saw supergirl last night,, i cried every ten minutes im not joking (spoilers under the cut)
- hate hate hated lobo bad he pmo (but had max like,, 10 minutes of screen time so it’s okay)
- “you are your mothers life” OH!! i was hysterical
- “you aren’t always nice, but you are kind.” GIRLS,, WRITE THIS DOWN.
- sm about being tough but being good too that hitttt. they saïd superman was about being kind but superGIRL is about being good doesn’t mean let people walk over you
HEYYYYY BESTIEEEE, im not online here or on my ig either but I hope you've been doing absolutely well 🥹❤️💓
hi omg!!! i’ve missed you oh my gosh, thank you!! i am doing really well :) i graduated uni and got a big girl job at a law firm im a real grown up now 🥲 i hope you’re doing amazing with your uni endeavours ♥️♥️
just wanted to let you know I loved reading your Coriolanus snow x reader works. Was wondering if there was a reason you took them down they were so perfect. Thank you for taking the time to write them
i didn’t take them down! i’ve just changed my URL and haven’t had the chance to go through every single link and update them one by one. i know i did do requiem and the masterlists, but LTPF and cold nights are much longer and would take me a while to change every individual link in those masterlists.
however! they are still easy to find on my ao3 and wattpad and i included links here for you that i hope will suffice until i get some free time!
summary: krypto won't leave you—a random civilian—alone, and clark is determined to find out why.
pairing: clark kent (2025) x wool!reader
wc: 3.7k
tags/warnings: don't get it twisted, this is kinda sad. light angst, really. mentions of death and the depiction of grief, some descriptions of injury (biting and being tackled by an alien dog. yk how it is.), strangers to friends (forced) to lovers (?) (one day. he catches feelings fast.).
requests/inbox
nav / clark kent masterlist
a/n: can you tell i've watched too many drag path and artemis II edits? because i have. also,,, i am mayhaps cooking up a clark series that is coming hopefully soon! i want to get a few more parts done before i post anything but look forward to that!!
and a biggest thank you to my idol and friend @spideyhexx for proofing this for me!! xx
Krypto really likes you. Really likes you.
Clark doesn't understand it! It feels like every week he has custody of the animal that he'll whistle for him, and he won't come. He's supposed to stay at the Fortress for the sake of the world's pet stores and dog treat reserves, but he's learned well enough by now that Krypto only listens when it's convenient for him. The last time he'd brought him to the mainland, he'd tracked down you. And dang it, there is something about you that the dog is addicted to.
At first, you'd been walking in the park. You didn't have a dog with you—Krypto loved playing with other animals but was barred from doing so without supervision because he was, by nature, too rough—you didn't have any food that he could see when he showed up to collect him, you seemed like a normal human going about your day.
"Gosh, I am so sorry, ma'am. This is so embarrassing." Clark says as soon as he touches down a few feet away, "He's nice! I promise, just excitable."
You take a brisk step back, hands clutched to your chest like you were afraid to touch the creature. "It's fine. Just leash your dog." You mumble, brushing off the white fur from your pant leg before hurrying on your way.
If you were phased by a flying dog harassing you and being rescued by Superman, you didn't show it beyond being mildly inconvenienced. Usually, people were quite nice to him and his (kind-of-sometimes) dog. Not that he expected it, necessarily, at least not in an egotistical way, but it was enough for your reaction to stick in his head for a while. Maybe you were allergic. Maybe you were in a rush, or you'd lost your job, or were just having a rough day. Clark had no idea.
He didn't expect it to matter, though, until it happened again.
You were in the street this time, a latte in hand, when Krypto tackled you. You tumbled to the pavement, rattled by the impact but otherwise fine as he sniffed and licked happily at your face.
Clark heard it—your groan and your mumbling of Krypto's name to attempt to get him off of you. He arrives across town a few minutes or so later, and the dog barks at him, giving you a moment's reprieve from sitting on your torso for you to get up.
"Could you at least consider the leash thing?" You huff, dusting off your clothes from pavement debris.
