Flicker

by dogyearsareover2

Summary:

lena and kara having a movie night and it's their first one sense their fall out so a lot of scary but good feelings come out

Notes:

New release and the amount of chapters will be random I post as I write

Chapter 1: Movie Night Like Old Times

Lena sat stiffly on Kara’s couch, clutching a throw pillow like a life raft.

She wasn’t sure why she’d said yes to this. A movie night. Like old times. The words Kara had used in the text, hopeful and casual, like the gaping silence of the last year didn’t exist between them.

Kara entered the room balancing two mugs of hot chocolate, her eyes flicking nervously to Lena every few seconds. “Here,” she said, offering one. “Extra marshmallows.”

“Thanks,” Lena said quietly, fingers brushing Kara’s as she took the cup. Neither of them flinched—but neither lingered.

The opening credits of The Princess Bride started to roll. It was neutral ground. Not one of their movies. Nothing tied to the nights they used to spend shoulder-to-shoulder, knees bumping, laughing between bites of popcorn.

Lena focused on the screen, but her heartbeat was too loud.

Every few seconds, she’d catch Kara glancing at her. Not obvious. Not pushy. Just… there. Watching. Like Kara was still trying to read her—still trying to make sure she wasn’t made of glass now.

Halfway through the sword fight scene, Kara finally said something.
“I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

Lena blinked, turning slowly. “To this?”

Kara nodded. Her voice was low. Careful. “To see me. After everything.”

Lena swallowed. “It’s been a long time.”

“I know.”

A beat.

Kara shifted slightly, curling her legs beneath her. “I missed you.”

Lena’s fingers tightened around her mug. “You hurt me.”

Kara didn’t flinch. “I know.”

Silence again, but not as thick. More like fog—uncertain, but passable.

Lena turned to her fully now, legs angled slightly toward Kara. “And I hurt you too. I know that. I know I—what I did wasn’t fair. I didn’t trust you, and I should have.”

Kara blinked. She hadn’t expected that.

Lena kept going. “You offered me your truth. And I buried mine in pain and pride.”

Kara looked down at her mug, swirling the marshmallows. “We were both scared.”

They sat with that for a while. The movie played on. Inigo Montoya kept fencing. Buttercup kept falling. But their eyes barely left each other now.

“You’re not the only one who missed someone,” Lena said finally, voice cracking.

And then Kara smiled.

Soft. Hopeful. A little teary.

“I don’t know how to start over,” Kara admitted. “But I want to.”

Lena looked at her. Really looked.

Then, without thinking, she reached over and gently tugged Kara’s hand into her lap, holding it like she used to—thumb brushing over knuckles, grounding them both.

“Then we don’t start over,” she said. “We just… start here.”

Kara squeezed her hand back, silent but glowing.

The movie ended. The credits rolled. But neither of them moved.

Not away.

Not anymore.

Chapter 2: No I Want To Stay

They were on their third movie.

Something terrible and comfortingly bad—a cheesy alien invasion flick that Kara had picked with the excuse of “pure cinematic excellence,” which Lena had immediately mocked.

But somewhere between the second plot hole and the third explosion, Lena had gone quiet.

Not annoyed-quiet. Not tense-quiet.

Sleepy quiet.

Kara glanced over.

Lena’s head was starting to tilt sideways, her posture slowly giving in to the gravity of exhaustion. Her hand, still loosely wrapped around Kara’s, was limp now. Her eyes fluttered every few seconds,
blinking long and slow.

“Lena,” Kara whispered, soft as the flickering screen light. “You’re falling asleep.”

Lena didn’t move. Didn’t open her eyes. Just murmured, “’m not.”

Kara smiled despite herself. “You just slurred a one-syllable sentence. Come on. Let me help you to bed.”

“No.”

That made Kara blink.

“No?”

Lena shifted, nestling deeper into the corner of the couch, eyes still shut. “If I go to bed, the night’s over.”

Kara’s chest tightened. “It’s late. You’re exhausted.”

“I know.” A pause. “I just… don’t want to leave yet. I don’t want it to end.”

Kara stared at her, heart thudding.

There was no bitterness in Lena’s voice. No edge. Just soft, raw honesty, coated in sleep and unsaid longing.

She reached over, gently brushing a strand of hair from Lena’s cheek. “You’re not leaving, Lena.”

Lena cracked one eye open, lips barely parting. “You sure?”

“Positive.” Kara threaded their fingers together again. “Tonight doesn’t have to end. Not really. You can sleep here.”

Lena blinked slowly. “Like… here on the couch?”

Kara hesitated. Then: “Or in my bed. If you want.”

That pulled Lena’s eyes open fully—just for a second.

And then she nodded.

“Okay.”

Kara helped her up, guiding her with one arm around her waist. Lena leaned against her without shame, warm and pliant.

Once in Kara’s room, Lena sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her jeans off. Kara handed her an old, oversized T-shirt.

Lena changed in silence, the moment hanging quiet and thick between them.

When Kara finally climbed in beside her, they lay there for a while—not touching. Just sharing air. Space. Heartbeats.

Until Lena whispered, “Thank you.”

Kara turned toward her. “For what?”

“For still being here.”

Kara reached out and found her hand again in the dark. “Always.”

Lena didn’t respond with words.

She just inched closer, resting her forehead against Kara’s shoulder. Kara hesitated only a moment before curling an arm around her, pulling her in completely. Hoping she never leaves, that if she lets go

It will only be just a dream.

Chapter 3: Breakfast

The morning sun filtered in through the window, slanting gold across Kara’s sheets.

Lena woke first.

It took her brain a full thirty seconds to realize where she was—whose bed this was, whose arm was wrapped loosely around her waist, and why her leg was thrown completely over Kara’s like she was trying to absorb her in her sleep.

She blinked, slowly.

Kara’s face was close. Too close. Soft lips parted. Her hair a mess. Peaceful, stupidly beautiful.

Lena froze. Not in fear—just… uncertainty.

Because this wasn’t a moment that was supposed to happen again. Not after everything. Not after their fall apart.

And yet…

Kara stirred.

“Mmngh,” she mumbled, stretching a little before her eyes blinked open. She froze immediately upon seeing how close they were. “Oh.”

Lena swallowed. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Kara whispered.

Neither of them moved. Not even to breathe.

Kara finally did—sharp and awkward. She shifted slightly, trying to create space, only to realize she was trapped by Lena’s leg still tangled with hers. “Sorry, I—uh—we fell asleep.”

“Clearly,” Lena said, sitting up too quickly. The blanket slid down, and Kara’s oversized T-shirt she’d borrowed the night before slipped off one shoulder.

Kara looked away instinctively. Then looked back. Then away again.

“I didn’t mean to—uh, cling. I must’ve rolled over in the night.”

“It’s okay,” Kara said quickly, voice a little too high. “You’re not the only one who—uh—rolled.”

They both sat there, legs awkwardly pulled up like teenagers after their first almost-kiss, neither quite knowing how to be normal again.

“I’ll get coffee,” Kara said, bolting upright. “You—uh, feel free to just stay in that. The shirt. My shirt. Or I can find something else if you want—”

“Kara.”

She turned.

Lena was standing in the doorway, one hand on the frame, the hem of Kara’s T-shirt brushing bare thighs. She looked unsure. Beautiful.

“I like this one,” Lena said softly.

Kara’s heart did something it hadn’t done in months—skipped, stumbled, soared.

She cleared her throat. “Good. Great. Yeah. Coffee.”

The kitchen was quiet.

Lena sat at the island, one hand curled around a warm mug. Kara stood by the stove, pretending she wasn’t watching her.

Neither said much for the first few minutes.

It was… tentative. The kind of silence that wasn’t empty, but full—of possibility, of nerves, of things too big to name before caffeine.

Lena broke it first.

“I didn’t expect to wake up with you,” she said, voice low.

Kara smiled into her mug. “I didn’t expect you to fall asleep on me.”

Lena laughed. Soft. Sleep-warm. The kind that made Kara feel like the sun was rising again.

They both fell quiet again, this time less awkward. More… comfortable.

Finally, Kara set her mug down and leaned back against the counter. “Lena… what are we doing?”

Lena looked up. Not startled. Just searching.

“I think,” she said slowly, “we’re trying. Softly. Carefully. Like it could break if we move too fast.”

Kara nodded, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“I’m okay with slow,” she said.

Lena tilted her head. “You sure? You don’t really do anything slowly.”

Kara grinned. “Maybe not. But for you? I’ll learn.”

Lena’s eyes softened.

And then—finally, finally—she stood, crossed the space between them, and leaned in. Not for a kiss. Not yet.

Just close enough to rest her forehead gently against Kara’s.

Quiet.

Warm.

Real.

And in the morning stillness, everything unsaid began, finally, to bloom.

Chapter 4: Big Sister Alex who's bring coffee and treats

Kara could feel Lena’s breath—warm and steady—between them. Her forehead was resting gently against hers, the air thick with quiet promise.

And Kara… Kara was about to move.

Just a little. Just enough.

Just—

BANG.

The front door slammed open.

“Okay, I brought coffee and pastries because someone texted me freaking out about how she might ‘accidentally cry or make a move or combust’ during movie night with Lena—”

Alex’s voice came to a screeching halt.

Right there, in Kara’s kitchen, was Lena Luthor, still in Kara’s oversized shirt, hair sleep-mussed, cheeks pink.

Kara spun around, eyes wide, face already going nuclear red.

Alex froze. Slowly looked between them. Took in the flushed faces, the close proximity, the fact that Lena had clearly just gotten out of bed.

“...Oh shit, she’s here,” Alex whispered.

Lena arched a brow, but didn’t move away. “Nice to see you too, Alex.”

Kara buried her face in her hands. “Why, why, why.”

