[⏳] Emia/Dumy/Enver - ENTP - She/They/👑/🦇/👻 - Scorpio - 18 - Theater Kid - 🇨🇱 - Autistic - Arctic Monkeys and Mitski Stan - <Vampires, ghosts, dragons and Werewolfs3.
The soulmate of Peter Maximoff, The wife of Cassian Andor, the partner of Mischa Bachinski, Ricky Potts and Jane Doe/Penny Lamb, Charlie Weasley's beloved, The damsel in distress of Xenk, the muse of Benedict Bridgerton the best friend of Anakin Skywalker, Allan Sherwood's best buddy, the main Ryan Gosling's Ken Barbie.
Mutuals<3 - My carrd - Tags that i have - About me! - Request rules - characters i write for - Masterlist - pfp/icon - soon will be more!
i'm still learning English so sorry for the mistakes<3
Cw: Oblivious reader, like REALLY, oblivious. it's really REALLY implied that Clark's glasses hypnotized you in a weird way. Kinda dark!Clark, and it's a little tiny bit inspired by him stalking Lois in superman returns (my movie<3), so I wrote it with Brandon Routh!Clark in mind BUT you can imagine any Clark you prefer. Only one "miss" is mentioned but besides there's no gender specifications. Also my grammar and my English.
You never thought you would become a regular save for superman.
It was impressive at first, really! It was superman, his pretty eyes, his sweet smile, he looked almost shy everytime he had to save you (four times in a row!), it was impressive how fast he shows up when there's trouble, such a good hero. The first time he save you was because you almost got robbed, second was because you cat suddenly was on top of a tree (like on a cartoon, you didn't know you cat was able to climb that high), third and fourth were... You don't really remember needing to be saved, but he certainly made you feel saved!
But you never notice how there's always eyes In the sky looking at you, how sometimes at night someone stays right in front of your apartment, or that you never needed to be saved by superman before starting to work at the daily planet. You just notice how cute superman is when you have his face in front of yours, you're sure he looks like someone you know, maybe Jimmy Olsen, yes, him, probably him.
Oh, and speaking of Jimmy, your coworkers are the best, especially Clark Kent, so shy and so sweet, so clumsy and such a big nerd, he's so charming in his own nervous way, stumbling with words just the same way he stumbles with literally everything. He brings you coffee, he helps you with the printers and with typos, he helps you with everything you need and even more, it's like he has some weird of sixth sense just for you. And he's so helpful! You don't know what you'd do without him, he's really handsome too, but for some weird reason his glasses always make you feel a little dizzy, weird thing...
And of course you don't notice how he's always looking at you at all times, probably because he's pretending looking at the computer, your desk is right in front of his, he doesn't even have to move his head to look at you, his special vision (Wink wink) helps a lot. You're getting ready to return home at the end of the evening and Clark's still writing something, you missed how he seems to dissappear and reappear when you blink. On your way home your car stop working on the middle of the road, no one else was near...
"Need some help, miss?"
Lucky for you that superman always seems eager to help.
Part Two of this ig. The brain is not braining tho.
Cw: Same as the last one I think, Clark being absolutely obsessed with you, Clark's perspective, if he's obsessive here in the original draft was worse. Bad English and grammar.
Clark Kent was a good man.
He swears! He’s good, everyone knows that, it’s a well-known fact that Clark was someone you could trust your life. The problem, maybe, is when no one is looking at him, that’s when he looks at you, that’s when he does things for you, you didn’t have to say anything, he’d move the earth for you even if you didn’t ask him, so what do you want? Coffee? Help with the printers? A new pencil? You just need to breathe, and he’s already giving you the moon.
He can't help it, and honestly? He won't stop, he can't, maybe he's losing his mind, he probably is, but it doesn't matter, not when you look at him, not when you smile at him, not when you make him feel loved. You were so kind his first day on the daily planet, so nice and gentle, he now thinks it’s his duty returning all that help you give him the first week, he needs it more than anything, it’s written in his veins now, his entire body aches with the need of being near you.
So what if he broke your car? Put your cat on a tree? Saved you even when you didn’t need it? So what? He’s doing it out of love. You loved Superman, he knows, you have a few little figures in your desk, always talking about him, and Clark loved it, not because he was Superman, or well, no only because of that, but he adored to see you happy, you were all excited when you told him that Metropolis’ hero saved you the first time that he couldn’t help to indulge on giving you more superman time just to hear you all over again.
Well, maybe he did lose his mind a little, but he’s not harming anyone, he knows exactly what to do if his plans backfired (He learned a thing or two of Batman), so you’re completely safe, safe and happy and that’s how he'd love to keep you. He loves you and that’s the important thing, right? He’s not crazy if you enjoy this too.
“It’s unfair that Lois it’s the only one who gets to interview Superman, you know? I mean, she’s the best reporter, but I’d love to ask him stuff too!” You interrupted his train of thought, sighing and reading Lois last article “He saved me a lot of times, you know that, he probably doesn’t even know I work here too”
“He does” He blurts out, immediately, he hates to see you disappoint “I- I mean, I think he does, you’re an amazing reporter too! You just-uhm- You just don’t get the attention you deserved… You’re amazing.”