Clark grimaces, letting Krypto tug at his cape to try and pull him in your direction."I know, I should. I am so sorry, ma'am, seriously. He's supposed to stay at home; it's not usually a problem. Are you okay?"
"Fine, thank you."
And then you're gone again, tossing the crushed remains of your drink cup into the nearest bin on your way away.
Clark's expression is tight as he looks down at the dog again. "What the hey, dude? The same poor woman?"
He takes Krypto home and is determined that it won't happen again, considering the odds of that were so slim, and it was so awful. He was sent to earth to protect the humans here, not to let his cousin's dog maul them at his pleasure.
The next time, as unforgivable as the first two, he has to be more proactive. Well, post-active, if that's a real thing, but he couldn't let you run away without adequately apologizing somehow. Holding firm onto the furry menace's red collar, he calls after you this time. "Ma'am? Wait, please, only for a moment."
Against your better judgment, you turn.
He does appear so genuinely apologetic, which shouldn't surprise you as much as it does by its perceived sincerity.
"Let me buy you coffee, or something. I feel terrible." Clark offers, and you blink a couple of times in surprise, fingers flexing around the bag strap over your shoulder.
You should say no. You're a busy woman, after all; you have much better things to be doing than lingering in the company of Superman and the dog that seems determined to keep you in his orbit…But he definitely does owe you coffee.
"Very well," you agree stiffly, straightening your shoulders.
You hate that you actually enjoyed it. And you hate, even more, that you laughed the next time Krypto struck you down in the park, and you gave Clark Kent—er, Superman— your name, even if it was just your first.
You hated that you started becoming friends. Genuine, real friends. And Krypto seemed awfully proud of himself and his successful efforts.
It's making you question everything. Everything you thought you knew about him, and everything you thought you knew even about yourself.
You like, though, that within a month he'd let you into his apartment. It was hard to casually grab coffee or lunch or drinks on Krypto's schedule without him terrorizing the local businesses that Clark was intent on supporting. Bottom line, you knew where Superman lived, and that could only ever be a useful piece of information.
You're sitting on his couch, a cup of tea on the coffee table and a bowl of popcorn in your lap while he scrolls through channels in search of something interesting on Saturday afternoon TV, and Krypto is sitting in front of you, tail wagging and thumping hard against the floor.
You smile, leaning forward to scratch at his head. Krypto whines and licks at your palm, craning his neck to reach.
"Krypto, stop begging." Clark admonishes him, "She doesn't have to share with you."
You chuckle at that, turning your hand to scratch under his chin instead. "Can he have popcorn?"
"He can 'have' anything he chooses to sink his teeth into, that doesn't mean you have to share with him." Clark says, pausing his channel surfing to look over at you, a fond smile tugging at his lips. You were sinking into almost all of his waking thoughts at an alarming rate, but when he looked at you now, happy and content with the yellow sun streaming through the window onto your skin and no longer irritated by his semi-involuntary ward of an alien dog, he didn't mind one bit. "I do have treats for him, though. He can have as many of those as his little heart desires." He adds, standing to go collect the bag and opening it to hand to you on his way back, sitting down just a tiny bit closer to you than before. Maybe you wouldn't notice if he put his arm across the couch behind you?
Stupid, he thinks. Maybe "notice" isn't the right word. Mind? Care? It's worth a shot.
You thank him easily, taking the bag and shaking it before digging in, ordering Krypto to "spin" for the treat. Yeah, right.
Clark chuckles, shaking his head and returning his attention to the TV. He leans back against the cushions, deciding to keep his arms to himself. At least for now. He'll be braver next time. Probably.
That's to be going as well as he could have hoped otherwise, stealing occasional glances at your profile between commentary you both make about the elected show while you attempt, persistently, to teach Krypto tricks.
"Okay, now, sit, stay, good boy—don't move…"
Clark looks over in time to see you try to balance one of the tiny dog bones on Krypto's nose. He starts to smile, he feels the muscles in his cheeks twitch, and he's about to say something when—
CRUNCH
Krypto snaps his head up to try and grab the snack from you, instead clamping his jaws down on your hand and up your wrist from the less-than-favourable angle.
