asked, voice quieter. “I think we have leftover cake on the counter.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, smirk pulling at his lips. “Are we talking actual cake, or like..?”

You swatted his chest. “Actual cake, you perv.”

He grinned. “Still sounds great.”

And together, you made your way through the roof access door and downstairs.

[witherby]

is Conner magically linked to mouse somehow or is he so obsessed with them because there the first one he talked to beside lex luthor

Fantastic question! Conner has imprinted on Flittermouse!

I'm kinda sneaking in soulmate dynamics here a teeny bit, in the sense that Kryptonians' mating instincts have them search for partners with appealing biochemical markers to latch on to (usually for purposes of procreation, but obviously as they're both still minors that isn't playing a factor here). They also mate for life, so if they find an ideal match and imprint on them, chances of imprinting again are near zero.

Conner's biological instincts latched onto Mouse as a Great Match, and his body is responding in kind. He's found someone he desires, and now he has to win their favor in whatever manner his Kryptonian biology demands. He is becoming attuned to mouse so that his body knows where they are, how they're doing, and how he can best accommodate and protect them.

His body is in love even though he doesn't quite know what's going on yet.

[v-killallspiders]

HEIR TO THE STARS

Mark Grayson x Kryptonian!Reader

CHAPTER TWO: TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT

It had been three hours since Omni-Man had left the planet. It had been three hours since Mark Grayson’s battered, bruised body was recovered from the side of the mountain he had been abandoned on. It had been one hour since Mark Grayson had left surgery. 

You had been standing outside Mark’s hospital room for one hour. You weren't sure why. You didn’t know Mark and Mark sure as hell didn’t even know you existed - probably still wasn’t aware of your existence after your three second interaction a few hours ago. You were probably the last thing on his mind at that moment with his father tearing the city apart in a fury. 

You were broken out of your stupor by the sound of the door softly opening and closing, Debbie Grayson momentarily leaving her son’s bedside. Debbie looked confused for a beat before recognition dawned on her, “You.. you tried to save him. Tried to save my boy.”

You said nothing for a moment, simply taking in the older woman’s features. Mark was definitely her son, from those soft eyes to the curve of his mouth.

“I did,” you stated simply, giving her a small nod, your hand flexing slightly in the cast you had been given, “I should’ve done better. For him, for you, for everybody else.”

Debbie’s features softened, this was a girl the same age as her boy, her sweet boy. A girl who could’ve been her daughter, carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Carrying some sort of misguided guilt because she wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t fast enough to protect people from her husband. Debbie had to hold back the sob she so desperately wanted to let out. Instead she held strong, both for her and the young girl in front of her. Debbie took small, cautious steps towards you, as if approaching an injured animal.

“You tried, that’s all that matters and all that should matter,” Debbie murmured, hands rubbing softly up and down your arms. She nodded towards the room, “Go, I think he’d want to meet you.”

You said nothing as you looked into Debbie’s kind eyes, trying to find any sort of lie or hesitation in there, any sign that she would rather you leave. You found nothing, just pure, unwavering honesty and softness.

You hesitated before backing away from Debbie and making your way towards the room. Using your uninjured arm, you slowly pull the handle down to open the door. The sight that greets you inside is gut-wrenching. Mark looked so small laying in that bed. Smaller than you had ever seen before with his usually large presence and unwavering grin. His face was a patchwork mess of bruises, you couldn’t even see his one eye properly with how swollen and purple it was. 

You clench your jaw. This was your fault. If you’d have been smarter, stronger, faster- you could’ve beat Omni-Man. Could’ve saved Mark, could’ve saved all those other people in Chicago. If you’d have just been what Cecil had actually raised you to be, not this pathetic mess-

“You’re that girl..?” he whispers quietly, his voice raspy from unuse. You immediately try to leave the room, not prepared to actually talk to Mark after spending so many months watching over his shoulder like a guardian angel.

“Wait!,” Mark exclaims, trying to get up from the bed, grunting from the pain, “Don’t go, please.”

You freeze, hand firm on the door handle, prepared to flee at any point, “What’s your name?”

“It’s Y/N,” you reply softly, turning around to face Mark head on, for the first time ever.

“You’ve always been there haven’t you?” Mark asks, not accusing but not quite questioning either, “Always been over my shoulder, watching? Waiting?”