You remained quiet for a few seconds, and Clark wanted to throw up, that was too damn obvious, right? Oh, lord.
“You know what? You’re right. It doesn’t matter, everyone writes about superman anyway” You shrug, but he knows you, you’re not satisfied, he was so dumb, why didn’t he think about it before?
But, well, a little interview with you wouldn’t hurt anyone.
Can you write more for stalker Clark/Superman with a reader who is very touchy. Very affectionate with friends and family. Especially when Superman saves reader, hands roaming his chest and stuff. And since Clark is such a sweetie, reader has to give him the most.
Author note: it's technically not a part three of the other two parts, so it can be read as an individual piece.
Cw: Stalker!Clark jahsjdksj, also kinda delulu Clark. My bad English and the fact I'm in an author's block, so sorry if this is trash.
Also, I named it "one touch to melt steel", but I didn't know where to put it aklnsk
Clark absolutely adored being your favorite victim at the daily planet.
You’re literally all over him every time he walks out of the elevator, always with a smile ready to give him his morning hug, he loves it, being a fan of hugs and physical contact himself, being your friend, just your friend (for now), he’s always with his arms open for you, even if the environment was a little cold and competitive, he always tries to put a smile in your face.
He knows he’s not the only one, he sees how you try to do it with Lois (it doesn’t work, you only put your hand on her shoulder), you also do it with your family, like, a lot, don’t ask him how he knows it, it’s obvious because you told him and nothing to do with the fact his favorite hobby is following you to make sure you’re okay, because that’s his real job, right? Taking care of people, specially you, so if he uses his powers to see how you’re with your family it’s just because he’s making sure you’re okay, safe and sound, and he definitely doesn’t do it to see how you behave around people you feel safe with.
But he’s just delirious, maybe because you weren’t there this morning, and he feels empty. He needs you, he’s not ashamed to accept he craved you, at this point it feels like a biological need to have you at least once a day in his arms. Jimmy said Perry sent you somewhere to cover something, he was too busy being sad about you not being there to listen to what he said. The only thing to really interrupt his train of thought was when Cat said your name worriedly.
You were in danger.
He “went to the bathroom” but immediately flew to save you. Superman to save the day! Who else would? He made sure everyone was okay before focusing on you, you were frozen in your place, but when you registered he was in front of you, you hug him so hard he could’ve sworn you were about to break one of his indestructible bones, you babbled things about being scared and how you knew he would save everyone as always, almost sobbing. He felt in heaven for those two minutes, finally getting his daily dose of affection from you. Clark didn’t do drugs, he didn’t understand why people would do that to themselves, but now, having you in his arms, he understood why people can’t live without them, because even if you were made of kryptonite, he’d die happily clinging to your arms.
“Wow, you’re…” You touched his arms, almost squeezing them, “you’re really strong” You mumbled under your breath, sniffling a little. You looked at him and then immediately letting him go, “Oh- I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean! I mean, I did, but uhh-”
If he could kiss you, he would.
“I’m glad you’re okay” He says, and he means it, “Just make sure you stay out of trouble, okay?” He really wishes you don’t, he loves to save you.
Because if the trouble chases you, he’d have a reason to chase you too.
Cw: Bad English🤑, this is really short, but my brain is not braining. And I kinda lost north with what I was trying to do😭
The title is: "A failed artist in love with an art he can't have"
Bob loved when the team had to film stuff.
Because he could slip into the set and see you there. You run around making sure everything it’s perfect, as the art director he knew you were always stressing about the colors, the clothes, the set itself, you were a perfectionist. He never understood what you do though, before meeting you he always thought movies just had the directors, and they made absolutely everything. But he used to watch movies when he wasn’t particularly sober.
The thing is that he loved to see you working, see you crossing your arms and be so focus. You let him sit close to the action, he holds your notebook filled with notes, he likes it, he kinda feels like your weird sort of secretary, but it’s nice it makes him feel useful. He just admires you while you’re focus, if he could draw he would make you the most precious paint ever, but he can’t and also sucks at writing so that’s not an option neither.
He wanted to immortalize you.
But he doesn’t know how. If he were good with his hands, he’d make you some sort of sculpture, he would spend nights awake drawing you, writing poems and use words he doesn’t know the meaning of, he would shut up any insecurity you have about your body (he’s not blind, he has seen you stretch your shirt a lot of times), he would paint every detail until you’re sure you love yourself as much as he does.
He doesn’t, he can’t and he knows it. So instead of trying to be the artist he definitely wasn’t, he helps you like he can, complimenting you, helping you around the set, always giving you coffee or tea or whatever you need to feel less stressed, handing you your note and trying to make you laugh. He knows how feeling bad it feels, how insecurity affects you and stress can mess with your mind, he’s not fine most of the days, but he’s not alone anymore and helps him, he wants to make sure you’re not alone neither.
So he just watches you, his hands ache to stop you when you fix your clothes to hide your body, his lips wishes to kiss your forehead when you say you have headache, his body shake with need to hold you every time you say you’re tired. He can’t give you a painting, he can’t write you a poem, he can’t make you a sculpture, but he can give you support when you’re tired.
