ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤALIEN GIRLㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱
☆ PAIRING : Yandere Mark Grayson x Fem Qu Reader Part 4
☆ HEADCANON : It's been two years since you told him you're pregnant. And when he start to believe that maybe you were wrong, he become a father...
☆ NOTES : Qu is an alien species from the book All Tomorrows. You can learn more about her here. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
Mark had been convinced you weren’t actually pregnant.
Two years had passed. Two whole years.
Two long years of your strange habits, cravings, and obsessive nesting.
At first, Mark had panicked. Then, after months of nothing changing, he thought, Maybe she was wrong? Maybe whatever weird biology she had messed up and she wasn’t actually pregnant.
He even asked his mom about it.
Debbie had given him a deadpan look. "You’re hoping it’s a mistake?"
Mark sighed. "I mean, yeah. It’s been two years. Nothing happened."
Debbie just shook her head. "Mark, honey. She’s an alien. You don’t know what’s normal for her."
Mark groaned. "I just—I don’t know if I’m ready for—"
But then, one morning, he woke up to—
Something he never expected.
Mark walked into the bedroom that morning, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—
Tiny babies. A lot of tiny babies.
You were curled up in your nest, naked, looking like a goddamn angel, surrounded by—
He blinked.
What… the hell?
There were tiny creatures all around you.
At first, he thought they were insects or some weird alien parasite.
But then one of them turned its tiny, shimmering face towards him—
And Mark swore his heart stopped.
They were—
Glowing, beautiful creatures.
Some were spinning in circles, some were chewing on your hair, and others were just clinging to your fingers like tiny, precious fairies.
Mark’s mouth opened. No sound came out.
You were smiling softly, cradling one of them in your hand. The little thing let out a soft, bubbling sound and nuzzled against your nose.
A sweet, soft sound—like bells ringing in the wind.
He woke up to tiny hands patting his face.
He blinked blearily, vision blurry.
A tiny, palm-sized creature was sitting on his chest.
It had soft silky hair, jewel-like eyes, and a face that looked eerily like yours.
It stared at him, then made a tiny, frog-like croak.
The baby screamed back, jumped in surprise, flipping in the air like some kind of acrobat and landing on his face.
Mark flailed. "WHAT—WHAT THE HELL?!"
You tilted your head from where you were still lying in the nest, surrounded by tiny babies.
"You loud," you said, unbothered. "Babies sleep."
Mark sat up so fast the baby on his face tumbled into his lap. "I—what—what the fuck?!"
Mark’s brain short-circuited.
He looked around. The nest was covered in tiny, glowing babies—some were curled in your hair, chewing on it like kittens, others were nestled against your stomach, and a few were floating?
Then, slowly, he looked down at the tiny baby in his lap.
It was looking up at him with big, glowing eyes.
It reached out—tiny, delicate hand brushing against his chest.
Then it leaned forward and kissed him.
You were still holding one in your hand, gazing at it with a soft, angelic smile, your eyes full of warmth.
The tiny baby made a bubbling, singing noise, almost like a frog’s call but… softer. Sweeter.
Mark’s heart squeezed.
This was…
This was… actually… kind of beautiful?
The baby bite your finger.
And you laughed.
It was the most pure, soft, happy laugh Mark had ever heard from you.
Mark felt his head spin.
His chest ached. His eyes burned.
He stepped forward, swallowing thickly. "Babe… are these…?"
You looked up at him, your glowing eyes soft and proud. "Our sons."
Mark felt his heart explode.
"Sons. I have sons. Holy shit. I have too many sons."
Then, as Mark took in the beautiful, fairytale-like scene before him—
You opened your mouth.
Wide.
Way too wide.
Like something out of a horror movie, teeth glistening.
And one of the babies dangling above your mouth.
Mark’s soul left his body.
"HOLY SHIT—"
He lunged forward, grabbing the baby out of your hands.
You blinked at him, confused. "Mark?"
Mark clutched the baby to his chest, horrified. "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING?!"
You tilted your head. "Eat."
Mark screamed. "NO! BAD! DON’T EAT THE BABY!"
You blinked, then giggled. "Not eat all. Only some."
Mark felt like he was going to die. "OH MY GOD. YOU’RE A TERRIFYING MONSTER."
You pouted. "Not monster. Mother. Must eat weak."
Mark hugged the baby. "OVER MY DEAD BODY."
You blinked at him. Then, after a pause, you smiled.
"Mark strong."
Mark huffed. "Damn right I am."
You just laughed and snuggled into him. "Then no eat."
Mark sighed in relief—
And then froze.
"Wait, so you’re saying—if I wasn’t strong, you’d eat them?!"
You shrugged. "Maybe."
Mark’s eye twitched.
The babies chirped curiously, tilting their tiny heads.
Mark sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Jesus Christ. I need to call my mom."
Debbie had seen a lot in her life.
