I have a request! Since im a sucker for Sinister, could i request as oneshot where we see how a "usual" fight/interaction between him and Absolute Superwoman is like?
Another Day
Sinister Mark X Kryptonian/Absolute Superwoman Reader
Context: Takes place within/is canon to my series Softer Than Steel. However, it is not necessary to understand and you can simply read it as a powered!reader.
w/c: 1.1k
a/n: So. I know I said I’d release requests in batches with the release of each new episode of S4. However. This one possessed me and I woke up with this written—
The fire had already spread too far by the time you arrived.
Flames clawed up the sides of three apartment buildings, orange and violent against the night sky. Smoke billowed thick and black, choking the air, and blotting out stars.
You didn’t hesitate as you threw yourself into the center of it.
Heat curled around your skin, harmless but suffocating in its intensity.
Around you people screamed. Some trapped in rooms, others trying to flee down stairwells already full of smoke.
You took a slow breath and exhaled.
A controlled, focused blast of freezing breath tore from your lungs, sweeping across the floors.
The blaze flickered as it was smothered, ice creeping along the edges of charred beams and shattered glass. Steam exploded outward where heat met cold, hissing like something alive.
A woman stumbled out of a doorway, clutching a child. You were there before she could fall, steadying her with your arms.
“It’s okay,” you said, softer now. “You’re safe.”
She nodded, dazed, and you guided her toward the waiting first responders.
Then you were gone again.
Up. Through collapsed floorboards. Into smoke so thick even you had trouble seeing through. So you listened instead, listening for heartbeats, breathing, the faint whimper of someone trying not to panic.
There.
A man pinned beneath a fallen beam.
You lifted it like it weighed nothing, as careful as you could make it. Trying to ignore the sound and smell of melting flesh as you picked him up.
Over and over. Room to room. Floor to floor.
By the time the last flame died under your breath, your chest felt tight.
You hovered above the street for a moment, watching as paramedics took over. As people cried and clung to each other and tried to piece themselves back together.
You turned to leave.
Back to the only place you could call a home. But you barely made it a block before you noticed it. A presence, the feeling of being watched.
You froze midair.
Slowly, you turned your head. And there he was.
Floating in the distance like he had all the time in the world.
Watching you.
Your stomach dropped.
Without thinking, you shot off in the opposite direction, faster than sound, faster than thought. The city blurred beneath you, lights streaking into meaningless lines as you tried to put distance, any distance, between you and him.
For a moment, you thought—
“You always run.”
His voice was right behind you. He matched your pace effortlessly, drifting alongside you like this was a casual stroll instead of a chase.
Invincible tilted his head, studying you with open fascination.
“It’s interesting,” he continued lightly, as if you were in the middle of a conversation. “You hear it all, don’t you?”
You didn’t respond. You just pushed faster.
He kept up.
“The screaming. The breaking. The way their bodies fail them so easily.” His eyes flicked downward toward the city. “All that noise.”
“Stop talking,” you snapped.
He smiled.
It wasn’t kind. It was anything but.
“I can’t hear it like you do,” he said, almost thoughtfully. “But I can imagine.” His gaze slid back to you. “It must be overwhelming.”
Your hands clenched into fists.
“Why are you here?” you demanded.
A soft hum of amusement left him. “You know why.”
“No,” you said sharply. “I don’t. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to hurt people just to—”
“To get your attention?” he finished for you.
He grinned. “Worked, didn’t it?”
Rage flared hot in your chest.
“You—” Your voice shook. “You caused that fire.”
“Of course I did.”
So simple. So casual. Like he was talking about a simple mistake.
Your vision burned.
“They were innocent—”
“They were tools,” he corrected, almost gently. “Fragile, breakable, but very, very useful.”
You stared at him. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t.
“How can you say that?” you whispered. “How can you—”
His expression shifted, something darker slipping through.
“Because they’re easy,” he said. “Insignificant.”
He drifted closer.
“And you,” he continued, voice lowering, “are not.”
Your breath hitched.
His eyes dragged over you. Admiring. Assessing.
“You feel it all,” he murmured. “Their pain. Their fear.”
A pause as he hummed. “I wonder…”
Your stomach twisted.