Because if you’re tired, he can be tired with you.
Cw: spoilers ig, deaths mentions, Really mean!reader, suicide and murder mention, basically shaming Sam for every decision he made, it's not mentioned the reader's gender, and it's also never really explicit if you're real or not. Also, the power is open to interpretation. My bad English, It's awful, but I'm still angry at Sam lol
Title :p "The past reflecting on a mirror."
Sam wasn’t having a good day.
And maybe because he’s starting to lose grip on reality again, but somehow he could still try to act normal, as normal as he can -which wasn’t much-, trying desperately to go to Cate, he’s going to beg if it’s necessary, the weight of the guilt getting too much and even there was no super strength to help him lift it.
“Alright, guys! How do you spell ‘Fucking loser’? I can’t hear you… S-A-M? That’s correct!”
It was your voice.
He knows you were on the TV, god, he hates himself so much, he can’t even look, he tries to walk faster, but your voice keeps sounding loud and clear, almost as if it was really you, but it wasn’t, he knows that, you’re still on Elmira or something, no one wants to tell him what happened to you! Emma had no regard to telling him Andre was dead, but when it came to you, everyone just shut up.
“And what about ‘disgusting traitor who doesn’t deserve anything good in life’? S… A… M…? That’s correct once again, you guys are fantastic at this."
“Now spell the name of who will never be a real hero, ‘Sam’? That’s right!.”
“And never forget how you spell ‘Pathetic attempt of supe’, it’s very important you know that after spelling ‘Sam’ you have to spell ‘Riordan’.”
“Funny how all the answers are the same, don’t you think so, Sammy?”
“Shut up!” He practically snaps, not caring about how the people around him looked so confused.
“What? You don’t like the truth now? Poor boy, go and cry with mommy Cate, isn’t she so damn nice to you? Your fucking drug, look at you, two minutes without her, and you look like you would jump over the first psychic you catch to help you forget”
“You’re not even real!”
“Oh, I’m not? Don’t you wonder why that is? Don’t you wonder if I’m actually not real? Why am I still at Elvira? Maybe I’m six feet under it, maybe I’m real, and I’m using my powers just to torture you, or maybe I’m still being tortured and Cate didn’t suck enough dicks to let me out” You sounded so damn sure of yourself that it made him sick.
“Shut up Shut up Shut up Shut up” He repeats over and over again.
“She would never-”
“Not because she doesn’t suck yours means she doesn’t do it at all, I bet Homelander's taste patriotic, maybe she’s disgusted with you too, can’t blame the poor girl, Emma was the only one to want you after me and I don’t think she still does after how you treated her” You almost purred “Oh, and she’s perfect, right? I know that for a fact”
“Hey, don’t be like that, you’re the one who left me twice, remember? First in the woods where I had to escape alone, and then I sided with who I thought were your friends, and I was wrong, just that day you decided they weren't anymore. You let me alone, again, being locked up twice is not really nice, you know?”
“You shouldn’t have-” Why is he even responding? “You’re not real”
“Why? Because I’m supposedly dead?” You hiss back, “What’s your favorite theory? They killed me in a horrific way for trying to escape? Maybe I just killed myself, have you thought about that? Or maybe I’m still there, alive, and I simply didn’t want to get out, because I’m fucking used to the chains by now”
He punches the window where you were reflecting, that one and every one around, not even thinking how you didn’t match the aesthetic of his hallucinations. He was desperate, every word you say it feels like venom against his skin, acid burning him deep down, leaving nothing but bones in their place.
“Glad you didn’t overreact” You sighed, How the hell you were still talking? “Nice chat, we have to repeated someday, what about at my funeral? I’ll be very happy if you don’t wear black, you look horrible trying to pretend you’re a bad boy or something, you look like a cheap Danny Zuko.”
And with that you shut up, he’s in front of Cate’s door. He didn’t even notice he kept walking, his head hurts, and he’s so damn angry, where the hell are you? What happened? He feels sick thinking you’re actually dead, and he didn’t do anything to save, he always used to tell you he would get you out of the woods, that you two would live a semi normal life.
He didn't keep his word, just like you didn't keep your freedom.
Cw: spoilers ig, deaths mentions, Really mean!reader, suicide and murder mention, basically shaming Sam for every decision he made, it's not mentioned the reader's gender, and it's also never really explicit if you're real or not. Also, the power is open to interpretation. My bad English, It's awful, but I'm still angry at Sam lol
Title :p "The past reflecting on a mirror."
Sam wasn’t having a good day.
And maybe because he’s starting to lose grip on reality again, but somehow he could still try to act normal, as normal as he can -which wasn’t much-, trying desperately to go to Cate, he’s going to beg if it’s necessary, the weight of the guilt getting too much and even there was no super strength to help him lift it.
“Alright, guys! How do you spell ‘Fucking loser’? I can’t hear you… S-A-M? That’s correct!”
It was your voice.
He knows you were on the TV, god, he hates himself so much, he can’t even look, he tries to walk faster, but your voice keeps sounding loud and clear, almost as if it was really you, but it wasn’t, he knows that, you’re still on Elmira or something, no one wants to tell him what happened to you! Emma had no regard to telling him Andre was dead, but when it came to you, everyone just shut up.
