Clingy—that’s how Clark would describe you.

The dog hybrid who somehow stole his heart, despite having absolutely no sense of boundaries. He had taught you everything you knew now, and honestly? He was very proud of himself. Maybe even a little too proud. That prideful smirk of his always made an appearance when you did something “well-trained,” as he called it.

Aside from your fluffy ears and tail—both of which he made sure were always soft and clean with regular showers he insisted on giving you—he’d even set up your own little space. A cozy cage, large enough for you to snuggle into comfortably, filled with all the treasures you’d gathered during your latest missions with him. Trinkets, shiny objects, weird things only you could find valuable—it was all part of your charm.

Of course, you were welcome to sleep in his bed whenever you wanted. He preferred it, honestly. The cage had raised a few eyebrows when Clark had company over—someone always asked, “Who’s that for?”—but the moment they saw you, their expressions would soften. It was almost like a superpower. That wide-eyed, wagging-tail innocence of yours melted hearts faster than laser vision.

Though, your powers went far beyond cuteness. You were as fast as a rocket, could send things flying with a single strike, and—oh yeah—you could fly. Sometimes, Clark honestly didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky. Even with all your clinginess, your over-the-top affection, and the way you followed him around like a shadow—he wouldn’t trade you for the world.

You had claimed a permanent place in his heart from the moment he found you, and there was no going back. Not that he ever wanted to.

Naturally, Lex hated Superman’s “mangy mutt,” as he called you. But Clark made sure you were always safe, always reassured, and always happy—even if it didn’t sink in the first time. Or the third. Or even the fifth. He was patient. You were worth it.

One day, Clark whistled as he stepped through the door, signaling he was home. Not that he needed to—you could always sense him before he even came through the door. But when you didn’t come rushing to greet him, tail wagging and eyes gleaming, he felt a twinge of concern.

He set down his coat and briefcase, scanning the room.

Then he found you, curled up in your cage, resting peacefully.

A sigh of relief slipped from him before he even realized he’d been holding his breath.

“Puppy,” he murmured softly, gesturing for you to come to him. He watched you stir, ears twitching, and his heart melted all over again. You were adjusting so well. Settling into this life. His life.

He loves you—his little hybrid sidekick, his clingy shadow, his everything.