Alex coughed, clearly trying—and failing—not to laugh. “Well. This is definitely not how I planned to find out you survived movie night.”

Lena looked entirely amused. “I’m guessing she didn’t tell you I was staying over?”

“She told me plenty,” Alex said, putting the bag of pastries on the counter. “Yesterday, I got about fifteen texts in a row that went from ‘What if this is a mistake’ to ‘Her eyes are so green I might die’

to ‘Why did I say extra marshmallows like that.’”

Kara groaned loudly. “Alex.”

“Hey, I was being supportive!” Alex raised her hands defensively. “I even brought the emergency emotional pastries. I didn't think I’d walk in on a literal post-sleepover almost-kiss moment.”

Lena turned to Kara, clearly biting back a laugh. “You were freaking out?”

“She was,” Alex confirmed helpfully. “It was adorable. There were emojis involved.”

“Alex.”

Alex winked and finally grabbed her own coffee, still grinning. “Anyway, I’ll let you two get back to your domestic pining or whatever. I’ve clearly done my job here.”

As Alex retreated with her croissant, Lena turned back to Kara, lips twitching with amusement.

“Domestic pining?”

Kara looked like she wanted to melt into the floor. “We were having a moment.”

“We were,” Lena agreed, stepping close again. “Do you want to pick it up where we left off?”

Kara blinked. “Seriously?”

Lena leaned in again, close enough that Kara could count the freckles on her cheeks. “Unless you’re expecting another sister-shaped interruption?”

“No,” Kara whispered. “Just you.”

And this time—this time—no one interrupted.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Years in the making.

When they pulled back, Lena smiled, forehead brushing Kara’s again.

“I think I like movie nights again,” she murmured.

Kara laughed, arms slipping around her waist. “Then we’ll just have to keep having them.”

Chapter 5: Years of Wanting Spilling Over

The next movie night felt different.

Same couch. Same TV. Same smell of buttery popcorn hanging in the air.

But everything else? Changed.

Lena was back in her favorite spot, curled up on one end of the couch, a blanket draped over her legs. Kara sat next to her, closer than usual—no polite buffer of space. Their arms touched. Kara’s thigh brushed Lena’s every time she shifted, which, of course, she kept doing.

Lena noticed.

Kara knew she did.

The movie was some kind of romantic action dramedy, Kara’s pick—obviously meant to be “casual,” but the way her eyes kept flicking sideways, watching Lena more than the screen, told another story.

They had kissed. Once. The morning after.

But now, the air between them felt electric.

Years of unsaid words. Of missed chances. Of lingering hands and stares held just a second too long. All of it burned quietly in the space between them, aching to unravel.

Halfway through the movie, Kara reached for popcorn at the same time as Lena.

Their fingers brushed.

Neither of them moved.

Lena looked over, her face unreadable. Kara stared back, her hand still tangled with hers in the bowl.

No one pulled away.

“You’re not watching the movie,” Lena said softly.

Kara’s voice barely rose above a whisper. “I’ve already seen this part.”

“And this part?” Lena asked, not looking away.

“This is new,” Kara admitted. “But I like it better.”

Lena’s eyes dipped to Kara’s lips. Brief. Dangerous.

Kara exhaled sharply. “Lena.”

“Kara.”

The way Lena said her name was full of warning and invitation all at once.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” Kara murmured.

Lena tilted her head. “Then why didn’t you?”

Kara swallowed. “Because I was scared it would ruin everything. That you’d walk away again.”

“I won’t,” Lena whispered.

That broke something.

Kara shifted, hand sliding down to Lena’s knee beneath the blanket, warm and steady. Lena leaned in slightly, her breath catching.

Their lips met—not soft and uncertain like last time.

This was want. Years of it. Sharp, aching, slow.

Kara’s hand slid up, cupping Lena’s jaw as Lena pulled her closer by the collar of her shirt. The kiss deepened—hungry, reverent, real. Lena shifted, swinging one leg over Kara’s lap, straddling her

without hesitation. Kara gasped against her mouth, hands gripping Lena’s waist like she’d fall apart if she let go.

The movie kept playing.

They didn’t care.

Lena’s hands were in Kara’s hair now, tugging gently as she whispered between kisses, “You kept looking at me like you wanted me.”

“I did,” Kara breathed. “I do. Always.”

Lena smiled against her lips. “So don’t stop.”

Kara didn’t.
---

Lena was in Kara’s lap, her fingers twisted in the fabric of Kara’s shirt, her breath coming in fast, uneven bursts. Kara’s hands splayed wide at Lena’s hips, holding her close like she was afraid she might vanish.

They kissed like they had been waiting for years.

Because they had.

It was heat and hunger and all the things they’d kept buried under duty and damage and doubt. Kara leaned back, pulling Lena with her, until they were lying across the couch—Lena on top, Kara

beneath her, their legs tangled, the movie completely forgotten.

Kara’s hand slid up Lena’s back, fingers slipping beneath the hem of her shirt, the heat of skin-on-skin sending shivers down both their spines. Lena let out the softest sound—needy and breathless—

against Kara’s lips, and Kara nearly lost it.

She surged up, kissing her harder, hungrier, her lips dragging along Lena’s jaw, down to her throat, where she whispered, “Tell me you want this.”

Lena gasped, arching into her. “God, Kara—I’ve always wanted this.”

Kara growled low in her throat—a sound she hadn’t known she could make—and kissed her senseless.

It was desperate. Messy. Hands everywhere. Years of restraint crumbling like ash under touch and trust and finally.

Lena’s shirt was halfway off her shoulder. Kara’s thigh was between Lena’s legs, and they were so wrapped up in each other—

“Kara, I swear to God, don’t make me ping you three times—there’s a Level 5 breach in Sector 12 and—”

Kara froze.

Lena blinked, dazed. “...Did Alex just—?”

Kara groaned and dropped her head back against the couch with a thud, eyes wide in horror. “Alex.”

Her earpiece buzzed again.

“—and if you’re making out with Lena right now, you better not stop to argue, just fly and finish later, okay? Sector. 12. MOVE.”

Kara covered her face with both hands.

Lena was shaking with laughter against her chest. “I mean, at least she’s rooting for us?”

Kara sighed, already pulling herself upright, trying to smooth her hair and find her other boot. “I hate everything.”

“You love me.”

Kara paused. Turned.

Lena’s lips were still kiss-bruised. Her cheeks flushed. Her smile was real.

Kara stared at her for one perfect second, then leaned back down, kissed her slow and deep, and whispered against her lips:

“I really do.”

Then she stood, hair a mess, lips swollen, half-laced boots and all, and took off into the night.

Chapter 6: Waiting For You

Lena tried to stay awake.

She really did.

She made coffee—decaf, which felt traitorous. She turned the movie back on. She even wrapped herself in Kara’s hoodie from the back of the couch, the one that still smelled like her—sunlight and cinnamon and something warm she couldn’t name.

But time stretched, and the adrenaline faded, and her body betrayed her.

By the time Kara soared in through the balcony window, the apartment was quiet.

Too quiet.

She landed silently, scanning the room—still dimly lit by the glow of paused movie credits. Popcorn on the table. Two forgotten mugs. A blanket half-draped across the couch.

And there, curled into the corner of the couch like she belonged there…

Lena.

Fast asleep, mouth slightly parted, her cheek resting against her knuckles. Kara’s hoodie swallowed her whole, the sleeves falling past her hands.

Kara smiled softly.

All the tension—the fight, the chase, the emergency—bled out of her in one breath. She toed off her boots and walked over slowly, crouching beside the couch.

“Lena,” she whispered, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

Lena didn’t stir.

Kara leaned closer, kissed her temple gently. “I’m so sorry.”

Still no response—just a sleepy sigh and the way Lena instinctively leaned toward her touch, even in dreams.

Kara looked down at her and felt it again—that ache, that rightness. All the years of holding back had led to this: the quiet joy of being here, of not running anymore.

She scooped Lena up effortlessly, cradling her against her chest. Lena mumbled something into Kara’s shoulder but didn’t wake, just tucked her face against her neck.

Kara smiled, adjusting the blanket around her as she carried her to the bedroom. The door nudged open with a soft creak, the moonlight catching the edge of the bed.

She laid Lena down gently, pulling the covers over her, pausing for a moment to just… look.

Then Kara crawled in beside her, careful but close, one arm reaching to wrap around Lena’s waist, pulling her in.

This time, Lena didn’t need to say anything. Her body melted into Kara’s in sleep.

Kara pressed one last kiss to Lena’s shoulder and whispered, “I missed you every night I didn’t have this.”

Lena didn’t answer.

But the tiny smile on her lips was enough.

----

Lena woke slowly.

The light was soft—filtered through gauzy curtains, golden and warm. There was no alarm. No beeping. No meetings or machines.

Just warmth. Breath. A heartbeat beneath her cheek.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

And realized she was wrapped in Kara Danvers like a blanket.

Kara was lying on her back, one arm curled beneath Lena’s shoulders, the other draped loosely across her waist. She was already awake, looking down at Lena with the kind of expression no one was
ever meant to see—tender and awe-struck, like Lena had hung the stars herself.

“Good morning,” Kara whispered.

Lena hummed against her shoulder. “Do you always watch people sleep?”

“Only the ones I’m in love with.”

That made Lena pause. Her breath caught, chest rising sharply.

Kara didn’t flinch. Didn’t take it back. Just looked at her with that same soft certainty.

“I mean it,” she said, fingers brushing slow circles over Lena’s back. “I love you.”

Lena felt like her heart might burst. “You carried me to bed.”

Kara grinned. “Guilty.”

“You stayed.”

“I always will.”

Lena propped herself up on one elbow, eyes still sleep-heavy, but glowing. “Say it again.”