“And what about ‘disgusting traitor who doesn’t deserve anything good in life’? S… A… M…? That’s correct once again, you guys are fantastic at this."
“Now spell the name of who will never be a real hero, ‘Sam’? That’s right!.”
“And never forget how you spell ‘Pathetic attempt of supe’, it’s very important you know that after spelling ‘Sam’ you have to spell ‘Riordan’.”
“Funny how all the answers are the same, don’t you think so, Sammy?”
“Shut up!” He practically snaps, not caring about how the people around him looked so confused.
“What? You don’t like the truth now? Poor boy, go and cry with mommy Cate, isn’t she so damn nice to you? Your fucking drug, look at you, two minutes without her, and you look like you would jump over the first psychic you catch to help you forget”
“You’re not even real!”
“Oh, I’m not? Don’t you wonder why that is? Don’t you wonder if I’m actually not real? Why am I still at Elvira? Maybe I’m six feet under it, maybe I’m real, and I’m using my powers just to torture you, or maybe I’m still being tortured and Cate didn’t suck enough dicks to let me out” You sounded so damn sure of yourself that it made him sick.
“Shut up Shut up Shut up Shut up” He repeats over and over again.
“She would never-”
“Not because she doesn’t suck yours means she doesn’t do it at all, I bet Homelander's taste patriotic, maybe she’s disgusted with you too, can’t blame the poor girl, Emma was the only one to want you after me and I don’t think she still does after how you treated her” You almost purred “Oh, and she’s perfect, right? I know that for a fact”
“Hey, don’t be like that, you’re the one who left me twice, remember? First in the woods where I had to escape alone, and then I sided with who I thought were your friends, and I was wrong, just that day you decided they weren't anymore. You let me alone, again, being locked up twice is not really nice, you know?”
“You shouldn’t have-” Why is he even responding? “You’re not real”
“Why? Because I’m supposedly dead?” You hiss back, “What’s your favorite theory? They killed me in a horrific way for trying to escape? Maybe I just killed myself, have you thought about that? Or maybe I’m still there, alive, and I simply didn’t want to get out, because I’m fucking used to the chains by now”
He punches the window where you were reflecting, that one and every one around, not even thinking how you didn’t match the aesthetic of his hallucinations. He was desperate, every word you say it feels like venom against his skin, acid burning him deep down, leaving nothing but bones in their place.
“Glad you didn’t overreact” You sighed, How the hell you were still talking? “Nice chat, we have to repeated someday, what about at my funeral? I’ll be very happy if you don’t wear black, you look horrible trying to pretend you’re a bad boy or something, you look like a cheap Danny Zuko.”
And with that you shut up, he’s in front of Cate’s door. He didn’t even notice he kept walking, his head hurts, and he’s so damn angry, where the hell are you? What happened? He feels sick thinking you’re actually dead, and he didn’t do anything to save, he always used to tell you he would get you out of the woods, that you two would live a semi normal life.
He didn't keep his word, just like you didn't keep your freedom.
Can I please request Smallville!Lex who falls in love with Clark’s innocent/naive/optimistic older sister? Maybe she’s a freshman at metropolis u and comes home on the weekend and Lex can’t get enough of her? Thank you!
Author note: I think it's a little messy because I started with something, then I went to a different direction, then I took other direction again and I didn't know how to end it.
CW: Fem!Reader. Kinda a little obsessed Lex¿, watch me steal Anthony Bridgerton's Leitmotiv /j. I didn't add it, but in my mind reader is adopted by the Kent too :p. My bad english and plus free Lionel hate
Title ig: "The best a good man can do."
Lex is a good man.
He’d put his hand on the bible and swear it in front of the court. He is a good man, he’s better than his father ever was, and he’s going to show it, he’s desperate to show it. So the first time you said he was a gentleman, his little obsession to be a good man grew significantly, it got worse, but if you try hard to be a good man that makes a good man, right?
As Clark older sister, you were overprotective to say at least, even with your bubbly personality you absolutely despised him the first two weeks he and Clark started their friendship, and he didn’t blame you, your father hated his father, and you also did (Lionel always ruining everything as always), not to mention the accident that made him meet Clark.
But now everything is fine between you, he adored you, and you were… you. He wanted to feel special every time you said something nice, but well, you say nice things to everyone, it's like your second nature, everyone but Lionel Luthor, Lex never heard you hate someone as much as you hate his father, and can he blame you? No, he actually understands every point you do.
“You're different though” you say, smiling at him, “Well, I hope so.”
He's going to prove it to you.
You're always home on weekends, you study hard, astronomy was your passion for reasons you don't tell, it's a secret he dies to discover, but he's a patient man, you'll tell him when you're ready, he's sure of that. You take the bus or sometimes your dad goes for you, Lex knows how to help, the problem is that you probably wouldn't accept it, Jonathan probably would make you not accept it.