From any other dog in the universe it would be a mostly harmless nip—maybe it would startle you more than anything or sting for a few moments, maybe leave teeth-shaped bruises, but you'd be okay. From this dog, though, Clark knew it couldn't be anything good.
He jumps quickly into action, pushing Krypto back away from you and sliding onto the floor in front of you to take his place and look at your hand. His eyes are nearly bugging out of his head with panic as he grabs a nearby blanket to pull it over your hand so you won't have to see the damage. "I-I'm so sorry! You're okay, you're fine! You- you're gonna be fine!"
You're just sitting there, though. Silent, looking a little alarmed at best, as your cheeks flushed with warmth that crept up your neck from embarrassment.
"You're good, let me look. I'm just gonna look, okay? Then I'm gonna call for help." Clark says, assuming you must already be in shock. Krypto barks behind him, trying to jump up on his back to see what all this fuss was about, like he didn't cause it.
You swallow quickly, shaking your head and waving your other hand for him to stop. "No, it's alright! I-I'm fine, he didn't even get me—"
But Clark saw the bite happen; he heard it. It was a good one, as one might say when "good" meant absolutely terribly damaging, like watching an eight-year-old run in front of the swings on a playground and get kicked in the head. Except this was undoubtedly worse.
He lifts the blanket so he can look and you can't, certain that there will be blood and crushed—possibly visible— bones, but there's… none of that. Well, there may have been, but what's left is your hand, looking and feeling soft against his, and a few small puncture wounds that are sealing up right as the light hits it. There's a small amount of blood on the blanket, a little on your lap, but the source was disappearing.
Clark blinks, taken aback by what he's seeing. What he certainly, couldn't possibly be seeing. He swallows, slightly shaking his head. "C-can you move your fingers?" He asks, mostly on autopilot, and you know from the look on his face that you're caught. There's no use pretending.
You wiggle your fingers and flex your wrist. "Yeah, I'm fine." You say roughly.
"O-oh…" Is all he can manage, looking a little puzzled as he sinks back to sit on his heels, letting go of your hand and the air that felt so tight behind his ribcage.
A clock ticks somewhere down the hall, or maybe in another apartment or even another building, you're not quite sure, but it punctuates the tensity of the moment and syncs to the beat of your heart.
"You, uh…" He's lost for words, and honestly, so are you.
You knew it was a bad idea to let him get close. You knew it.
You knew it, but… You expected him to kill you. And he's not. At least not yet.
To Clark, in hindsight, it is odd that you were never too battered by Krypto jumping you while you went about your day. He knew better than anyone, spare Kara, that if Krypto is coming at you fast enough and you're not prepared, he could send you flying. Even if you are prepared, if you're human, it wouldn't matter. Though… Krypto had never shown all that much interest in humans at all. Of course, he sniffed you out, even in your entirely ordinary, persistently human everyday life.
"Uh…" He's speechless, looking you over with a more critical eye, now. If he hadn't seen your hand just heal in seconds under yellow sunlight, he wouldn't ever know you from a human he passed on the street. "You, um…"
You push the blanket off quickly and stand up. "I'm gonna go."
"No!" He says quickly, standing and grabbing your notably unbroken wrist. "Don't go- don't-.. I just… I… you're… Kryptonian?"
It was a lot to wrap his mind around that he wasn't one of merely two surviving people from his—their—planet.
"Or something," You mumble, pulling your wrist free, and he lets go easily. He only stands there, staring as you hurried to grab your things. You slow, though, when you realize he's watching. Not moving, not trying to throttle you, or crush you like a threat. Just… staring.
Against your better judgment, you turn to look at him.
Clark looks quietly sad. Sad, and shocked, but hurt, more than anything.
You hate that the look in his eyes hurts you, too, because it goes against everything you knew about trusting him and the inevitable cost of that.