But walking into her house to find one hundred tiny, fairy-like grandchildren crawling around her living room was definitely a first.
"...Mark."
Mark turned to her, exhausted. "Mom."
Debbie looked around. The babies were absolutely adorable—singing softly, clinging to Mark, playing with each other’s hair.
"...I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this."
Mark sighed. "Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting her to try to eat them."
Debbie froze.
"...She what?"
Mark groaned, rubbing his face. "Apparently, her species eats their weaker children."
Debbie stared. "And you stopped her?"
"Of course, I stopped her!"
Debbie hummed. "Huh."
Mark narrowed his eyes. "Why do you sound… not surprised?"
Debbie shrugged. "Honey, you dated an apex predator. What did you think was gonna happen?"
Before Mark could respond, Nolan walked in.
He took one look at the scene before him—
And froze.
He just stood there, staring at you—looking like he wanted to drop dead.
"...You gave birth to a hundred."
You tilted your head. "Small number."
Nolan inhaled deeply. "Small number."
Mark shrugged. "At least they’re cute."
Then, one of them climbed onto his head.
And Nolan watched as Mark just let it happen.
His expression was unreadable.
Slowly, one of the babies floated up to him, its tiny, glowing eyes staring at him curiously.
Nolan glared.
The baby chirped prettily.
Nolan’s face twitched.
The baby gently kissed his nose.
Nolan let out a deep sigh and rubbed his temples. "Goddammit."
Nolan still hate you.
But he had to admit—
These things were… adorable.
They were unnaturally well-behaved, polite, and clung to Mark like little ducklings.
And worst of all?
They liked him.
Nolan would be sitting on the couch, arms crossed, trying to ignore them—
When suddenly, a tiny one would crawl onto his lap, grab his mustache, and start playing with it.
Nolan’s eye twitched. "...Mark. Get it off me."
Mark smirked. "I think they like you."
More babies swarmed him.
They hugged his arms, kissed his face, and made little happy croaking sounds.
Nolan just sat there. Defeated.
"...I hate this."
But he didn’t move.
The babies love Mark. They sleep on his chest, crawl all over him, and fight each other for his attention.
And they were obsessed with him.
Mark could not escape.
He woke up one morning with ten of them sleeping on his chest.
Another time, he found them cuddled in his hoodies, making little happy noises.
Mark’s life was now just being followed by a pack of glowing, fairy-like children who worshiped him.
And honestly?
He loved it.
Even if he caught them eating random things.
Because these kids? They ate anything.
One time, Mark caught one of them chewing on a doorknob.
Another was licking the floor.
And one almost ate his phone.
Mark had never screamed so loud in his life.
Debbie caught one doing the dishes. She nearly cried.
They talk to you in your native language. Mark has no idea what’s being said.
It clicks, hisses, gurgles, and warbles.
It chirrs like an insect’s wings, croaks like a deep-sea creature, pulses like something breathing in the dark.
It is wet, guttural, and skittering, yet somehow, in its horrific alien cadence, eerily beautiful.
“Ɐ̷̢͙̤̖ɦ̶͙̳̝͚͖’̙̻̠̼̫͢z̢̲̦̗̗h̵̛̞h̵͍̘͉̠͙l̨̡̥̟̝̠͚l̠̦͉̜͜ͅ r̸̪̜̰͕ͅr̴̗’̳͚̦̲̲̞k͕̗͉̗͢a̶̛̗̞̩a̵̜̯͖̜̠a̵̙̦͉̗̦ͅ-̡̡͉̪͕̞̪̜c̡͚h̴̡͍̖̦̳ī̶͓͖̝͚̙ī̴̫̻͇ͅī̡̢̬͈̹,͇̜̞̩͎͎̕͜ ś͍͉͉s͏̦͕͍̻ͅa̶̮̠̳̲̹’̴͖͍͈͙͖v̦̬̺̰̻͍͠a̸̳h̞̦͈͈r̸̖͖̞h̖͙̯͜h̵͉̠̘͎̞̰ t͉̳͈͞c̴̳͍̜̟̟̻h̨̹̖̳̖͡ͅa̢̰͓͚͎’̡͎̹͡k̸̝͝a͓̞̗͡a͎̠ͅr̵̫̪u̶̘̜͚u̢͍͉̠̘.̸̪”
Sleep, little spawn, the dark waters hold you now... hush... hush... hush...
“T͕͘’͖͚͓͡k̦̘͖͍̀k̢͉͍h͏̲̼̙r̩̙̦̬r̵̨̟r͙͉͚͉̺͘ͅ s̜̻͎̞͜s̛̪̠̼̘̦’̵͏̻͍̯ͅk̸̼͙̞͍̩̯̕a̴̬̰̳͍̘͇͝a̛̬a̼̕̕’̡̦v̸̮͕̲̞̙̕v̵̛̠̜̲n̹̩̕n̨̩͙̝̲̬̳͠,̸̜͍̗͇ h̹͎̲͕͜h͉͝’̨̡͓̝͎̰z̖͙̠͝ͅr̷̞͉̤͚̘̗͞r̜̼͢r̸͙̼̟̕a̡̻̦̙̞͡a̛͙͉-̵̨̳͕̩c̡̡̲͈h̖̜̤͟ͅi̢̨̻̥̤i̵̛̗’̻̘̲̘͠v̷͎̯̘h͎͝u̞͝r̷͉̗̩̰r̴̙͎̞ͅ.̦̖̞͎́”
Do not tremble, do not weep, the deep will consume all things in time... hush...