Kara leaned up, kissed her gently. “I love you.”

Lena kissed her back, slower. Deeper.

When they pulled apart, they were grinning.

“Can I tell you something?” Lena asked.

“Anything.”

“I fell asleep trying to stay awake just to see your face when you got home.”

Kara laughed. “And I flew halfway across the city imagining your face when I walked in.”

“You’re a sap,” Lena whispered, pulling the covers up around them.

“You love it.”

“I really, really do.”

They didn’t get out of bed for another hour.

There was no rush.

For the first time in a long time, the world outside could wait.

---

The smell of something warm and cinnamon-y drifted through the air.

Lena blinked awake slowly to find the bed half-empty, the covers still warm beside her. She stretched, one of Kara’s pillows clutched against her chest, and heard the faintest sounds of clinking dishes

and humming.

She followed the scent—barefoot, draped in Kara’s oversized hoodie, hair tousled and eyes still heavy with sleep—until she reached the kitchen.

Kara stood at the stove in pajama shorts and a tank top, flipping pancakes with one hand and holding an entire skillet in the other like it weighed nothing. The sunlight streaming through the

windows made her glow, golden hair mussed, bare feet tapping to the rhythm of whatever she was humming.

Lena leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, smiling lazily.

“You’re unfair.”

Kara turned, wide-eyed. “What? Why?”

“You look like the centerfold of a farm-girl fitness calendar and you’re making breakfast. I mean, honestly. Leave some wins for the rest of us.”

Kara grinned, cheeks pink. “You’re just saying that because I’m making your favorite.”

“I’m saying that because you’re holding a twenty-pound cast iron pan like it’s a spatula.”

Kara shrugged, smirking. “Perks of dating a Kryptonian.”

Lena padded over, wrapping her arms around Kara’s waist from behind and pressing her face into her shoulder. “Mmm. I like this perk.”

Kara laughed, then nudged her gently. “Okay, but go sit down. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m very comfortable right here.”

Kara paused. “Well… guess I’ll just have to take you with me, then.”

Before Lena could protest, Kara turned, slipped one arm under her knees, the other around her back, and lifted her effortlessly into her arms.

Lena squeaked. “Kara!”

“What?” Kara said innocently, carrying her toward the table like it was nothing. “This is my version of romantic room service.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

Kara set her down in one of the kitchen chairs like she was the most precious thing on Earth, kissed the top of her head, and spun to grab two plates.

Lena stared at her as she moved around the kitchen—confident, powerful, radiant. She’d seen Kara fight off aliens and lift buildings, but somehow this was the sexiest thing of all: soft morning hair,

pancakes, and the way she smiled like Lena was her whole world.

When Kara sat beside her, Lena leaned in, resting her hand over Kara’s.

“You know I’m completely gone for you, right?”

Kara’s eyes softened instantly. “Same.”

They ate breakfast curled close, sharing bites and laughs and toe-touches under the table.

The world was still out there—waiting.

But for now, it was just pancakes, sunlight, and the way Kara looked at her like she had no intention of ever letting go.

Chapter 7: Superwork

The plates were empty, the last of the syrup dabbed up with fingers and laughter. Kara leaned against the sink, sleeves rolled up, hands in soapy water. Lena stood beside her, towel in hand, drying one plate at a time—badly.

“You don’t have to help,” Kara said with a grin, nudging her gently with a soapy elbow.

“And let you have all the dishwashing glory to yourself? Never.”

“You missed a whole corner of that one.”

“I’m quality control,” Lena said, drying the same plate a second time just to steal a glance at Kara’s profile.

Kara, catching it, smiled to herself.

They worked side by side like they’d done it a hundred times—shoulders brushing, hands overlapping at the drying rack, leaning into each other without thinking.

When the last fork clinked into place, Kara wiped her hands and turned. Lena was already watching her.

“What?” Kara asked softly, still smiling.

“Nothing.” Lena took a breath. “Everything.”

---

Getting ready together was another kind of intimacy.

Kara stood in front of her wardrobe, pulling out her suit piece by piece while Lena sat on the edge of the bed, tying her boots.

There was no rush—just quiet efficiency wrapped in comfort. Familiar and new all at once.

Lena tossed her hair back and smoothed her coat down as Kara zipped up the top half of her Supergirl suit. Then Kara caught her watching again—same look as before.

“I just…” Lena said, walking over slowly, “I need you to know something.”

Kara straightened.

“I know what the world sees when they look at you,” Lena continued. “They see Supergirl. The hero. The symbol.”

She stepped closer, hand gently adjusting the edge of Kara’s cape. Her fingers lingered at her shoulder.

“But I see you. The one who makes pancakes. The one who hums off-key and carries me to bed like I weigh nothing. That’s the woman I’m falling in love with.”

Kara’s throat tightened. She blinked fast.

Then she leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. “Same.”

Lena smiled. “Good. Now let’s go save the world.”

---

At the Tower

The elevator pinged.

When Kara and Lena stepped out side by side—Kara in full suit, Lena all sleek coat and sharp heels—every conversation in the control room slowed. Just a beat.

They didn’t announce anything. They didn’t need to.

 

The way Kara walked slightly closer than before, the way her hand brushed Lena’s lower back as they passed, the little glances—they spoke louder than any press release.

Brainy looked up from his console and raised a brow. “Well. That’s new.”

Lena offered a smirk. “Morning, Brainy.”

Nia nudged him with a grin. “You owe me twenty bucks.”

“Technically, I said they'd kiss first. Not show up together the next morning.”

Kara groaned. “Guys—focus.”

And then—of course—

Alex’s voice over comms: “About time. Briefing in five. And if I hear one more whisper about ‘domestic goddess Lena Luthor,’ I will start passing out photos of Kara’s high school perm.”

“Alex!” Kara hissed, face going crimson.

Lena leaned in, voice like a secret, lips brushing Kara’s ear. “You have to show me that picture.”

Kara just groaned again and buried her face in her hands.

The Tower briefing room buzzed with energy as Alex pulled up the holographic interface.

“Okay, here’s what we’ve got,” she said, eyes sharp. “There was a dimensional breach last night in Sector 12—like I mentioned before someone stopped answering their comms—”

Kara slumped a little in her chair.

“—but when Supergirl did arrive,” Alex continued, “the energy residue showed traces of astral manipulation. It’s not just tech—it’s magic.”

At the word magic, Lena straightened in her chair like someone flipped a switch. She leaned forward, all grace and intent, the edge of her coat brushing against Kara’s leg as she spoke.

Kara glanced down at the contact, then back up at Lena.

She was saying something about arcane binding markers.

Kara did not catch the full sentence.

Because Lena had slipped her hand under the table and casually laid it over Kara’s thigh. Comfortably. Like she belonged there. Like she had every right.

Kara’s jaw clenched. She stared a little too hard at the floating projections.

Across the room, Nia absolutely noticed.

Alex cleared her throat and shot them a look, but said nothing.

Lena, meanwhile, conjured a small orb of soft green light from her palm and sent it drifting into the projection like a scanner.

“We can filter the breach signature through this,” she said calmly, as if she wasn’t currently melting Kara Danvers’ brain with her voice and fingertips. “The spell reacts to any dimensionally unstable
residue.”

“It’ll work?” Brainy asked.

“It already is.”

Kara turned and gave her a look that was half awe, half are-you-trying-to-kill-me.

Lena just raised an eyebrow, smug.

---

Later: In the Field

The portal flared to life above the city, cracking open like a jagged wound in the sky.

Energy screamed through it—wild, raw, unpredictable.

Kara soared up first, cape whipping in the wind, eyes lit with determination. “I’ve got structural integrity on the high end—Lena, you ready?”

Lena stood on the rooftop with a magical sigil glowing beneath her boots, coat thrown back, hair tousled by the wind. Her palms crackled with glowing lines of protective spellwork, her voice calm but
commanding.

“Always.”

She raised both hands and murmured something in Old Atlantean. A shimmering dome of emerald light surged upward, stabilizing the lower edge of the breach.

Kara’s heart skipped.

She was used to saving Lena.

Not fighting beside her like this.

Not watching her command the forces of reality with such terrifying, breathtaking control.

Not falling harder when Lena turned her head mid-incantation and shouted over the storm, “I’ve got you covered—go!”

Kara dove through the breach with a burst of heat vision, trailing a cyclone of wind behind her, her heart pounding for so many reasons.

---

Back at the Tower

The portal is sealed. The city is safe. The mission is complete.

Kara peeled off her gloves and tossed them on the console, turning to Lena with adrenaline still in her veins. “You were amazing.”

“You say that every time I bend time and space,” Lena replied, removing her coat. “Starting to think it turns you on.”

Kara flushed, biting her lip. “No comment.”

“You don’t have to,” Lena said, stepping closer.

Brainy coughed loudly in the corner. “If you’re going to kiss in here, at least warn us first.”

Alex passed by with a tablet. “No warnings needed. They’ve been making heart eyes since the briefing. At this point it’s team canon.”

Kara groaned. Lena grinned.

And as the Tower lights dimmed and the emergency passed, Kara whispered, “What if we make this a thing? You and me, side by side. Suit and spell. Always.”

Lena reached for her hand, threading their fingers together.

“We already are.”

Chapter 8: Gay Panic Edition

The apartment was quiet again.

Night had fallen. The city was finally calm.

Kara had flown them both home after the mission, the flight slow and steady. Neither of them spoke much—just shared looks, brushing fingers, and a deep, bone-deep sense of peace.

Lena was the first to disappear into the bathroom, muttering something about “portal soot” and “hex residue.” Kara had laughed, then sat on the edge of the bed and unlaced her boots with fingers
still twitching from adrenaline—and the memory of Lena standing in glowing runes like a goddess.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door creaked open, and Kara glanced up casually—

And immediately choked.