"I-I'm not going to make you stay, but… I mean… I didn't know there wasn't more than one of us. On earth, I mean. Kara is off-planet, but- doesn't matter." He can't help but ramble a bit, shaking his head at himself. "You… why didn't you say anything?"
"It is… complicated." You admit, trying to fight against the kryptonite-laced look he's giving you, those big baby blues you've become unwillingly weak to.
Clark's jaw tightens and he nods. "Okay, well… You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, obviously, but… I'd love to know?" He chuckles awkwardly, scratching at the back of his neck. "Do you… know anything? About Krypton? Or… where have you been? Here? All this time? Or-"
You shake your head. "No. Not here." You answer vaguely. "I've been… elsewhere, most of my life. But I do know a lot about Krypton."
He blinks, knowing he's getting somewhere but based on the firm stiffness of your voice, he has to tread carefully if he doesn't want you to bolt. And he definitely doesn't. "About… what happened?"
You nod, but your feet stay planted near the door. Briefly, you glance up and down at his form, but every muscle in his body looks relaxed, somehow. It has to be contagious, because the tight grip you have on your sanity flies straight out of your body.
"I was sent here to kill you." You say bluntly, and his eyes widen and his shoulders tense. "If… that were to become necessary." You add after, for some reason wanting to soothe him over the bite.
But then his brow furrows, and he shakes his head. "I-.. What? If it becomes necessary? Why would it-.."
"I know of the mission you were sent here with, by your parents."
Clark just looks confused, guarded. "How?"
"My family was one of many that worked under yours back home. They were all scientists, but your father ran the show. Mine helped build your ship." You tilt your head. "He designed and installed the software that allowed them to send that message with you."
Clark frowns. "It was damaged." He tells you, but then quickly backtracks. "Not that I'm blaming him, of course! I don't remember it, but I'm sure it was a very difficult journey-"
"Blame him." You interrupt. "He made it faulty on purpose. He hoped you wouldn't survive the landing."
You know, consciously, the guilt you're feeling should be much deeper down than it is, shoved to the back of your mind to be contemplated late at night while you're attempting to sleep, but instead it's threatening to spill out of your mouth.
"But… I don't understand." He says quietly.
That confuses you, knowing the contents of the message he was sent with. "Kryptonians were, generally, greedy people. The planet was destroyed because of what they did to it, billions of lives were lost! My parents saved me the same way you were saved, but in secret; a ship made from scraps and leftover pieces of yours, because you were, by design, going to be the "Last Son of Krypton". I suppose you are, but either way, they didn't want you to kill Earth with greed the way that Krypton was."
"What… what are you talking about?" Clark asks, and Krypto whines at your feet, tilting his head at you, ears flopping to one side.
You blink in surprise. You had definitely told him way too much. What was there left to misunderstand? You take a small step closer to him, staring into his eyes. "If you try to hurt any humans, I will stop you. I've trained my whole life to do just that—so I don't know what kind of long game you think you're playing, but I've been playing it longer."
He shakes his head quickly. "No! No, gosh, I'd never hurt anyone! Not on purpose, at least, and not by accident either! I really, really try not to hurt anyone on accident-"
Something wasn't adding up. Or, he was an incredibly good actor. Which you greatly doubted.
"What makes you think that I would— my parents sent me to help people, to do good! As far as I've interpreted it, that doesn't include hurting anyone. Honest." He holds his hands up like he's surrendering as he rambles on.
Your eyes narrow marginally. "Take me to see this message, then." You already well knew the contents of the message. You hadn't seen it, but your parents had explained it in one of their own, undamaged, sent with you.
He nods immediately.
So there you are, standing in what he calls the "Fortress of Solitude", which, you cannot imagine anyone with evil intentions naming a lair something that corny. Even with your arms crossed defensively as you stared at the hologram, your worldview is starting to crumble. Not that he was your world or anything dumb like that, but more like your whole purpose. What you were raised for.