“You saw me?” You asked, completely avoiding his main question, eyes trying to look everywhere but at him.

“No, but I could always feel you. It was driving me crazy,” he murmurs, upper body flopping back onto the bed now that he knew you weren’t about to run off.

You didn’t say anything, simply moved to sit in the chair by his bedside.

“Why,” he asked, shutting his eyes as he leaned back into his pillows.

“Cecil was… concerned,” you paused, trying to find the right words to say that wouldn’t paint your father as a paranoid freak. Not that it would be an incorrect assumption to make.

Mark barks out a dry laugh, his jaw clenching, “Cecil wanted you to make sure I didn’t step out of line, huh?”

“Mark…” you sighed, “It’s not like that.”

Yes it was. Cecil didn’t have a full contingency for Omni-Man so he’d be damned if he had nothing for the older alien’s kid son. Although, you weren’t privy to the full details as to what Cecil had planned, which was frustrating in itself.

“Dont! Don’t sit there and lie to me please…” Mark snapped, before exhaling deeply, “Would you have ever come to me - if my dad didn’t decide to rearrange my entire fucking face?”

You flinch at his tone, “I don’t- I don’t know, Mark.”

Mark just nods in defeated silence, refusing to look at you.

“I’m Mark Grayson, what’s your name?” He suddenly blurts out, finally making eye contact with you, a slight twinkle in his eyes - a far cry from the defeated look he had mere moments ago.

You stare at him unblinking before a soft smile breaks out on your face, “I’m Y/N Stedman, let’s be friends?”

[hattersrabbit]

Hold up because yandere avengers x kryptonian! reader was so GOOD can we have a pt 2 please

(I'll actually go on knees for pt 2 but ofc if you don't want to make one that's up to you!)

BYE BYE, BABY BLUE

yandere avengers x kryptonian reader | sfw

CW! male reader, denial of reality, possessive behavior, blame of self, batman/Bruce wayne exists in this universe, jealous avengers, superbat (kinda, Bruce x Reader, more platonic tho),attempted murder

Summary! You've grown tired, and you've kept excusing that nothing is wrong with your team mates. It only gets worse when you meet someone who tells you what actually is going on

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˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

It been so long since you've had time to yourself. Asking Peter to go back to New York until something actually important happens you would call him.

Thankfully the younger man was a lot more convincable than the others. Wanda and Tony he thinks most importantly weren't that convincable.

Just for now; you were alone with Kyrpto who refused to move away from you.

You would never let him be away from you. You two may be aliens but you had feelings and the tension with your team mates was horrible.

Suffocating.

As if you were something helpless. Too naive but you noticed it all but didn't know why. Why was this happening to you.

At least until he walked into your life. A man with black hair and the most piercing of blue eyes. A man named Bruce Wayne with his son, Dick Grayson.

Whilst dealing with the avengers any time you got time alone you would talk to Bruce. The man had come to own your place of employment. Any time he visited which was rare but when he did you two would always talk a storm.

So close that he figured out your identity, and you figured out the fact he was Batman. A cryptid and the Robin by his side. To his word; you were the only one he told.

Best of friends and the finest. You had started getting traction in Gotham and helping Batman and Robin. A token meta in the world of Gotham.

Gotham wasn't known for safety, and word travels fast.

And one time it got bad.

Tony was fussing over you being in Gotham. He felt irratible about the fact you were conversing with this Batman. He was begging you to stay with him at the tower with Pepper.

Steve was yelling at him.

Bucky was standing too close to you. Him and Steve seeming to hold some connection of what to do.

With you.

You didn't like it, and while it hurt you to do so your pushed the men off of you. Without a word you flew off frantically. With your super hearing you could hear Tony getting his suit on, and the calling of Thor and Wanda.

It was futile to make you stop. You pleaded for them all to stop but they never did. All in the place of love, and making sure you were okay. You were new to this, but they were wrong.

Lex Luthor was dead. You came to know that when Tony Stark took control of his company. It was alarming, and suddenly kryptonite disappeared.

You didn't understand why this was happening. It wasn't hard to see how Wanda's murderous aura became big when you would ask about Lex Luthor.

Peter would seeth out a response.

You confronted them. Steve was quick to deny it. To deny the too close of touch that he and Bucky tried to force onto you. The overall fact that you were stuck in a invisible cage.