Lena stood in the doorway, wrapped in a white towel, her legs bare, water beading on her collarbone. Her hair was damp and loose, curling just slightly at the ends. She held a second towel in one
hand, eyes playful.

“You okay there, Supergirl?”

Kara made a sound that wasn’t English.

“I—uh—yep. Great. Totally fine. Normal,” she blurted, looking everywhere but at the exposed stretch of Lena’s thighs.

Lena stepped closer. “You sure?”

“You’re not—naked under that, right?”

Lena tilted her head innocently. “Do you want me to be?”

Kara actually squeaked.

Lena laughed—soft and smug—and disappeared into the closet with a flirty toss of her hair, leaving Kara buried in a pillow, trying to will herself back to sanity.

By the time Lena returned (thankfully dressed in shorts and one of Kara’s old college T-shirts), Kara had made tea and regained partial composure.

They sat cross-legged on the bed, sipping slowly. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was full of understanding. Of warmth. Of home.

Lena reached into her bag and pulled out a small, smooth crystal.

“I’ve been working on something,” she said softly, offering it to Kara. “Something just for you.”

Kara took it carefully, eyes wide. “What is it?”

“It’s a tether. A spell keyed to your signature. It doesn’t track—it just… feels. When you’re scared. When you’re hurt. When you’re alone.”

Kara blinked, heart thudding. “You made me a magical feel-you rock?”

Lena snorted. “That’s not what I was going to call it.”

“I love it.”

Kara clutched it to her chest, already glowing. “No one’s ever done something like that for me.”

Lena reached out, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “You’ve done more for me than I can ever explain. This… this is my way of holding you, even when I can’t.”

Kara leaned in, her voice a whisper. “You’re going to ruin me, Luthor.”

“Only in the best ways.”

They kissed again—slow and deep, magic warm between their palms, tea forgotten.

The city could wait. The Tower could wait.

Tonight was just for them.

---

The tea was cold now.

Kara and Lena lay tangled beneath the covers, legs woven together, heads sharing the same pillow. The window was cracked open, letting in a quiet breeze and the faint hum of the city.

Neither of them spoke for a while. It wasn’t silence—it was stillness. The kind that followed truth, and magic, and kisses that lingered longer than words.

But eventually…

Kara shifted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you ever think about… that day?”

Lena didn’t need her to clarify.

“The day I found out you were Supergirl?”

Kara nodded slowly.

“Every time I see you fly away,” Lena said quietly.

Kara’s throat tightened. “I thought I’d ruined everything. I kept thinking—you looked at me like I was someone else. Like I’d broken something we couldn’t fix.”

Lena reached out, fingers brushing through Kara’s hair gently. “You didn’t ruin everything. We were both hurting. You lied because you were scared to lose me. And I—”

She stopped, eyes searching the ceiling.

“I pushed you away because I thought if I let myself forgive you, I’d break all over again.”

Kara turned to face her fully, forehead barely touching. “You didn’t. You’re still here.”

Lena gave a small, shaky smile. “I didn’t know if I could come back from it. But somehow, I think I love you more now.”

That made Kara blink, heart tripping.

Lena laughed softly. “Is it weird? That something so painful led us here?”

Kara shook her head. “No. I think… We were always going to get here. Eventually.”

They lay in silence again, just breathing each other in.

Until Kara blurted, “Okay, but—are we girlfriends now?”

Lena blinked. “What?”

“I mean, I think we are? We kissed. Multiple times. You wore my shirt. I carried you. You made me a magic rock. And now we’re cuddling and sharing trauma and you said you loved me and I love
you, but like, I need clarity, Lena, because my brain is going kind of haywire right now and I keep thinking what if I’m misreading this even though I know I’m not—”

Lena kissed her.

Firm. Slow. Effective.

Kara melted against her with a muffled squeak.

When Lena finally pulled back, she arched an elegant brow. “Kara.”

“Yes?” Kara whispered, blinking like a short-circuited puppy.

“I don’t go around kissing all my friends like that.”

“Oh.”

“I also don’t usually sleep in their beds. Or wear their shirts. Or make them soul-linked magical tokens.”

“Good to know.”

“And I definitely don’t imagine future vacations with them.”

Kara perked up. “Wait—you imagine vacations?”

Lena smirked. “You talk too much.”

“You love it.”

“I really, really do.”

Kara grinned wide. “So… you’re my girlfriend?”

Lena leaned in, kissed her again, this time softer. “Yes. I’m your girlfriend.”

Kara made a happy, giddy noise and immediately tackled her with a hug that knocked both of them into the pillows, limbs everywhere, laughter spilling between the sheets.

And just like that—

The pain from the past faded further, replaced by something solid and bright.

A future. Together.

Chapter 9: Lena Luther is My Girlfriend!!!

The sunlight spilled gently through the curtains.

Kara blinked awake slowly, her face buried against warm skin and a soft cotton T-shirt she was pretty sure belonged to her. A leg was draped over hers. An arm curled around her waist.

And the woman holding her?

Lena Luthor.

Her girlfriend.

Kara grinned. Like, full-on, dimple-showing, cheek-burning grinned.

She shifted just slightly, brushing a kiss against Lena’s jaw.

“Mmm,” Lena murmured, not opening her eyes. “You’re up early.”

“I just needed to confirm that I didn’t dream this,” Kara whispered, nose brushing her cheek. “That I didn’t dream you.”

Lena smiled sleepily. “Still here.”

Kara pulled back enough to see her. “You’re really my girlfriend.”

“I am.”

“I have a girlfriend.” Kara said it like it was the best word in the universe. “You’re my girlfriend.”

Lena chuckled softly, eyes finally opening. “Are you going to say it all day?”

Kara rolled on top of her, resting her chin on Lena’s chest. “Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Lena Luthor is my girlfriend. This is your fault for being so pretty and perfect and magical.”

“Well,” Lena said with a smirk, “someone had to make the first move.”

Kara laughed, kissed her quickly, then sat up. “Okay. Idea.”

Lena arched her brow. “Dangerous.”

“Let’s bring breakfast to Alex, Kelly, and Esme.”

Lena blinked. “As in… tell them?”

Kara beamed. “Yup. I want them to know. I want everyone to know. Starting with our family.”

Lena softened. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

---

One hour and a very successful bakery raid later…

Alex opened the door in her robe, one brow arched, already suspicious.

“Kara. Lena. It’s eight-thirty in the morning. Why do you look smug and suspicious?”

Kara held up a paper bag. “We brought chocolate covered croissants and cinnamon rolls.”

Lena added, holding up a to-go tray: “And lattes.”

Alex squinted. “Alright, come in. But if this turns into an alien intervention again, I swear—”

Kara pushed past her with a proud bounce in her step. “It’s not! It’s good news!”

Kelly came around the corner, Esme in her arms, already smiling. “Morning! Are you—oh, you brought food.”

Esme squealed, squirming. “Auntie Kara!”

Kara caught her in a spin, lifting her up with a grin. “Morning, Esme-bean.”

Once everyone was settled at the table, coffee in hand, Kara bounced a little in her seat and looked at Lena, who nodded once, supportively.

“So,” Kara said, cheeks already pink, “we wanted to tell you something.”

Alex narrowed her eyes. “Go on.”

Kara reached across the table and took Lena’s hand—fingers laced, confident. “We’re together. Officially. Girlfriend and girlfriend.”

Kelly gasped softly and smiled wide. Esme clapped. “Like kissing and everything?!”

Lena choked on her coffee.

Kara giggled. “Yes, bean. Like kissing and everything.”

Alex sipped her coffee dramatically. “Well. I guess I have to stop threatening Lena now.”

“You threatened me?”

“Lightly,” Alex said with a shrug. “But now I suppose I’ll just skip to the next phase.”

Kara squinted. “What’s the next phase?”

Alex leaned back, all smug older sibling. “Oh, you know… casual mentions of wedding venues. Pinterest board invites. Teasing Kara about color schemes. That kind of thing.”

“Alex!”

“What?” Alex blinked innocently. “I mean, you’ve already got the ‘act married’ part down. What’s next? Matching capes?”

Esme gasped. “Can I be the flower girl?!”

Kara buried her face in her hands, laughing. Lena just beamed, her hand never leaving Kara’s.

Kelly winked. “We’re just happy for you two. It’s about time.”

Lena glanced at Kara, who was still blushing, and leaned in close. “Maybe we do need a color scheme.”

“Lena!”

---

“Okay,” Kara said, adjusting the strap of the tote bag over her shoulder, “we need popcorn, candy, juice boxes, and—”

“More chocolate-covered pretzels,” Lena added, reading off the shared shopping list on her phone. “Esme specifically asked for the swirl ones.”

“She has taste.”

“You’re just saying that because you eat half the bag before she can.”

“No comment.”

The grocery store was quiet, midmorning sun filtering through the front windows. Kara pushed the cart lazily down the aisle while Lena walked beside her, one hand casually hooked in Kara’s elbow.
Neither of them made a big show of anything—but the way they moved, side by side, occasionally bumping shoulders or trading soft glances, was loud in the quietest way.

A kid in the cereal aisle whispered to his mom, “Look! Supergirl’s shopping with her girlfriend!”

The mom didn’t even blink. “Of course she is.”

---

They took their time.

Kara reached for a bag of marshmallows on a high shelf, plucked it down with one hand, and tossed it perfectly into the cart. Lena gave her a look.

“What?”

“You’re just showing off now.”

Kara grinned. “I can lift a car, Lena. Let me have this.”

They passed by the produce section, and Lena paused to inspect apples with a surprisingly thoughtful intensity. Kara leaned on the cart and watched her.

Lena turned, caught her staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” Kara said, lips twitching. “Just thinking about how cute my girlfriend looks judging fruit like it personally insulted her.”