“C̞̩̠̰͘h̞̻̪̀k̨̼̲̺̠k̠̀’̼̕ͅh̶̨̞h̵̘z̢̙̞̞z̷̲̩̰—͏̗̝v̡̻a̵̦͖̬à̺̗’͙̤̤͙̳͡r̶̜̲̱̬͢i̼̪͡’̷̡̯̹x̷̡̗h̷̩͜h̩͞a͏͙̪̼̝͝a̸̲̥!̡̢̬͇̪͖ K̨̩r̠̕i̦̩̕͢i̛̺͜’͜ͅͅt̷̮̼̩͙ź͖̥̤c̯̙̳̟̥̕h̸͜ v̶͔͢r͏̡̞̜̼’̵͏̰r̸̜͎̰r̼͡n̷̦̝̜̰n̛̬̦͖̜a̛͚̻̗̝?̨͏͎̰”
Oh, my little crawling thing—what is this mess you've made?
“H͠h̀͜z̷z͝h̸̗̬͖̼’̡̺̩̪͓k̷̺̦̠̩k̛̘h̸̝̯͕,̢͎̗̬ v͞á̻͕a͠’̸̳͚͇͙x̡̨̬̦r̸͕̟͙͜r̢̛̻̩̲h̕͟.͡.̶̯̜͓̼͉̹.̶̩͙̻ c̴̝͉h̢̨̝̗̤’̵̙̯̗t̡̢̻z̷͎̻̳h̸̗̖h͙̖̕̕h̷̪͓ v́r̴̻̖r̶̦̠̰a͠a̢̠̙a̳͜a̢̲̰̟ s̴͚ͅz̞̝̦̕͞à͙’̨͙͖̕l̨̙̰̖͡a̢.̶̦̦”
Shhh, my teeth... I will tell you what the tides never whisper...
“T̵̟̝̻’͍͡s̵̗̝̼h̢̯̗̰̰h̢͚͕̪k̷͖a͏̛̥̖a̛̜͎͍͕ v͎̬̗̖͢v͏̡̙̜̗r̵̬̘̻͡’̵̯͙̕h̨͎h̦̞̹̕u̷̝̲u̦͕̬͜u̷̠̰n̶̨̝̗̠ c̰̩̝̺͘h̸͏̝͙̼̩z͚͎͔̕z̛̙͕̯t̩͘͝’̛̹̹̰̘v̸̰̹̗͉͜v̡͏̹̹̲̬h͇̕̕a̵͖a͏͕,̷̨̠͙͉ m͏̹͚̖a̡͚̲̠͠h̡̛̗̗’̪̬̪̻̯͝t̴̬̻c̸͍̘̯͍̝̕h̸̦͡r̘̖̳͜ͅr̢͎͠h̷͍̤.̷̢͎”
Come, my dripping, writhing things... to my arms.
They all croak back in unison everytime.
Mark dies of cuteness. He's also kinda scared because he don't understand anything.
They like to steal Nolan’s things. His gloves, cape, books.
One tried to steal his boot.
Nolan caught it dragging the boot across the floor.
"Mark. Control your gremlins."
"Dad, they’re literally palm-sized babies."
"They have no fear."
The babies nest with you. They curl up in your hair, hold onto your fingers, and purr.
Mark watches them sleep and feels his heart explode.
He still can’t believe it.
He’s a dad.
And despite the sheer insanity of it all, Mark had to admit—
These kids were freaking adorable.
They clung to him like little monkeys, curling up on his chest when he napped.
They kissed him all the time, tiny soft lips pressing to his cheeks, nose, and forehead.
They loved everyone—especially his mom.
Debbie would be cooking, and they’d all be floating around, handing her ingredients.
"Thank you, sweetie," she cooed at one, patting his little head.
The baby made a soft, frog-like song, happy and proud.
Even Nolan had given up fighting it.
Mark had caught him more than once with a tiny baby curled up in his palm, snoring.
"...They are cute," he admitted.
Mark smirked. "See? Told you."
And Mark’s favorite thing?
You, curled up in the nest, singing them a lullaby in your strange, haunting language.
The babies would float around you, making soft chirping sounds, slowly drifting to sleep.
Mark would just sit there, watching, realizing how much he loved this insane, beautiful, monstrous woman.
And his strange, perfect, tiny children.
— NEXT ☆ Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.
— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆
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