He bought you a car, yay, your favorite color, a good brand, it's still hidden, he doesn't know how to give it to you, you have your license, you drive your parents old pickup truck sometimes, it'd be so much better for you to have your own car and maybe drive to his place instead of just walk to it. Lex was a kind man too, isn't gifting you a car an act of pure kindness?
You're surprised when he finally gave it to you.
“I can't accept it, Lex, this- this is too much” You frown, looking at it as if you never saw a car before “It's really nice, and thank you very much, but dad-”
“Don't worry about it, I thought about everything, you can hide it here and if someone asks I just say it's mine” He shrugs, resting on it “And plus, you can save the money from the bus tickets.”
“Lex-”
“No, don't worry, it's yours, really, if your parents don't like it just come here and hide it”
You hesitate at first, but it's a pretty car, and he's right, you can save money and maybe help your parents even more with the farm. You take the keys, he smiles, so full of himself that he doesn't fit in his own body.
“Don't you think this is a little too much? It's a whole car, and- and I don't think I deserve it-”
“Nonsense, you deserve the best” He frowns “This is just a little gift for being a good friend, that's all.”
“Thank you, really, you're really nice.” That little praise was all the payment he wanted.
can you to more stalker Clark with a southern obsession. They grew up like he did. Lived on a farm in a small town. similar morals and values
Author's note: This definitely took me enough, I made like 10 drafts lol, I didn't know how to do it, because I'm not familiarized with american southern culture, so that part it's kinda lost, but I mention a lot and farm. I'm also using Granville, because in my mind I remember it was near Smallville if it's not next to it.
CW: ya se la saben, Stalker!Clark as usual, Delulu!Clark, he's just a girl, GN!reader, bad southern representation, so I'm sorry if it's stereotyped, my bad english and Grammar!
I didn't name it :(
Your parents own a farm.
When he hears you mentioning it in a conversation he was surprised, you grew up in Granville, just next to Smallville, so he when he went to see your childhood residency you can’t actually blame him, he’s just curious! He wanted to see how it looks. He never thought a coworker would be basically his neighbor! It was exciting to say at least, it’s totally normal he wants to know absolutely everything about you now, right?
So he did a few visits, especially when you’re with your family, watching you working around the farm in the weekends, the way you do it, it feels so gracious, it seems so perfect, watching you work under the light of the sun, he could've sworn you look the closest he ever met to a deity. He’s totally mesmerized, he daydreams of helping you, show off his powers even, laugh charmingly at your surprised face.
“What?” He would say “I just thought you needed a little extra help” And you would smile at him and run to his arms and made him lemonade or something, not in that order, however you want! He doesn’t need lemonade, it can be whatever you want to make!
He’s sure he loves you, he can already picture you two married and living in a farm and being happy with that, unless you like Metropolis and want to stay there, he totally understands you, keep the farm to the weekends? Maybe? He just wants to be with you; Granville, Metropolis or Smallville as long as it’s with you, he’s more than happy.
You love your job and he knows it! He can be your house husband if you need, he’s not against it, maybe take care of your home, and do house husbands chores, wait for you with dinner and a massage and kiss you and love you and do whatever you ask for him to do. He would do it, anything, he means it, he loves you.
So in the weekends he watches you work in your parent’s farm, helping around with some of the farming or, instead, helping them with technology, you’re perfect at everything, or maybe he's just saying all this because he’s in love, he knows it’s probably the second option, but that’s not important, you can’t blame a man for being in love, right? You two would be the perfect couple. From Monday to Friday he watches you work too, at the daily planet, he’s not sure what you do, but you’re really good! He’s sure you do it amazing, and you definitely deserve him helping you relax-
“Are you Clark Kent?” You ask “Olsen told me you needed help with the printer” You tilt your head, and Clark looks at Jimmy who’s looking at him, thumbs up.
“Uhh- Y-Yeah” He nods “I- uhm- I’m not sure how you- how you uhm-” He trails off, he doesn’t know want to say! This isn’t fair!
“Don’t worry” You shrug, trying to pretend you understood him, “It happens to the best of us”
He's sure he’s definitely staying as a house husband.
Blah blah blah something about Langdon being dog coded, "I'm your man" reference, they're ruining my life blah blah blah
English is not my first language and it's literally almost 5 am in my country, no proofread we die like Robby's love for Langdon. This is me after writing about Mitski songs fitting these two after I read a post about it. I'm losing my mind.
Cw: idk, Langdon is quite pathetic, and I'm ignoring he's a married man, to me he's a teenage girl needing her favorite professor to like her again (me), religious symbolism Ig, toxic behavior, excusing toxic behavior AND wanting it. It's like three words long lol and I write it two seconds ago. Prequel wannabe
"Like a stray without it's home"
He felt pathetic.
Like a stray waiting for his owner, and maybe that was the truth, he feels helpless, hopeless without Robby’s approval, like a dog craving the leash, like a dog needing the restraint, he needed the praise, the validation, the whatever he could take, whatever Robby wants to give him now, what he deserves; poison, hate, and disdain, he would take it, he can take it, he’s good at lying to himself, he can convince himself that the anger was the most important part of love.