Lena tossed an apple at her. Kara caught it without blinking, grinning like a fool.

---

At the checkout

“Two gallons of juice?” Lena asked, eyeing the conveyor belt.

“Esme’s in a juice box era.”

“She’s eight.”

“She’s committed.”

The cashier, an older woman with soft eyes and a knowing smile, scanned their items slowly.

“You two are adorable,” she said, placing a loaf of bread into a bag. “Newlyweds?”

Kara turned bright red. “Oh! Uh—no! Not yet! I mean—not that we—uh…”

Lena reached out and laced their fingers calmly. “Girlfriends. But you’re not the first person today to make that assumption.”

The woman winked. “Well, when you know, you know.”

Kara was still blushing as they exited the store, arms full of bags, hearts lighter than they’d been in years.

Lena glanced sideways. “You panicked a little.”

“I didn’t panic.”

“You turned redder than your cape.”

“I’m just a very flattered person, okay?!”

Lena leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Relax. I thought it was cute.”

Kara looked at her, eyes full of sunshine. “You think everything I do is cute.”

“Not true.”

“Name one thing.”

“…Okay, fine. Everything.”

---

Later that evening: Alex’s apartment

Pajamas. Pillows. Pizza boxes on the floor.

Esme was curled up in Kara’s lap with her head on her chest. Lena was tucked beside them, hand resting on Kara’s thigh, occasionally feeding her popcorn without looking.

Alex pressed play on the movie and leaned over to Kelly.

“They’re disgustingly in sync.”

“They’re happy.”

“I know,” Alex whispered, smiling anyway.

On screen, the animated characters started singing. Off screen, Kara leaned down and whispered in Lena’s ear:

“Next time they call us married, I might not panic.”

Lena turned to her, smiling softly. “Good. Because next time, I might not correct them.”

Kara’s heart nearly burst.

Esme yawned.

And for the first time in a long, long time—everything was exactly as it should be

Chapter 10: I Can See Myself Marrying You

The apartment was dim and still when they got home, city lights casting soft gold across the floor.

Kara shut the door behind them with a quiet click as Lena toed off her shoes. They moved slowly, sleep already tugging at their limbs. No rush. Just the hush of the world winding down.

They got ready together with the kind of comfort that only came from repetition. Brushing teeth side by side. Trading glances in the mirror. Kara handing Lena her silk sleep shirt. Lena folding Kara’s
hoodie and leaving it on the nightstand, knowing she’d want it in the morning.

By the time they crawled into bed, the silence between them was warm—familiar and filled with unspoken things.

Kara shifted until Lena was curled against her chest, one leg tucked between Kara’s, her arm draped over her waist.

They lay like that for a while, listening to each other breathe.

Then, softly—

“Lena?”

“Mmm?”

Kara hesitated. “When Alex joked earlier… about us getting married…”

Lena tilted her head just enough to look up at her. “You’ve been thinking about it.”

Kara nodded slowly. “Not in a ‘right now’ way. But in a… ‘someday’ way. With you.”

Lena didn’t speak. She just tightened her hold a little.

Kara’s voice dropped, gentler. “I think about what that would mean in my culture. In Kryptonian tradition, marriage isn’t just a ceremony. It’s a bond. A merging of intent. You speak your vows in Old
Kryptonese, and… they become binding. Spiritually. Emotionally.”

Lena’s brow furrowed. “Binding how?”

“It’s like… your souls acknowledge each other,” Kara said softly, fingertips brushing patterns along Lena’s back. “It’s called a zhal-teh vora. It translates to ‘chosen unity.’”

Lena blinked, heart skipping. “That’s beautiful.”

Kara smiled a little. “And terrifying. Kryptonians don’t take it lightly. It’s not something you undo. It’s not just about love—it’s about trust. Future. Legacy.”

Lena’s voice was quiet but steady. “Do you think… you’d want that? With me?”

Kara met her eyes. Honest. Unwavering. “If I ever take that vow… there’s no question. It would be with you.”

Lena was silent for a long beat. Then she whispered, “I think I’d like to learn how to say it.”

Kara’s eyes softened. “I can teach you. When you're ready.”

Lena nodded, head resting just over Kara’s heartbeat. “Good. Because I’ve never believed in fate. But I do believe in us.”

 

Kara wrapped her arms tighter around her. “Then fate can take notes.”

They lay there in the hush of midnight, the city pulsing quietly outside, the weight of forever suddenly not so heavy at all.

Just possible.

Chapter 11: The Language of Stars

Summary:

Arc Two: House of El this would be a continuation of the series where they explore Kryptonian traditions together, and a flash-forward mini arc of their eventual zhal-teh vora, and soft slice-of-life moments now that they’re together.

Notes:

This next arc is going to be full of Kryptonian culture, sweet discoveries, and eventually, a beautiful transition into married life and impending motherhood

The Fortress was quiet.

Not in the way that buildings could be quiet, but in the way of temples. Of sacred places. Every echo was soft. Every light hummed low and reverent.

Lena stepped carefully across the crystalline floor, eyes wide, awe blooming slowly across her face as she followed Kara toward a large circular platform surrounded by softly glowing glyphs.

“This,” Kara said, turning to her, “is the Archive of Memory. It holds thousands of years of Kryptonian history. Cultural rites. Family traditions. Everything that survived.”

Lena looked around, her voice hushed. “It feels like a cathedral.”

“It is, in a way,” Kara replied. “Only instead of gods… we remember each other.”

She stepped forward and pressed her palm to a floating console. A low chime rang out. Then—light.

Holographic projections spun gently into the air—floating symbols, transparent books, flickering footage of ancient dances, robes, festivals, constellations drawn in gold light.

Lena turned in place, breath caught in her throat. “It’s beautiful.”

Kara watched her, a quiet smile tugging at her lips. “I wanted to show you this for a long time.”

“Why now?” Lena asked softly.

Kara hesitated, then stepped closer. “Because I want you to know me. All of me. Not just Kara Danvers. Not just Supergirl. *Kara Zor-El.* My culture. My family. What it means when I say you’re mine.”

Lena’s breath hitched, tears prickling just behind her lashes.

Kara turned back to the console, entering a command. A new projection unfolded—this one slower, more personal.

A voice began to speak, soft and melodic, in a language Lena didn’t recognize.

“Kryptonese,” Kara said gently. “This is the *Rite of Star-Bonding*. It’s how couples pledged themselves to one another. Not always marriage, but… an acknowledgment. Of love. Of choosing.”

Lena’s eyes widened. “You said once—marriage means more in Kryptonian tradition.”

“It does,” Kara nodded. “But this—this is the first step. You sit beneath the constellation of Rao, and you speak your intentions aloud. No audience. No priest. Just stars. And your heart.”

Lena was quiet for a long moment.

Then she whispered, “Teach me.”

Kara turned, startled.

Lena stepped forward, eyes unwavering. “I want to learn your words. I want to speak them to you. Properly. If this is part of your soul, then it matters to me. *You* matter to me.”

Kara didn’t speak. She simply reached out and pulled Lena close, forehead pressed to hers, tears caught in her lashes.

“I’ll teach you everything,” she whispered. “Every word. Every star.”

Chapter 12: Speak My Name Like a Star

Summary:

This is where the intimacy builds—not in grand gestures, but in *learning*, in *laughter*, and in the tenderness of Lena Luthor trying to pronounce ancient Kryptonese while her superpowered girlfriend melts with every syllable.

Notes:

Kryptonese was search up at the last min so pls bare with me

The first lesson was casual.

At least, it *started* that way.

Kara sat cross-legged on the couch, wearing an oversized hoodie and a soft smile. Lena was in her lap—well, not *quite* in her lap, but close enough that their knees brushed and Kara had to physically restrain herself from tucking a strand of hair behind Lena’s ear every six seconds.

A tablet sat between them, glowing softly with the first page of Kara’s carefully translated notes:

---

**KRYPTONESE – Lesson One**

*“Zor-El”* — House of the Sun
*“zhal”* — chosen
*“mel”* — heart
*“sei-ra”* — light in the dark

---

Lena read the first word aloud. “Zor… El?”

“Perfect,” Kara said, beaming.

“It means your family name?”

“Yeah. ‘Zor’ is the bloodline. ‘El’ is the sigil we carry. It stands for light, or hope.”

Lena gave her a look. “Of course it does.”

Kara grinned. “The others are more personal.”

Lena leaned in closer, fingertip tracing the second word. “*Zhal.* You said this one means chosen.”

“Not just ‘chosen,’” Kara murmured. “It’s… the person your soul chooses. The one you’d cross stars for.”

Lena blinked slowly. “You said it to me. That first night.”

Kara looked down, a little shy. “Yeah.”

Lena’s voice was quieter now. “Say it again.”

Kara looked up at her—eyes soft, impossibly blue—and whispered,
“*Zhal-mel.*”

Lena’s breath hitched. “My chosen heart?”

Kara nodded. “Exactly.”

Lena smiled, then pointed at the last word. “*Sei-ra.* Light in the dark. That’s what you are to me.”

Kara’s whole chest seemed to glow. “Then you’re the part of the night I want to stay in.”

They were quiet for a moment, foreheads pressed together again.

Then—

Lena leaned back and narrowed her eyes. “You’re hiding something.”

Kara blinked. “What?”

“There’s a word in the bonding phrase you won’t translate. You skipped it earlier. It's not in these notes.”

Kara bit her lip. “Maybe.”

“Kara.”

“It’s… traditional to wait.”

“To translate it?”

“To *say it*,” Kara corrected gently. “You only speak it during the actual bond. When your soul makes the promise.”

Lena tilted her head. “But you know it.”