It's an uncomfortable thing to sit with—that maybe you were the bad guy here, gearing up all these years for the presumed inevitability of having to kill him when he truly was as genuine as most of the world said he was. The message glitches and skips again, and then starts from the beginning. You don't look at him.
Instead of again asking why you were under the impression that they sent him to kill people, he stays quiet.
It was probably a lot for him to take in, you think, that Krypton, or at least his parents, weren't as saintly as their minimal legacy led him to believe. And you felt… guilty.
You take a sharp breath in when one of his robots walks up to you, the mechanical whir of their joints stirring something in your chest.
"You are from Krypton." It states, though its possible there was a question in there somewhere. It didn't matter, because you turn your head quickly at the sound to face the automaton. The original design, you presume, fixed with a '1' painted on the chest plate. There were several robots here at the fortress. You had been greeted by another when you first arrived, but this one…
"Yes." You confirm, attention fully drawn from the hologram as you step closer to One and look them over. "I am."
"May I perform a preliminary scan for further research? Our only specimen is Superman."
You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat and holding out your arms. Kara must not have allowed him to, you think, and your heart aches at the thought.
"Hey, hey, no, would you leave her alone, please? Now isn't a good time." Clark sighs, trying to wave him away. He's obviously not in the mood, and you understand why, but it frustrates you anyway to see the automaton spoken to that way.
The blue lights flickering in the "eyes" of the robot shut down, and you shake your head. "No, please. You can scan me." You insist, voice wobbling.
Clark turns sharply to look at you, surprised to see tears in your eyes as they stay fixed on One.
One was sent with him, dormant in the remains of the ship in the barn at the Kansas property until he could establish the Fortress when he was old enough to really want his own space. The robot needed a small amount of fixing, but he found directions to do so in case of an emergency. It certainly was a big project for him as a teenager, but he was awfully proud of himself when he finished.
He never knew who designed him, the prototype used primarily to assist in the creation of new automatons and to do basic diagnostic scans. By now, it had some stubborn rusted spots and signs of its age, of the years it spent in a barn poorly protected from the elements.
"You grew up to be a beautiful young woman, Little Ro-Van." The robot comments casually as its head tips down to catalogue you from head to toe.
It's hard to stomach the praise coming from the voice of your father detached from any genuine feeling behind it. It was purely an observation, and objectively you knew that, but it hits you like a shower of kryptonite to your heart.
"You kept him." You say quietly when the scan was complete, eyes glued to One as he prattles off to upload the data to the computer system.
Clark nods, looking between you and the old robot. "Of course I did, I-"
He doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence, because you're throwing your arms around him and crying into his shoulder. His arms circle your waist automatically, and he rubs circles into your back.
"Thank you, thank you so much." You whimper into the material of his suit, now finding comfort in the smell rather than a threat.
It makes sense now, in some roundabout way.
"My family was one of many that worked under yours back home. They were all scientists, but your father ran the show. Mine helped build your ship."
That message had been all he'd left by his parents, but he would have done anything for scraps of something more of theirs. Even if now he knew they may not have been the people he thought they were.
"Of course." He says again, hardly thinking about it when he nudges his nose into your hair and presses a kiss to the top of your head, lips lingering when he doesn't want to let you go.
One has your father's voice, and Clark had been sent to earth to save that for you.
follow my library for notifications when i post something new! @runningfrom2am-library
concept of billy rivals w reader bc she's from an opposing gang but he doesn't draw on her or physically go up against her bc she's a Lady and whatnot and that offends her bc he's underestimating her so she tries to provoke him more
Hi! I just thought I’d let you know that the links to your fics are all broken. Do you have an AO3? I’d love to read your snow fics!
yes lol sorry i changed my user recently and havent gotten around to individually updating every single link on those yet, mb! but i'll be done school soon and hopefully get bored enough to do it.
that being said, i do have ao3! it's under my old user @/runningfrom2am but here's a link i hope will work! all my coryo series are up there :) the links for oneshots on here should work though! i do remember updating those :)
is it that sweet? @rainysday - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