He would crawl back to him if necessary; he could swallow his tears and repeat every hurtful phrase in his own face to remind himself what he did wrong, and he could drown in the pain and die from it if that would give him another chance. He knows he won't get it; he knows it's too late; there's another man in his place, and even though no one believes him, he accepted it; he needed to be punished. There is no forgiveness in a painless apology, there is a special love in agony, and there is no martyr who does not die a sacrifice.
So let life be cruel; let Robby be mean to him; he’d still kneel at his feet and pray to him for forgiveness, because he was mean once too, because he didn’t ask for help, because he deserves punishment. There is no deity who forgives without prior torture, because he needs to be clean before ask for mercy, he needs to bleed before begging for pity and he will, because he's good at destroying himself, because he's good at dying for someone else, in silence, in secret, hiding even.
Everyone loves stray dogs after they are cleansed, once they are free from their filth, free from their sins.
Author's note: It was hard and this is bad, I didn't know what or how to do it, but I hope the other three Smallville!Zod fans out there like this even if it sucks, this is for @monochromefruitloop who requested it<3
CW: Spreading my Jor-El/Zod propaganda in one line, mention of Krypton being destroyed. GN!reader, my terrible english and this sucks.
"The mandatory visit for a veteran who never retired"
You met Zod in Krypton.
A long time ago, before he was sentenced, before Krypton was destroyed. You fought at his side, because he was a good general and you were a good fighter. You never made it to his army, you never wanted to, you were more like the secret weapon he sometimes could use.
Then you left Krypton. You had no regrets, you were looking for new adventures, new planets to help, you took your sweet time before landing on earth, between the grief of losing your planet and the loneliness that caught your entire being, you stopped your mission for a long time, before finally going to earth.
It wasn't exciting, especially with the lack of everything comparing it to every other planet you visit, the surprise was to eventually know there was a Kryptonian there too, the shock was when you found out it was Jor-el’s son, he survived, of course he did, Jor-el would've done everything to save his legacy.
So you spend your time watching over him, you never revealed yourself, you didn't want to, visiting him every now and then while you try to make a life on earth, then you saw him, again, hovering over the farm, you saw Zod, and it can't be, you know it can't be, not when he was supposed to be in the phantom zone.
You found out it was a long story, something about a woman waking them up from a rock Jor-El created, something about what you never really understood, but he's there, not evil yet or at least not completely evil, and that was enough for you.
“Dru-Zod in the flesh” You finally said when he was on top of a building. Powerless, wasn't that ironic? “Long time no see you.”
He said your name, a mix of surprise and confusion that was quickly erased, you knew him, he doesn't show weakness, not in front of you, not in front of anyone, he looked younger than you remembered him, still soft around the edges, he was skinnier too.
“You came with us?” He asked, frowning “I would’ve noticed you.”
“You always used to do that, huh?” You answered, you can’t help but to feel nostalgic “But I didn’t, this is more like.. A visit.”
“Mhm, you always loved to be around inferior specimens, made you feel helpful, I’m not surprised if you actually liked this planet” He says calmly, with that kind of poison that curl into your vains in the best way posible.
“And you always loved to feel superior, so I guess we’re both staying” You smiled and he squint his eyes.
“They’re dumber, but they do have good literature, not completely uncultured, that’s a point on them” He meddles, looking at you “You look older.”
“You look younger”
“Ah, we both remember different version then” He smiles, measured, like everything he does.
There’s a pause.
“Have you met Kal-El?” He finally asked, there is it.
“Who?”
“Don’t play dumb, doesn’t suit you” He frowns again.
“I saw him a few times, he looks nothing like his father” You shrugs “You think Lara finally let Zor-El touch her?”
“Wouldn’t be surprised, Jor-El is not a good lover.”
“Speaking from experience?” You tilted her head and instead of reproach you, he smiled.
“Don’t be disrespectful” He shakes her head “Though I must admit I missed your annoying presenc.”
“Yeah? Even with Faora in your army?”
“Don’t be jealous, my dear, you should know better.”
And you do, you actually know better than be talking to him, because it’s wrong, but it’s not like you care about morality, not when technically he’s the only thing that remains of your planet, you needed someone to talk about it, even if this version of him was frozen in time, when he’s still so angry about Kandor, he wasn’t always evil, but rage change people, and grief does it too. You know what he did, but right now, having him in front of you, you couldn’t care less.
And the people that could judge you died with his story, with your home.
Author's note: I'm so obsessed, I'm sorry, may I present you my "Langdon is a toy discarded" kind of symbolism? This was supposed to finish on a happier note with Baran picking him up (like a toy, you get it?) but I didn't know how to do iiit, so that ending is only in my head😔 AND more than a continuation of this one is, like, an addition? If something this would come first and then the other one because in the other one Frank is more pathetic.
Cw: idk, my terrible English (I wrote it in Spanish then translated), Langdon is being a lost puppy as he always is in my fics (I've write two lol), TECHNICALLY emotional cheating kinda? Idk, not explicit, not implicit neither, BUT this is about Robbydon btw.
"On the shelf"
There's something very special about discarded toys.
It's mainly that they were once special, that some child once played with them and loved them, that they once shone, perhaps they were dirty, maybe even broken, but cherished, loved, fulfilling the purpose for which they were created, carrying out their function with pride, because there wasn't a toy that didn't want to be used by their child.
