otp: clark x lois

10

“What I particularly enjoy about her character is the side of Clark that she brings out. I love the sarcastic, tongue-in-cheek humor that we’re able to portray in that relationship, and haven’t been able to in the past because of the heavy, dramatic situations that Clark often found himself in with the other characters.”—Tom Welling

god bless the dceu for giving me finally the clark and lois love story i’ve always wanted to see. Thanks to Zack Snyder for caring so much about them and show finally the importance of lois lane in clark kent’s life. Justice League just proves once again the power couple that they are. the ultimate ship. the king and queen of dc ships. they’re THE couple and if you don’t ship them you don’t know what you’re missing.                           

WHY DO THEY KEEP PARALLELING CLARK/LOIS WITH KARA/LENA???? THEY DON’T HAVE TO. THEY PROBABLY SHOULD DO THAT WITH MON-EL AND KARA IF THEY WANT THEM AS ENDGAME… YET HERE WE FUCKING ARE…. WHYYY??? IT MAKES NO SENSE. WHY PARALLEL THIS FRIENDSHIP (how they want to make it look so far) WITH A SHIP THAT IS ALWAYS ENDGAME AND THE MOST WELL KNOWN CANON COUPLE IN THE UNIVERSE? EXPLAIN

After reading this post detailing what we might have had in Zack Snyder’s original version of Justice League with Lois and Clark’s reunion, I felt compelled to write something. So here’s that little something:

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    Smallville, Kansas.

    Clark didn’t know what this place was to him precisely, but there was something familiar in the air of it, in the rustle of green around him, in the uneven feel of the broken earth beneath his feet. He knew he had memories of here, memories fundamental in the shaping of who he was, but he couldn’t summon and hold them in his mind’s eye long enough to truly see them; they were sand running through fingers unable to clench tight, and they sifted away from him in the gentlest of whispers.

    “Do you remember? This is home, Clark. You grew up here.” Lois’ voice was calm but there was a tension behind it. Both concern and love jostled for prominence and the timbre cracked slightly at the pull of each of them.

    He breathed in, not sure how to respond, and hitched the warm air within, not ready to exhale until words found him - if they even would. Looking around there was much to take in, too much even, and his eyes started darting back and forth across the expanse of fields. Suddenly the serenity of the Kansas horizon was changing, the sum splitting into its trillion parts. The textured veins of each leaf in the fields before him, every shade and hue of the changing early evening sky magnified and burning bright, each of the cracked splinters in the creaking wooden planks of the exterior of the farmhouse, he couldn’t filter any of it. All vied for his full attention, and the visual demand of it assaulted him like hail in a hurricane.

    With the breath knocked out of him he closed his eyes tight and fell to his knees hard. He squeezed his trembling hands into fists, as if the sensation of fingers digging deeply into palms might buffer against the pain of the onslaught.

    Lois fell immediately to his side, her hand gripped over his and arm placed tenderly across his broad shoulders. “Clark, what’s wrong? Clark, stay with me!”

    But with his eyes closed, where visual was for the moment kept at bay, auditory began its roar. Soft breeze became howling gale, the creak of the trees on the field’s edge seemed to reverberate all around him, threatening his balance. And the voice that felt more home to him than any bricks and wood ever could pierced deep, and he cried out and jerked away from it.

    By now a crowd was beginning to form in the near distance; in a small town where everyone was neighbours, word spread quickly, and the possibility of familiar faces having returned to the Kent farm was too much of a pull not to convene. Whispers of disbelief may as well have been shrieks and bellows, and the clicks and flashes from cameras and mobile phones crashed like thunder and lightning.

    Thunder and lightning.

    Clark’s heart began to pound and race, and without thought he opened his eyes to find he was no longer at the farm but instead on a rooftop, rain pouring in the darkness of night, storm raging all around him, and green fog choking both air and life out of him. Two eyes, animalistic and glowing an icy blue, mocked and sneered.

    “Breathe it in. That’s fear…”

    Not this, not again.

    “Clark, listen to me, listen to my voice!”

    No. I won’t let it!

    “Clark!!”

    He felt it then, something deep within, something primal and instinctual and with a life of its own. It drew on all his fear, all his rage, and exploded, the inferno spreading throughout his body through too-tight veins from core to extremities. He felt the familiar searing heat of it channel through his eyes to a laser point, and he let it burn towards the shrieks and bellows, towards the thundering flashes, towards those white-blue eyes.

    And then he felt something else, something under the palm of his hand he hadn’t realised he’d unclenched. A slow rhythmic pulse, a beating heart. And then a whisper:

    “Focus on this, Clark, just this. Breathe.”

    Almost immediately, the fear, anger, and confusion that Clark had lost himself in started to ebb away, and he found his breath calming to the steady beat of the heart whose sound he suddenly remembered and knew so well, the sound of his world. Shutting his eyes tight against the funnelled fire to extinguish it, shaking the pain of it away, he looked to that anchor and saw his hand on Lois’ chest, centred there to centre him. Her hand was clasped over his with only the faintest touch, and when he lifted his eyes to meet hers, the blue calm he found there was locked onto his.

    He wanted to look into those eyes forever, to feel the love and compassion and understanding they conveyed better than words ever could, but the horror of his actions pulled his gaze away to the fields burning in his periphery. People were running away in desperation and fear; his earlier panic had seen his heat-vision shoot blindly and had meant no one had been injured, but the thought that they very easily could have… or worse… He looked back to Lois - what did I nearly do Lois? What did I nearly do? - and, seeming to read his thoughts, she brought her hands to his face, holding his gaze to her.

    “Clark, it’s okay, it’s okay. They’re okay.”

    Before Clark could say anything in response, Lois reached down from his face to hold both his hands. She squeezed them gently, a gesture with reassuring intent, but he couldn’t allow himself to reciprocate it, didn’t dare to squeeze them back, suddenly fearful of his own destructive potential and his ability to control it.

    “Lois, I-”

    “Come with me,” she nodded her head in the direction of the farmhouse, “inside. Someone else who loves you will want to see you, to be here for you. She’s missed you so much.”