“What yours would look like.”
Something in you snapped and the impact cracked the air.
Your fist connected with his jaw, sending him hurtling backward through the sky.
He barely had time to react before you were on him again, striking again, faster, harder, each hit fueled by something raw and shaking in your chest.
“What is. Wrong. With you!?”you shouted, each word punctuated by another blow.
He caught your wrist mid-swing.
Effortless. Just like that.
“There you are,” he said softly. A smile on his face, but not the usual condescending one, it’s sharper.
He twisted, slamming you downward. The ground rushed up to meet you in a blur of asphalt and debris, the impact sending cracks spiderwebbing through the street.
Pain flared, but brief, manageable.
You shoved him off, scrambling to your feet.
He followed, slower, almost lazy.
“You fight so hard for them,” he mused. “For something so… insignificant.”
“They matter,” you shot back. “All of them
“They matter to you,” he corrected.
You lunged again.
He met you this time. But he wasn’t fighting to win.
He was playing.
You could feel it.
And It made your skin crawl.
“You’re exhausting yourself,” he noted, catching your arm again, leaning in just enough that you could feel his breath. “All this effort. All this pain you carry for them—”
“Stop it.”
“—and they’ll never understand it.”
“Let. Go.”
“Not like I do.”
Your vision flared red.
Heat built behind your eyes—
And you let go.
The blast of heat vision struck him point-blank, bright and blinding and angry. It sent him flying back, tearing through the air and slamming into the side of a distant building hard enough to crater it.
You didn’t wait.
You turned and ran.
You didn’t stop until you were home.
Until the door slammed shut behind you.
Your hands were shaking.
You stared at them.
Then at your arms.
Your skin.
You could still feel him.
You always could.
It felt like he stained your skin with ink. A stain that spreads and taints and corrupts.
You moved without thinking, stumbling into the bathroom. The faucet twisted on too hard, water rushing out in a steady stream as you braced your hands against the sink.
You scrubbed.
Your nails dragged across your skin, over and over, like you could erase the feeling, like you could tear away whatever disgusting feeling he’d left behind just by trying hard enough.
You continued to scrub until your skin burned.
Until your breath came in sharp, uneven pulls.
Until—
You stopped and turned the water off.
Sighing, you pushed off the sink basin. And it wasn’t long until you’d dressed yourself in overalls and headed outside.
Heading to the one person that you knew would make you feel as normal as possible.
I wanna know why would Mohawk and Sinister go immediately after Kent while She arrives with Mark in the wasteland dimension and not Mark
It’s different for each variant.
Sinister has always had a very odd fixation on Superwoman. For his, he wouldn’t go too far, as he likes the ‘game’ they always play. But that isn’t the case for Main Kent. So if they interact during the war, it’s just him honing in on her to kill her. Just wants to see what it looks/feels like.
In the wasteland he’s gluttonous, and his first reaction in canon was to try to eat Mark cause he’s ‘fresher’. That new gluttonous part, mixes with his sadistic fixation on Superwoman (he already knows what Mark tastes like, and now he has a new meal in front of him) and becomes something like we’ll see then.
For Mohawk? It’s just the way I’m going to choose to characterize him. He didn’t want to eat his variants. And he didn’t enjoy it. So attacking Mark kind of connects in his mind to fighting other variants to kill and eat.
So the decision is: A Kent, who he still has underlying hostility toward. A Mark, who he still wants to beat the shit out of, but also brings back unpleasant thoughts.
It’s just the ‘easier’ choice. Besides! Killing her in front of Main Mark is good punishment for getting them all stuck there.
which mark is the creepiest when dealing with their Kent?
There’s really two that are fighting for first.
Sinister, cause. of course.
And then Retro. I haven’t talked much about him, other than the occasional question about Rex’s fate, but he’s quite the stalker. He started with watching Superwoman, and when he found out her identity, he would watch Kent too. If he doesn’t see her for a while, he causes problems for Superwoman to come and save the day so he can watch.
Akin to Sinister starting disasters so he can chase/fight his Superwoman.
I might have to personally say I find Retro creepier. You aren’t aware of stalkers, at least Absolute Kent is aware of Sinister—