Kara smiled, just a little sad. “I’ve known it since the moment I forgave you. Since I saw you in the tower again, and realized… I didn’t want to live without you. I just didn’t know how to say it until now.”

Lena took her hand. “Then say it in your way. When you’re ready.”

Kara nodded. “Soon.”

Then, like a nervous teen all over again, Kara blurted, “You sound really hot when you speak Kryptonese, by the way.”

Lena burst into laughter. “*Kara!*”

“I’m just saying! Ancient star-language plus brilliant girlfriend voice? Deadly combination.”

Lena leaned in, voice low and teasing. “Then I guess I’d better keep practicing.”

Kara, flustered and beaming, tackled her into a kiss that ended the lesson entirely.

Chapter 13: The Sigil

Notes:

short chapter

It happened quietly.

No grand ceremony. No Kryptonian fanfare. Just two mugs of tea, a quiet evening, and a soft snow falling outside their window.

Kara reached into a small wooden box tucked on the top shelf of the bookcase—a box that had been sealed since she was a teenager.

Inside: a delicate pendant.

A crystalline symbol etched with a glowing insignia: ∑. The crest of the House of El. Not the stylized “S” the world saw, but the *true sigil*—the one passed between hearts, not soldiers.

Lena looked up from the couch, legs curled beneath her. “What’s that?”

Kara didn’t speak at first. She walked slowly across the room, sat beside her, and pressed the pendant gently into Lena’s palm.

“It’s my family sigil,” she said quietly. “The real one. It’s encoded with Kryptonian lineage. My mother gave it to me before I left Krypton. Said I should give it to the person I trusted my legacy with.”

Lena blinked, looking down at the glowing crystal. “Kara…”

“I want it to be yours.”

Lena looked stunned. “Are you… sure?”

Kara nodded, eyes warm. “You already carry my heart. You might as well carry the crest too.”

Lena swallowed hard. “Is this… like your version of an engagement?”

Kara smiled. “Not quite. But it’s close. It’s a declaration. In Kryptonese tradition, sharing your family sigil isn’t just symbolic—it means: *you are part of me. Of my house. Of everything I’ll ever be.*”

Lena stared down at it, speechless.

She didn’t say *thank you.*

She just leaned forward and kissed her.

Not urgent. Not heated. Just *deep*. Anchored. The kind of kiss that says *I know what this means, even if I don’t have the words yet.*

---

**Later that night...**

Kara was brushing her hair in front of the mirror when she felt Lena’s arms slip around her waist from behind.

Lena rested her chin on Kara’s shoulder, eyes meeting hers in the mirror.

“You gave me your house crest.”

Kara nodded slowly.

Lena pressed a kiss just below her ear. “That means something serious.”

“It does.”

“Do I have to start calling myself Lena Zor-El?”

Kara’s eyebrows jumped. “*Only* if you want to.”

Lena nuzzled in closer. “It has a nice ring to it.”

Kara smiled, closing her eyes. “It really, really does.”

Chapter 14: Under The stars

The Fortress was glowing.

Not the usual hum of its crystals, but something brighter—warmer. The bonding circle had activated the moment Kara stepped into it, the sigils rising from the floor in spirals of light. The roof above them shimmered away, revealing the endless expanse of space—real, visible from a cloaked portal overhead.

The stars of Krypton’s sky, preserved through memory. Their names, their positions. **Rao**, shining at the center.

Kara stood barefoot at the center of the circle, dressed in traditional bonding robes—light silver lined in House El red, a sash tied loose at her waist.

Lena stood opposite her, hesitant in the same cut robes, though hers had a touch of emerald green down the collar—Kara’s addition. A fusion. Their colors together.

Lena’s breath fogged slightly in the cold air. “You sure we’re ready?”

Kara looked at her and smiled. “I’ve been ready since I fell in love with you.”

Lena blinked. “You said the bonding ritual was the step before marriage.”

“It is.”

Lena’s brow lifted. “So this is our pre-marriage ceremony?”

Kara tilted her head. “More like... the part where Krypton would’ve said we already belong to each other.”

Lena stepped forward slowly. “And what do we say?”

Kara raised her hand, her voice soft. “Repeat after me.”

---

**The Star-Bond Vow**
(*Spoken in Old Kryptonese, followed by English.*)

**Kara:**
*“Zhal-mel, sei-ra et mah.”*
(*My chosen heart, light in my darkness.*)

**Lena:**
*“Zhal-mel, sei-ra et mah.”*

**Kara:**
*“Kezh val en ral tesh et zhal.”*
(*I give my vow to stand with you, no matter the storm.*)

Lena repeated, voice trembling slightly but steady.

Then Kara paused.

Her fingers brushed Lena’s.

Her breath caught.

And instead of continuing the script, she stepped closer.

“I can’t just say the words,” she said softly, eyes glistening. “Lena, you need to know… this is more than a vow to me. When I speak these words, I’m not promising you a future. I’m *anchoring* to you. My culture calls it soul-recognition.”

Lena looked up, voice barely a whisper. “And do you… recognize mine?”

Kara smiled through tears. “I already have.”

She lifted her hand again, pressing it over Lena’s heart.

“*Zhal-von’el,*” she said, the final word Lena hadn’t yet been allowed to learn.

Lena froze.

“Translate it,” she whispered.

Kara looked at her, love radiant and fierce.
“It means: *my forever.*”

Lena’s breath hitched. Then—without hesitation—
She repeated it back. “*Zhal-von’el.*”

The glyphs around the circle pulsed gold.

The stars above them seemed to burn brighter, humming in approval.

And when Kara stepped forward and kissed Lena—slow, sure, with both hands on her face—it felt like the world held still for them.

When they finally pulled apart, Lena’s voice was thick with emotion.

“So… that was real?”

Kara laughed. “Oh yeah. The stars *heard* us.”

---

**Later, back home…**

They curled into bed together, hearts full and bodies quiet.

“You never told me you’d cry,” Lena murmured.

Kara chuckled, sleepy. “You didn’t see yourself in those robes. It wasn’t fair.”

Lena kissed her temple. “You’re mine, Kara Zor-El.”

Kara mumbled, half-asleep, “Always… zhal-von’el…”

Chapter 15: The Pull Between Stars

It started subtly.

The next morning, Kara woke to the soft warmth of Lena’s breath against her shoulder—and something in her chest *thrummed.* Not just affection. Not even love.

It was *gravity.*

Like her whole body was humming toward Lena. As if her skin had learned a new kind of magnetism. Every time Lena shifted in her sleep, Kara shifted too, unconsciously seeking contact—elbow to hip, knee to thigh, fingers reaching under the sheets just to brush against Lena’s.

When Lena finally stirred, Kara was already watching her. Glowing. Literally.

Lena blinked, squinting. “You’re… shimmering.”

Kara looked down.

Sure enough, her skin had a soft, golden luminescence. Barely visible. But it wasn’t normal.

Kara blinked. “Okay… that’s new.”

Lena sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. “Kryptonian bonding doesn’t have side effects… right?”

Kara bit her lip. “I… may have left that part out.”

“Kara.”

“I just didn’t want to freak you out! It’s different for everyone. The physical effects only show up when the bond is… real. Deep. Aligned.”

Lena narrowed her eyes, amused. “Are you telling me you’re literally glowing because you love me?”

Kara flushed. “Yes? Maybe? Probably. It’s like… my powers are syncing to you.”

“Explain.”

Kara sat up too, criss-crossing her legs under the sheets. “I can hear your heartbeat now. *Even when I’m not trying to.* I could probably track you by scent alone. And when you touched me in the kitchen earlier—my flight reflex kicked in.”

“You tried to fly into the ceiling.”

“Exactly.”

Lena laughed softly, but then sobered. “Is it uncomfortable?”

Kara looked at her, confused. “What? No. It feels like…”

She struggled for the words.

“Like… I’ve spent years holding the sun in my chest. And now, finally, it’s not burning me. It’s guiding me.”

Lena’s expression melted. “Kara…”

“I’m not stronger,” Kara added quietly, “but I feel *more whole.* Like there was something just slightly misaligned in me, and now it’s… centered. You’re my center.”

Lena cupped her cheek, eyes shimmering. “You’re going to make me cry.”

Kara smiled. “Let me show you.”

She reached out, took Lena’s hand, and pressed it against her chest—right over her solar core. The place where Kryptonians held their energy.

It pulsed—soft, golden, and reactive to Lena’s touch.

Lena gasped. “It’s warm.”

“It’s never done that before,” Kara whispered. “But now… when you touch me, it *responds.* My powers… respond.”

Lena leaned in. “And what does that mean for you?”

Kara leaned back, tugging her down with her into the pillows. “It means I’ll never not know where you are. That you are *woven into me.* If someone ever tries to hurt you—”

“They’d regret it,” Lena finished softly, thumb brushing Kara’s jaw.

“Immediately,” Kara whispered.

And then Lena kissed her.

Slow. Sure. Sacred.

And when she pulled back, her voice was playful but warm.

“So, I bonded with a goddess. What now?”

Kara smiled wide. “Now? We get pancakes.”

Chapter 16: Will you be my beginning, my middle, my end?

Notes:

This Chapter title is a song By: Leah Nobel beginning middle end I think this is a great song, go check her out. Also this Chapter is going to be long because it would have be 3 parts but I though why not put them as one

Three years later

Their house wasn’t big.

Not like the Luthor estate. Not like the Fortress. Just a two-story stone-and-glass home tucked into the hillside just outside National City. Sunlight poured through the windows every morning. The coffee pot sang a low hum. There were shelves packed with books, herbs, crystals, and old Kryptonian tapestries gifted by Kara’s people from Argo.

There were no guards. No towers. No alarms.

Just a door Kara flew through every day with a smile, and a porch swing Lena had enchanted so it never creaked.

**This was home.**

And mornings in this house?