Clint and Natasha seemingly trying to hide the bloodlust they had when another assailant came to have Kyrptonite. In horror watching how they became something worse.

Thor's hammer, just as it did for Thanos, blood was shed. You were in horror as the hammer crushed the green crystal.

No you couldn't stand Banner's excessive mother henning. No Tony, you can't take my blood and make my suit even bulkier. You could stand it anymore.

Suffocating.

The breeze rushing past feeling dark. Thor and Wanda most definitely on your tail.

You tucked your fear all the way back into your stomach. Your mind flashed with images of Bruce's face. That kind man always knowing what to say despite his reputation of being a playboy.

You could feel tears falling down your face as you sped off to Gotham; Bruce's home of address.

"B! It's [ ]!" Dick would shout from seeing you land on the balcony. True to Gotham weather it was raining. Your own tears mixing in with the rain.

And then Bruce was there.

The balcony doors opened and you found your way into Bruce's arms, careful not to break his mortal body. "I know you said no metas but I just-" You cried to him.

The normally stoic Bruce that you came to know comforted you better than anyone of the avengers. Even the likes of Peter who was above all sweet, but it wasn't Bruce.

"What happened?" He would ask you while holding you. His butler, Alfred and Dick watching with worried eyes.

"The avengers...I don't know why but they've just gotten so...overbearing..."

You were naive, sure, but you you knew better. You were sheltered but you knew off behavior. The same kind of eyes staring from your town. The weird farm boy that people didn't know when he got there.

For good reason your new parents protected you from the world. Afraid that everyone in that damn town would hurt you despite your strength and powers.

You shivered remembering Tony's stare at you. The way his voice went up at the notion of you in Gotham, and working with the Batman.

Pictures of you and Bruce at your place of work.

It hadn't been long since you revealed your identity and that you were exactly human.

Thinking your naive nature and thinking you don't know that Bruce was a playboy, when he wasn't. Coming to know the man he did it to mask the pain of his tragedy.

Recently he stopped do so, but still kept up his flirty personality.

"Words and actions. Always angry that I'm alone without them, or with you or in Gotham. As if I'm not a fucking hero! As if I'm not an alien with strength above them!"

Your chest hurt as you relayed all the repressed feelings you felt in your chest. Krypto who had yet to leave your side rubbed up against you. You barely noticed the contact.

Bruce simply rubbed circles into your back. Alfred and Dick came back with cookies and tea for you all.

Your eyes always flickering to the windows. Scared to see Wanda's flickering red eyes and misty powers. Her ability to mess with your brain. Despite all of Bruce's help in strengthening your mind she would always penetrate it.

Sometimes you felt like things were missing from your memory. Or you seem to black out and suddenly in your room.

"You're something better than what they are. Better than me."

"Bruce-"

"They want to keep that pureness. Goodness is what they want, and they aren't good. The avengers have done things and have gone to the dark side. The scarlet witch is one big one."

You shivered at the mention of her name.

"Oh, [ ]. She's scaring you." Dick whispered. He brought a cookie to your lips slowly. You smiled seeing the boy try to cheer you up.

"Miss Maximoff is quite the danger isn't she? She's messed with your head?" Alfred inquired.

"Yes, I believe so." You gripped your hair. They were pulled off by Dick.

"No doubt a planned to keep you under wraps. Always one of them keeping an eye on you ever since kryptonite came to the public eye." Bruce responded. His sharp eyes on the window.

"Do you think you were followed?"

"Yes. They'll find me. I- I don't want them to find me!" You collapsed into yourself. Dick's small body hugging you tightly.

"Robin will protect you! Both Batman and Robin!" That boyish smile and hopeful expression. Once you had that outlook but since then it's broken down. You couldn't find a reason to smile when you were being smothered.

"Remember your stronger than them, and i can craft something to stop the mind control."

"Master Bruce."

"Yes, you can always leave and...joina group we've been trying to get together since the recent events with the avengers and you. I noticed it but I wished for you come to me, which you did." He brushed hair away from your tear stricken face.

"Maybe if I hadn't left then maybe Lex Luthor may not have..."

"I see." Bruce's voice deepened at the notion of death.

"It's not your fault, [ ]. You're something want to preserve. To believe that they are truly good. This new team; the Justice League would never treat you like that. I promise. People who love you would never do this." He held you to his body. Dick clinging hard to you.

