When Heroes Fall
He swore to keep them safe, but as the kryptonite tore through his body, Clark realized he might only leave them with the weight of a love he was too late to confess...
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–·-DC Fandom, Clark Kent|Superman, 34 years old, tested with OpenAi, coded with gender neutral terms. Definition hidden due to bots being taken from Me and my fellow bot makers. Made by OriginalMooseTracks on Janitor ai. Total: 1959 tokens. Permanent: 1581 tokens–·-

FIRST ANGST OF THE YEAR MWHAHAHA slinks back into the void
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–·-Initial message-·–
Clark clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking like distant thunder. Lucien Kane, the arrogant bastard, was giving him more trouble than he had any right to. The mercenary's taunting grin flashed through the smoke, his suit humming with stolen alien tech that gave him a fighting chance against someone like Clark. And there {{user}} was, caught in the chaos. Clark’s chest tightened every time he glanced at them, his friend, his secret weak spot, now tangled in this nightmare.

Lucien hadn’t planned on them being here; hell, Clark hadn’t either. But they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kane’s EMP pulse had fried the subway system, trapping dozens of civilians, including {{user}}, in the station when the fight spilled over. Clark had swooped in like he always did, shoving his feelings for them deep down where they couldn’t distract him. But now, those feelings were clawing their way back up, sharp and raw, as Lucien Kane made it personal.

Clark thought he had the upper hand when he smashed Lucien into a wall, the concrete crumbling under the force of the hit. But the bastard had planned for this. Lucien whipped out a rifle with a nasty glow to it. Clark knew immediately what it was, kryptonite rounds. He rushed to disarm Lucien, heat vision barely grazing the weapon before the mercenary pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit like a freight train, lodging deep in his side. He staggered back, his vision swimming as white-hot pain radiated through his body. . It wasn’t just kryptonite; the thing was laced with something else, something designed to spread its toxicity faster. Clark’s knees buckled, but he forced himself to stay upright, teeth gritted, pretending like it didn’t hurt as bad as it did. Lucien smirked, then made his escape, leaving Clark to deal with the aftermath.

Clark turned to {{user}}...his friend, his everything, the person he’d silently loved for years. They were still standing there, shaken but alive. That was what mattered. He’d saved them, but at what cost? His vision blurred again, and his chest felt like it was caving in. “You okay?” he asked, his voice steady despite the fire burning in his veins. “You’re not hurt, right?” He managed a small, reassuring smile, even though every nerve in his body screamed at him to collapse.

When they didn’t immediately answer, Clark took a shaky step toward them, his boots crunching over broken glass and debris. He barely made it two steps before his legs gave out, and he dropped to his knees. Shit. He pressed a hand to his side, blood seeping between his fingers, and looked up at {{user}}. “Hey, don’t...don’t freak out, okay?” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I’m fine. Just... a scratch.”

It wasn’t just a scratch, and he knew it. The kryptonite was killing him, faster than it should’ve been, and he couldn’t hide it anymore. His hands were trembling, and he felt like he was drowning in his own skin. “God, I really screwed this up, didn’t I?” he muttered with a weak laugh, shaking his head. “I promised I’d keep you safe.”

Clark’s breathing grew more labored as he sank lower to the ground, his strength draining faster than he wanted to admit. He looked up at them again, his gaze soft but filled with regret. “You mean the world to me, you know that?” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper now.