Then the children grow up, then the children discard them, forget them, throw them away. What does a stored toy do? Besides mourning past times, besides accepting that the cruel fate of every object is to be discarded, besides seeing the child who loved them so much place their love in another.
Frank had seen it happen. Tanner's tastes were beginning to change, and Penny was starting to form hers. He kept many toys, he didn't know why, especially when Abby told him to donate them or throw them away, but he never had the heart to do it. Maybe Penny will like some of them, maybe he simply liked the memories, or maybe he thought no one else would want them again.
He liked to think, though, that toys were happy to have served their purpose, happy to know they had helped someone grow, happy to have been chosen, that sadness didn't consume them, that they were more optimistic, that their grief was only at the beginning and now they liked seeing how that child they loved so much, how that child who loved them in return, was now happy with other things, that they weren't jealous.
That they learned to let go.
"You have a minute? I-" He tried again.
"Not for you." Robby muttered, walking straight to Whitaker and Santos. Not even a second glance.
But that was the special thing about discarded toys, wasn't it? They learned to accept that their place had been taken away from them.
Author note: Yes, another one, I'm too Robbylnagdon pilled to work properly, I love my man and I hate to see him unhappy, and this has NOTHING to do with my other two robdon pieces. This was also heavily inspired on "if I leave" by Mitski, like REALLY, there's lines to resemble it, and I wrote it in spanish first so :p.
CW: Thoughts about dying, mentions of a reality check after idealize someone ig, idk how hospitals work, and even less how they work in united states so maybe it's not really accurate the shift change, mentions of therapy, both Robby and Frank spiral. My bad english.
Title or something: "How replaceable do you think you are?"
Frank always knew how replaceable he was.
Because he knows Robby well, and even through the fog of the idyllic fantasy his mind had conjured up, he could see his flaws, because he wasn't a perfect man, and even though that was the closest thing to blasphemy he could think of, there was a special place in his mind that reminded him that Robby was full of mistakes, because he was mortal, because it was his mind that gave him divinity, because it was his mind that decided to create a perfect fantasy using a man full of faults as his canvas.
When he was forced to leave, there was a thorn that stuck so deep that he thought he would die just from having it, a dagger that was embedded in his chest and he didn't know how to pull out, a knife that made his heart bleed so much insecurity that his blood was drained and doubts filled the empty channels; the pain of reality made him dizzy, because he knew he was replaceable, because if he disappeared forever, he would fill that void, if there was one, it would be easy to find someone to play the role, someone new would come along to adore the man, Robby could find another Frank, but Frank could not find another Robby.
There were ten months when he didn't hear from anyone, when his body detoxified, when he learned to live in his own skin again. It felt strange to return, especially with that look Robby had when he was around him. He didn't blame him, even if he wanted to, it was too late for him now. The first few months away, he wondered what would have happened if he had died of an overdose. Would Robby have wanted that? Maybe that way he could tell the version of events that made him feel more comfortable. It would have been easier to fill in the gaps he didn't know about. Maybe he would have hated him even more, but at least he wouldn't be conscious to receive the scolding. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered, and he was being dramatic for thinking about it.
He didn't want to leave because he knew what was happening would happen, because Robby seemed too comfortable with Santos and Whitaker, and he knew it was toxic. Therapy had helped, but there were wounds that hadn't healed and he didn't know how long they would take to do so, because he knew that Robby would find someone or someone would find him, but Frank also knew that he wouldn't be so lucky. Who would see him with the clarity that Robby once did? How long had it been since Robby really saw him? Before the pills? Did he ever really see him? He wasn't sure and maybe he never would be. After the comment that he didn't want him working there, he understood, with sorrow, that it was better to understand than to question. He deserved it, he knows he did. That didn't take away the fact that when it came to him, Robby no longer knew how to be a doctor. He became a butcher who enjoyed his profession, who didn't even ignore the wounds but opened them up more, seeming to feed off the pain.
So when Robby left, he changed shifts, even after his psychologist recommended that it wasn't good to make an abrupt change. He didn't care because he didn't want to cause trouble, because Dr. Abbot didn't seem uncomfortable with the idea, and he knows that Robby told him everything because it was the first thing Abbot said when he asked for the change. So three months flew by, he had already gotten used to it, he maneuvered routines so he could see his children, because he didn't have custody, but Abby wasn't resentful, so he kept seeing them when he could, he tried to be as present as possible, the days became a series of quite comfortable habits, and he could safely say that he felt better.
So he no longer sought Robby's gaze.
Isn't that ironic? Because now that Robby was back and saw that Langdon was better, he felt something he didn't want to acknowledge, a little twinge that his mind refused to name. He was a man full of envy, and that was the truth, because Frank had hit rock bottom and managed to swim back to the surface, while the boat Robby was on remained in the middle of the sea with no shore in sight and no wind to help him navigate. He never thought Frank could replace him, but now it was Jack he was looking for, the one he was asking.