Alfred had left to retrieve his shotgun.

"They don't care for your wants, [ ]. Otherwise, they'd understand you can take care of yourself. You're a hero not some child. They know you aren't, but anything bad to happen that would taint you it must be stopped."

"If I hadn't crashed-"

"If you hadn't crashed here then Metropolis would certainly be worse. You gave this world hope better than anyone!" Dick insisted. His hands cupping your face.

"Dick is right. What you've felt and seen is the truth. Don't let them continue." A rare smile crossed Bruce's face.

You noted how Dick visibly brightened at it.

"Quit them, and join our group; Diana would be overjoyed to have you with us again. Dick would be happy to see you more."

"Yeah! Those avengers of yours are really icky and scary." Dick giggled, and fake gagged after finishing his words.

Bruce chuckled. You're heart warming after digesting after all you've heard. The reality finally realized that what was happening wasn't good. They were smothering you like some baby when you were.

A human being that was bound to become hardened but that was the life of a hero.

"Okay. You promise to to not be like them." You pleaded.

"Of course, and if they find you right now me and Dick will defeat them. Alfred will be there with the shotgun too." He smiled bigger.

"For you!" Dick raised his hands. Sharp eyes on the window. Bruce's own eyes at the window with that Batman glare.

You heard her, but the loud gunshot stopped time. Unexpected, even for her.

This time you and Bruce couldn't find the care to stop the butler. Dick continued to hug you as Bruce stood up.

Already a message sent out for the rest of an upcoming league. The monster in the window down below with a shot to her stomach.

You felt at peace for now.

Even if you could hear all of their heartbeats.

Even the witch's heart was still beating.

[chikaras-garden]

Dick Grayson corrupting Superman’s sidekick. There’s sooooo many rules that Clark has for you and so many rules for Dick to break…

✨new AU unlocked✨ meet kryptonian!reader

You press yourself up against Dick’s chest and watch as what you’re doing dawns on him: his lips part to make way for a breathy laugh, and his eyes light up with a sparkle that’s overjoyed, if defiant—and more than a little dangerous. His arm snakes around your waist, and he bends to press a kiss underneath your ear.

“Aw, look at you,” he teases in a voice that’s just a little mean. One of his hands comes up to toy with the ends of your hair. “Clark never lets you have what you need, huh?”

Quickly, his hand grasps the back of your costume’s skirt—what a thin, useless little swath of red fabric it is—and hikes it up your waist. That hand then palms your ass, and Dick groans at the feel of how sweet, how round, how innocent you are.

“Please,” you beg. You’re pent up. You know this. He knows this. Everyone can see the wildness in your eyes, the innermost feelings that Clark—your mentor—has trained you to control.

It’s for everyone else’s good. That’s our burden. Our sacrifice.

“Don’t beg me,” Dick chastises gently, shit-eating grin etched onto his lips. His fingers dance along your hip, crawling from your back to your front, then down the inside of your thigh. You buck your hips into his hand and he answers by pressing his palm against your sex, rubbing you over your panties.

You’re not supposed to do this. You’re not supposed to feel this. Dick is— He’s your teammate. He’s a human. You’re a bundle of raw power, so uncontrolled that even Clark worries about your ability to keep yourself in line. That’s why you’re not allowed to fight alone. That’s why he’s training you—

Dick’s teeth nipping at your earlobe shakes you free of your thoughts. You’re dizzy with the feeling of him acting like putty in your hands, begging you when you’re usually the one begging him.

“Just take what you want, angel,” he whispers. “Won’t it be fun to lose it a little? Use me however you want?”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hello. (Bingo) Can you write Dark Clark Kent and plus size female kryptoian reader ?

.⋆｡The Last of His Kind｡⋆.

Dark!Clark Kent x plus size reader

Clark is no stranger to loneliness, but a mysterious ship in the middle of the desert could be just the answer he’s been searching for

Warnings: kryptonian!reader, DARK FIC but more soft than my usual stuff, naive reader, kidnapping?, possessive!clark, no use of Y/N, future isolation and controlling behaviour WC: 1k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Clark had always been alone in the universe, an unfortunate consequence of his own people’s arrogance and willing ignorance of the happenings of the world around them. He didn’t mind so much as he had never experienced anything different but after Zod and the briefest of hints that he wasn’t the last, Clark felt a deep stirring in his chest.