They were sacred.

---

“Lena,” Kara whispered, nuzzling into her neck. “You’re drooling again.”

Lena groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. “It’s Sunday. Stop being sunshine.”

“I am literally powered by sunshine.”

“I hate that for me.”

Kara laughed and tugged the covers down again. “Come on. I made waffles. And there’s whipped cream.”

Lena cracked one eye open. “Did you fly to Paris again for fresh berries?”

Kara grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. “You *know* I did.”

Lena sighed and let herself be rolled gently out of bed. Kara kissed her on the forehead, nose, lips, and helped her into a robe.

They moved through the kitchen like magnets—Kara pressing into Lena’s back every time she reached for a plate, Lena rolling her eyes but smiling anyway. There were bite marks in the waffles from Kara’s impatient snacking. Two mugs steamed on the counter, one marked “World’s Okayest Witch,” the other “Superwife.”

They were halfway through breakfast when Kara paused.

Her brow furrowed slightly.

Lena noticed. “What’s wrong?”

Kara tilted her head, listening—not to the world, but to *her.*

“To you,” she said softly. “Your heartbeat is… different.”

Lena blinked. “Different how?”

“It’s… two.”

Lena stared.

Kara reached across the table and took both her hands. Her eyes shimmered. “*Lena… you’re pregnant.*”

The silence hit like a soft snowfall—quiet, breathtaking, full of weight.

Lena’s hands flew to her stomach. “I—but I wasn’t—I didn’t feel anything—”

“You wouldn’t yet. Not this early,” Kara whispered. “But I can hear it. Faint. Steady.”

Lena looked dazed. “Is it possible? I mean, we never tried. Not really.”

Kara laughed, tearful and awed. “We’re bonded. Our souls chose each other. Kryptonian biology responds to that. It *wants* to grow something from it.”

Lena’s breath caught. “A baby?”

Kara stood and dropped to her knees, resting her head against Lena’s stomach with trembling hands. “A baby.”

And then Kara started laughing through her tears. “It’s a girl.”

Lena covered her mouth, eyes wide and wet. “How do you know?”

“I *just know.*” Kara looked up at her, voice shaking. “Lena… you’re going to be a mom.”

Lena’s fingers found her hair, holding her there. “And you’re going to be the most ridiculous, overprotective, wonderful mother this galaxy has ever seen.”

Kara beamed. “You better believe I am.”

---

Lena was glowing.

Not in the poetic, “you’re glowing” way people say to pregnant women—no. Lena Luthor was *actually, visibly glowing.*

It started two days after Kara heard the heartbeat.

They were in the greenhouse—Kara was trimming a sunvine she’d cultivated from a rare Kryptonian seed, and Lena was watering the lavender, moving slow, her hand occasionally brushing her lower belly as if the truth was still sinking in.

“Kara,” Lena called out suddenly, blinking down at her arm. “Is… my skin supposed to shimmer?”

Kara zipped to her side in a blink, brow furrowing. “What do you mean shimmer?”

Lena held out her hand.

Kara gasped.

It was faint—but undeniably there: a soft, golden *glow* beneath the surface of her skin. Like stardust had settled into her bloodstream. It followed the lines of her veins. It pulsed slightly with her heartbeat.

Lena looked up, alarmed. “Kara, is this normal?”

Kara blinked, stepped back slowly, and then did something Lena hadn’t seen her do in years—she fell to one knee, reverent and stunned.

“Oh my Rao…” Kara whispered. “It’s the *Inheritance Light.*”

“The what?!”

Kara looked up at her like she was seeing a miracle. “You’re carrying House of El blood. Kryptonian blood. When a bonded partner becomes pregnant, the ancient texts say that if the union is truly aligned—if the love is deep, and the intention pure—the bearer’s body is touched by Rao.”

“Touched by your sun god?” Lena said, trying not to panic.

Kara smiled, tearful. “By *our* sun now. Lena, you’re glowing because your magic is syncing with my legacy. It’s not dangerous—it’s sacred.”

Lena stared at her hands, which now had a faint golden shimmer threading through her fingers. “This is from the baby?”

“It’s from *us.*” Kara stood again and cupped Lena’s face. “You’re carrying light. *Our* light.”

Lena leaned into her touch, voice quiet. “It doesn’t hurt. It just feels… warm. Like I’m being held from the inside out.”

Kara brushed her thumb along Lena’s cheek, where the shimmer was already starting to gather like a sunrise beneath the skin.

“Your magic is protecting her. Nurturing her,” Kara whispered. “And in return, she’s anchoring you to me. Our bond’s expanded. I can feel you more clearly than ever.”

Lena exhaled slowly. “So if I ever wander off, you’ll find me by my… magical sun sparkle?”

Kara laughed, teary. “Exactly.”

---

**Later that night…**

Lena stood in front of the mirror in their bedroom, her robe loosely tied around her waist, belly still barely changed, but her skin… it gleamed. Like gold had been folded into her.

Kara stepped behind her, arms wrapping gently around her middle. She met Lena’s eyes in the mirror.

“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful,” Kara whispered.

Lena leaned back into her. “I’m still scared.”

“So am I.” Kara rested her chin on Lena’s shoulder. “But we’re not doing this alone. You and me… we’re written in starlight now.”

Lena turned her head, pressed their foreheads together.

“You’re sure this is okay?”

Kara kissed her softly. “You are *more* than okay. You are history. You are my family. You are the mother of my child.”

Lena smiled through quiet tears.

“Then I’ll carry your legacy,” she whispered, “in every way I can.”

And beneath her skin, the light shimmered brighter.

---

Kara paced the kitchen of Alex and Kelly’s apartment, hands fluttering like wings.

“Should I have brought cake? I should’ve brought cake. People bring cake to important things. This is a cake-level moment.”

“Kara,” Lena said gently, reaching over to still her. “You brought handmade jam, three different kinds of tea, and a bouquet of sun-reactive flowers from our greenhouse. You’re fine.”

“But what if Alex passes out?”

“She’s not going to pass out.”

“She might. She once fainted when I got a tattoo.”

“You were eight and it was made of glitter.”

Kara was about to respond when the door burst open.

“Aunt Kara!” Esme squealed, launching herself into Kara’s arms.

Kara caught her midair and spun her once, glowing in more ways than one. “There’s my favorite wolf cub!”

Esme beamed. “Mama says I can have two cookies if I eat all my carrots!”

Lena nodded approvingly. “We brought strawberry jam.”

“Oooh,” Esme whispered, already planning toast strategies.

Kelly came in behind her, smiling. “You two look especially happy.”

Alex followed, eyes narrowing immediately. “You’re glowing.”

Lena opened her mouth—then shut it again.

Kara panicked. “Wha—me? No! That’s just... the Fortress lighting!”

“You’re not in the Fortress.”

“I… uh…”

Alex’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, did you two finally elope?”

“No,” Lena said.

“But you are glowing,” Alex pointed at her sister. “And *you*—” she turned to Lena, narrowing her eyes, “are wearing a *necklace I’ve never seen*, and your *aura* is all… witchy and radiant.”

Kara's voice came out in a rush. “Okay-yes-we’re-glowing-but-there’s-a-reason-and-I-need-you-to-not-freak-out.”

Alex’s entire face went blank. “You’re not dying, right?”

“No!”

“Oh thank God.” She sagged. “Then what is it?”

Kara hesitated.

And then her voice cracked just a little as she said:

**“I’m going to be a mom.”**

There was a silence.

A heartbeat.

And then:

Alex screamed.

Not a loud scream. A *choked*, disbelieving, joyful *“Are you kidding me?!”* kind of scream.

And then she *tackled* Kara in a hug.

Kara laughed—then immediately cried.

“I didn’t even know I could,” she whispered into her sister’s shoulder. “But we bonded, and then it happened, and I heard the heartbeat, Alex. I *heard* her.”

Alex pulled back with wet eyes. “*Her*?”

“She’s a girl,” Lena confirmed quietly, stepping closer.

Alex turned to her, stunned, and then *hugged her too*—all gentle, careful pressure, like she couldn’t believe it was real. “You’re okay?”

“I’m glowing,” Lena said dryly. “Apparently it’s a Kryptonian thing.”

“I—” Alex wiped her face. “I’m going to be an aunt again. Oh my God. Esme’s going to have a cousin. I’m going to spoil the absolute *hell* out of this baby.”

“You already do with Esme,” Kelly pointed out, smiling.

“And I will *double down.*”

Esme tugged on Kara’s sleeve. “Wait. The baby’s going to be part alien?”

Kara nodded. “Part Kryptonian. Like me.”

Esme grinned. “*Cool.*”

Then she threw her arms around Lena’s waist and whispered, “I’m gonna be the best big cousin ever.”

Lena ran a hand through her hair, eyes glistening. “I know you will, sweetheart.”

---

**Later, after dinner...**

Alex poured herself a glass of wine and leaned over the back of the couch to stare Kara down.

“So. Glowing wife. Star baby. Radiant aura. You *sure* you’re not already secretly married?”

Kara blushed. “It was a Kryptonian bonding. Not a legal marriage.”

“But you gave her the crest,” Alex countered.

Kara pouted. “Okay, yeah, so maybe it’s *spiritually married.*”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Next thing I know, you'll be naming constellations after your kid.”

Kara grinned. “*Already done.*”

Alex groaned. “I hate how cute you are.”

“You love it.”

“I do. But I hate it.”

And then, because Kara was still glowing—and Lena was curled on the couch beside her, hand over her still-flat belly, with Esme asleep in her lap and Kelly smiling across from them—Alex just looked at her sister for a long moment and whispered:

“You’re gonna be amazing at this.”

Kara smiled, teary. “I had the best example.”