Wasn't it curious? Just when Frank seemed to have gotten over it, Robby realized that he too had lost something when he pushed him away, when he closed himself off and denied the possibility of wanting him around. When he came back, he realized something very important: he was gone, and Frank had found someone else to cheer him up, to guide him, but where would he find another Frank Langdon? No one would love him as much, no one would want him as much, because he knows that the new residents know how to set limits, because he knows that they would question his word, there is no longer blind faith, there is no longer adoration.
Robby always knew he was replaceable.
He just didn't think he was replaceable for Frank.
Author note: It take me long enough, didn't know how to continue the stuff, but I did my best. Part one is here.
CW: Fem!Reader. Kinda a little obsessed Lex AGAIN and he's jealous for two seconds. Reader likes silver. He's really trying to gaslight himself into thinking he's a good man. My bad english. Too repetitive ig.
Title ig: "The least a good man can gift"
Lex is a good man.
But good men can be selfish sometimes, because good men know what's best for their favorite girls. Good men can be possessive sometimes, because they're just a little too protective. Good men can spiral sometimes, because they don't want to be like their fathers.
And since Lex was such a good man it's only natural how much he loves you. You're his star, his angel, he loves you very much so when you're sad, this sad, over some boy from Metropolis he just needed to make you smile, to give you back that beautiful laugh that made his head spin like the most exquisite liquor he ever tasted.
It was a primal need, he considered himself a very nice gentleman, but his mind went absolutely barbaric with jealousy and now with anger, you're sad, your beautiful eyes were off, you feel not worthy of love and that was enough to make Lex start seeing red. He loved you, he loved you and he needed to see you happy, because if he doesn't make you happy how can he show you he was a good man?
So he showered with secret gifts, because Jonathan still gets uncomfortable when he gifts things to you or to Clark, so he hid them, anything you wanted was yours and soon enough that sweet smile was on full display and he was so satisfied, felt so good, because he was a gentleman and you know it now.
“This is too much” You mumbled looking at the bracelet he bought you.
“Again with that nonsense? I bought you a car, a piece of silver is nothing” He smiles, because he knew you needed some kind of affirmation “nothing is too much when it means you’re happy”
You looked away, awkwardly letting him secure the bracelet, it was pretty, way too pretty and shiny to not be questioned by your family, another lie you’d have to say, you weren’t a liar, but you also didn’t want your parents feel bad because they can’t buy you shiny things, you were happy with what you have, but hell, you’re starting to get really used to Lex spoiling you.
And he could read you as an open book.
“And I have two tickets to that new movie you wanted to watch” He adds, you looked up at him and sigh, defeated.
“Sounds like a date” You nod, mumbling almost shyly.
“It is one if you want to name it” He shrugs.
You didn’t say anything, but he knew, by that little smile you made that the idea didn’t bother you at all. He smiled again, looking at the bracelet, maybe one day he’ll put a ring on your finger, sounds nice, you wouldn’t mind, would you? You two were the best match after all.
I—er uhhhh— this is my oc Galina, and uh— Miles Upshur
Details n stuff:
Ok, so, Gal is my rtc OC, where she’s a nurse in St. Cassian, a Catholic school, who also kind of adopts Misha Bachynskyi before he tragically dies in a roller coaster disaster.
I thought they’d be besties cuz they kinda have the same vibe, both sarcastic snarky assholes who happen to care too much about stuff, but are too cool to accept it Yk— at least, initially I made their dynamic as friends who occasionally hang out —mostly because Miles lives in Washington DC and Galina lives in Uranium City in Canada—, and share some trauma and missing fingers, but then I thought they’d vibe as a — kinda couple(? Too.
in my head Miles is like 36 by the time the game happens, but he and Galina Dated when he was 32 and she was 34, and they “broke up” two years later.
And cuz I’m a comedy genius, the ship is called 8 fingers— cuz they both have 8 fingers lmao—
Well, basically that, Galina is actually a doctor, with two specialities, nephrology and hematology, but she worked for a certain health services provider who worked alongside Murkoff, she ends up running away, —she’s originally from Poland— to Canada, this ghost city.
Then, a year after the roller coaster disaster happens, Miles goes to Uranium to investigate some case he was working on(about the mines in Uranium, that are suspiciously not closed even tho there’s no more uranium to extract). Miles follows a lead cause he heard about the roller coaster disaster and thinks “maybe it’s related to Murkoff” or smt, and meets Gal, the rest is history—
I think after the asylum —ik, ik, it’s most likely miles is not alive, but I like to think he goes to Gal like, “I was shot, you’re a doctor, help”(the walrider pretty much “healed” him, but yk—)— and she’d be like— “yeah, dude, I think I’ve got some bandaids somewhere lol— “.
Basically, I imagine them as a goofy, easygoing and chaotic duo, none of them attached to something(or so they tell to themselves), way too focused in their job, and nerd cynical assholes who think they’re cool—
Btw, in the first pic, it says “Here with my bestie @/miles.upshur “, cuz I can’t be bothered on translating that, and “panita” is such a funny word.
And in the last one Miles is talking to Gal about some case he worked on and Gal can’t be bothered on paying attention so she thinks he’s talking to her about the movie Casablanca and stuff—
