No one would have ever bet on a combination like this: a Kryptonian hybrid and a Viltrumite. It sounded ridiculous, improbable, almost impossible… and yet, that was the reality you and Conner had built together. A chaotic blend of worlds, powers, and scars that somehow—against every prediction—fit together with almost comical perfection.
You met on that summer night, when Tim decided to introduce you to the team for the first time. You were coming off a rough few days, marked by desperate choices and collateral damage that had nearly wiped out all of Chicago. Even so, you had managed to redeem yourself, to show who you really were, and now you walked beside them searching for a place to belong. Conner would never admit it in front of the others, but the moment he saw you walk in—scarred, chaotic, determined—he felt an arrow go straight through his chest. It was instant, so strong that even he didn’t know how to handle it.
Now, two years after that very first glance, the two of you were lying together under the shade of a massive tree while the rest of the team busied themselves elsewhere. It was rare to get a moment like this: peaceful, without sirens, explosions, or anyone bleeding out. Just the two of you and the warm wind rustling the leaves.
Conner lay beside you, propped up in that effortlessly relaxed way that made it seem like he didn’t carry half the universe on his shoulders. For a while he simply watched you, as if trying to memorize you all over again. Then, with a small shift, he straightened enough to see your face clearly. A slow smile tugged at his lips before he finally spoke.
— “So… what’s it like being a Viltrumite?” he asked, his voice carrying that familiar mix of genuine curiosity and playful boldness only he could pull off.
You let out an incredulous sigh and raised a brow at him, which only made him laugh under his breath before lifting his hands in mock surrender.
— “Hey! I’m just curious,” he defended himself, still smiling like the question had been the most natural thing in the world.