He often caught himself staring off into the void between stars, wondering if there were others out there. But his duty was to Earth, he couldn’t just leave because of some slim hope that other Kryptonians lived on a far away planet. And even if there were, they could be like Zod- power hungry and cruel. 

But on a cool day in late October, Clark got his chance to find out.

The office was almost empty, everyone having gone home early to beat the autumn storm that was predicted for later that evening, leaving Clark virtually alone in his block of cubicles. His article was almost done but he found himself picking it apart over and over again, like something deep in the recesses of his mind was telling him to delay returning home for as long as he could. Then, he heard it.

A heavy thud of something crashing into the earth, it had to be bigger than a meteor but far smaller than an airplane or weather balloon. Clark’s head tilted as he focused all of his senses to somewhere in the Sahara. The groan and pop of heated metal slowly cooling, the hiss of air escaping a pressurised chamber. He could smell gunpowder and dust that clung to the shell of whatever it was. But he could also hear the steady beat of something within the metal.

With a cautionary glance around the office, which was now absent of anyone save for him, Clark stood. He was careful enough to shut down his computer and gather his things but as soon as his bag was zipped and he was safely in the stairwell, he darted down the stairs, just barely keeping himself restrained enough not to go too fast and give himself away.

He could hear the beating slowly getting faster. He ran out of the building as the hissing ceased and the familiar turning of gears started, just like it had in the ship he discovered in the arctic. Clark stumbled over his work shoes, the buttons of his shirt practically flying off in his struggle to get out of them. If this was another Zod, he wouldn’t have much time to react before they started acclimating to Earth’s healthy sun. 

His glasses were barely off his nose when he finally heard it, a soft groan- delicate, gentle (as much as a groan could be) and Clark’s heart skipped a beat. She let out another soft sound and Clark finally took off. 

This could be it, the answer he needed so badly. Perhaps it was an elder who could really teach him about his home world, a child who had been lost just like him. But some deep part of his soul, a piece he had locked away a long time ago, wondered if it was someone his age, someone who would be his equal, his partner.

The sands of the Sahara quickly revealed a huge slash through the dunes, darkened by the heat of the ship’s dramatic entry. The ship itself was halfway buried in the sand, its black hull a stark contrast against the bright sand. Clark landed in front of its rounded end. 

Steam curled around the dark metal but he barely had time to appraise the vessel before a mechanical clanging began and the sand around its side started to shift. Clark darted forwards as a panel lifted and the earth around it immediately began to spill inside. He grabbed at the open frame and tugged the ship free just as its occupant became visible.

She was beautiful.

Large curves highlighted by tight spandex-like material, the exact same as his suit. The symbol spread over her generous chest consisted of two overlapping circles, one that he didn’t recognise even after his father’s lessons. Clark felt like he couldn’t even breathe as he looked down at her body, everything about her was captivating, hypnotising, everything he had ever wanted. Her hair was pulled back and away from her face, allowing him to observe every blemish and mark of her skin in extraordinary detail. She was a goddess in its truest sense, an ethereal being in mortal form.

And when she finally opened her eyes, he was met with the most brilliant shade of e/c he had ever seen. Panic briefly flashed across her face before she saw his own house symbol and immediately relaxed, her expression more calm than he thought it should be in this situation.

“I’m Kal-El.” Her eyes sparkled in the strong rays of the sun as a small smile crept onto her face.

“Kal.” She repeated his name back to him in a voice far more pleasant than he had ever heard before. Her lips parted again but suddenly her body rocked forwards, as painful coughs rattled through her lungs. Clark swept her into his arms without thinking and pressed her to his chest. She limply clutched at his back as she continued to cough.

He flinched with each of her laboured inhales, his own chest burning with a rage he couldn’t explain. But what he did know was that no one else could know of her. Only god knew what would happen if any government found out about another Kryptonian, especially a female one. Lois and his mother would try to corrupt her mind, encouraging her to leave him.

He wouldn’t let that happen. He would never let himself be alone again.

He could protect her, mould her. She would be safe. No one would know of her existence, not until she knew who exactly she belonged to, the only person that she would ever be able to trust.

Clark smirked as he cupped her head gently, his thumb tracing the apple of her perfect cheek. Oh yes, she was absolutely perfect.

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