Chapter 17: Mothers, Found and Given

Scene One: The Danvers House, Midday Sunlight*

The Danvers family kitchen still smelled like warm apples and cloves.

Lena sat at the table, nervously folding the napkin in her lap. Kara was beside her, trying (and failing) not to vibrate through the floor with excitement. Across from them, Eliza Danvers poured tea like she always did—calm, graceful, and emotionally twelve steps ahead of everyone else in the room.

Eliza slid the cup toward Lena, then sat down with her own and smiled.

“You’re both acting like you’ve been called to the principal’s office.”

Kara cleared her throat. “We have… some news.”

Eliza’s eyes crinkled. “Is it good news?”

Kara beamed. “The best.”

She looked at Lena, who nodded gently.

Kara reached for her hand and said it clearly, confidently:

**“Lena’s pregnant.”**

Eliza froze mid-sip.

Then slowly, carefully, she set her mug down—and her eyes *filled with tears.*

“Oh,” she whispered, hand to her heart. “Oh, Kara.”

Kara blinked. “You’re… not mad?”

“Mad?” Eliza exhaled a laugh. “Honey, I’ve been waiting for you two to admit you’re soulmates since you were twenty-four and dragged Lena into Thanksgiving with no explanation.”

Lena blushed. “That… was a chaotic year.”

Eliza stood, walked around the table, and pulled Lena into a hug so warm, so grounding, that Lena nearly lost her breath.

“You are family,” Eliza said firmly. “Have been for a long time. But now—now it’s official.”

Lena clung a little tighter.

“And the baby?” Eliza added, pulling back just slightly to cup Lena’s cheek. “You’re both safe?”

Kara nodded, voice thick. “She’s glowing, Eliza. Kryptonian glowing. My powers are syncing to her, and—and I can *hear* our daughter’s heartbeat. It’s real.”

Eliza turned to Kara and pulled her into a hug next. “Then I’m going to be the best grandma this world has ever seen.”

“Competition’s tough,” Kara teased, holding on tightly. “You’re up against an alien queen.”

Eliza arched a brow. “Then it’s war.”

---

Scene Two: The Fortress of Solitude, Later That Week*

The snow blew harsh outside the mountain, but inside, the Fortress stood silent and gleaming—like a cathedral carved from light.

Lena stepped into the memory chamber alone this time.

Her hand brushed the crystal Kara had shown her once—*the one that held Alura’s consciousness.*

It glowed to life in a soft hum.

And then the hologram of Alura Zor-El appeared, regal in shimmering robes, her face a perfect mirror of Kara’s calm strength.

“Lena Luthor,” Alura said, her voice warm. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Lena blinked. “You… have?”

“You carry the crest of El. You wear my daughter’s sigil over your heart. The Fortress recognizes you.”

Lena stepped forward slowly, stunned. “I didn’t… expect you to appear.”

“You’ve crossed a threshold few ever do,” Alura said, smiling. “You carry the *heir of El*.”

Lena’s breath caught. “You know?”

“I can feel it,” Alura said softly. “The bond you share with Kara sings through this crystal. She has chosen. *And you have returned that choice.*”

Lena’s eyes shimmered. “I love her more than anything.”

“I know,” Alura said gently. “And you have made her whole in a way Krypton’s sun never could.”

There was a pause.

Then Alura stepped closer.

“From this day forward, you are *of our House.* You are one of us.”

Lena swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

Alura looked toward the air as if watching stars through time.

“She will be strong,” she murmured. “Your daughter. Stronger than any born of El before her. Because she will carry both our legacy… *and your will.*”

Then Alura smiled again.

“Tell Kara I said she gets that from me.”

Chapter 18: She Will Have a Name

Rain tapped softly against the windows.

Kara lay on her side, propped on one elbow, watching Lena trace slow circles across her belly under the covers. The glow there was faint now—barely more than a halo—but Kara’s eyes never strayed from it.

“You’re staring again,” Lena whispered.

“I can’t help it,” Kara murmured. “You’re literally carrying starlight.”

Lena smiled, half-lidded. “You said that yesterday.”

“And I meant it then too.”

They fell into silence for a while. Peaceful. Heavy with love.

Then Kara spoke, tentative.

“Have you thought about names?”

Lena’s fingers stilled. “A little. You?”

Kara nodded. “There’s one I’ve always loved. It’s… old Kryptonian. From before the fall.”

She reached for her tablet and typed a word in the air. A soft hologram shimmered between them: **“Alurae.”**

Lena blinked. “After your mother?”

Kara smiled. “Kind of. But the original name means ‘protector of light.’ It was given to daughters who were expected to lead. To carry forward the best of their family.”

Lena traced the glowing letters with her fingertip.

“It’s beautiful.”

Kara looked down. “But I know you might want something that’s yours. A name from Earth. From your family.”

Lena hesitated.

Then: “I was thinking of something from my birth mother. Her name was Maeve. She died when I was very young. I barely remember her, but… I remember how she sang to me.”

Kara’s voice softened. “Lena…”

“I never got to carry her forward,” Lena whispered. “My name was overwritten by the Luthors. I want… our daughter to have both.”

Kara blinked fast, eyes shimmering.

“*Alurae Maeve El,*” she whispered.

Lena nodded. “Or Maeve Alurae Danvers-El. If we want to give her something of Earth and sky.”

Kara’s heart felt like it was being rewritten in real time.

“She’s going to be so loved,” she said thickly.

“She already is.”

Kara leaned in, kissed her gently. “She’ll carry both our legacies.”

“And none of our pain,” Lena whispered. “Only the light.”

They lay in the silence again, hands joined over the glow of Lena’s belly.

Then Kara added softly, “We’ll call her Mae, when she’s small.”

Lena smiled, eyes closed. “Mae. My little starlight.”

Kara rested her head there too, listening for the heartbeat that had changed everything.

Chapter 19: The First Kick (and the Forever Question)

It was late.

The kind of late where even the moon had slipped behind clouds. But Lena couldn’t sleep. She lay back in bed, one hand over her stomach, the other curled into Kara’s.

Kara was already dozing, her breathing steady and deep—until—

Lena gasped.

Kara snapped awake. “What—what is it? Is something wrong?”

Lena’s eyes were wide.

“No,” she whispered. “She kicked.”

Kara blinked. “Wait—*kicked*?”

Lena took Kara’s hand and placed it gently over the small curve of her belly. “There. Just… wait.”

And then—

**Thump.**

A tiny flutter, no stronger than a heartbeat, but Kara felt it like a *supernova.*

Her whole face cracked into something indescribable—something *blindingly happy.*

“Oh Rao,” Kara whispered, laughing and crying all at once. “She kicked. She *kicked.*”

Lena’s eyes filled. “She’s strong.”

“She’s *so* strong.”

Kara surged forward and kissed Lena, soft and overwhelmed. Then she pulled back and rested her forehead against Lena’s, breath catching.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” she whispered.

Lena smiled. “Me too.”

“No.” Kara looked suddenly… nervous. “I mean this exact moment.”

She sat up—and in a blink, she vanished into the closet.

Lena frowned. “Kara?”

A second later, Kara returned, flustered and glowing, holding something in her trembling hands. Small. A box.

Lena froze. “Kara.”

Kara knelt beside the bed, eyes bright and sure now.

“I was going to wait until after the baby. I wanted to give you time, and space, and let us soak in every part of this without more pressure. But… she kicked, and I just—*I can’t wait anymore.*”

She opened the box.

Inside:
A ring of gleaming platinum—a blend of Kryptonian solar alloy and Earth-forged titanium. The band curled into the shape of Lena’s initials in Kryptonese script, and at its center: a cut emerald cradled in a setting of soft glowing crystal Kara had formed herself.

A perfect blend of Earth and Krypton.
Lena and Kara.
Logic and light.

Kara’s voice trembled.

**“Lena Kieran Luthor… will you marry me?”**

Lena stared at the ring, then at Kara, then at her belly, where their daughter had just made her first mark on the world.

And she burst into tears.

“Yes,” she laughed through them. “Yes, Kara. *Of course I will.*”

Kara slipped the ring onto her finger, her own eyes wet. It fit like fate.

Lena pulled her in for a kiss that lasted forever—and then some.

---

**A few minutes later...**

“Come with me,” Kara whispered, lifting Lena carefully into her arms.

“Where are we going?” Lena asked, still dazed.

Kara smiled. “To show her the stars.”

And with a whoosh of wind and warmth, they were airborne—sailing up, up, past the clouds, past the noise, past everything.

They floated high above the Earth, surrounded by stars.

Lena, wrapped in Kara’s arms. The baby stirring in her belly.

“I want her to remember this,” Kara whispered.

“She’ll feel it,” Lena replied. “All this light.”

Kara turned her head slowly, voice soft.

“She’ll know she was loved before she was born. And that her moms chose each other, over and over, in every lifetime.”

Lena kissed her.

And below them, the Earth turned—slow, beautiful, and full of tomorrows.

Chapter 20: The Vow We Already Made

The engagement went public within a week.

Not because Kara posted it—she would’ve been happy hiding for a month—but because Alex accidentally shouted *“My sister’s getting married!”* in front of two reporters at a DEO briefing.

By the end of the day, Kara’s phone had exploded, their mailbox was full of handwritten congratulations from Argo, and *Cat Grant herself* sent a card with a handwritten note:

> “About time. Don’t screw it up. —C.G.”

---

Wedding Planning Chaos (Danvers Style)

There were binders.

Color-coded by Esme.

Alex swore she wasn’t going to interfere… and then sent them three different dress designers and a full ceremony flowchart. J’onn volunteered the Tower’s rooftop as a venue. Eliza cried when Kara asked her to walk her down the aisle. Kelly was in charge of music. And Lena?

Lena just sat back and let the chaos swirl—completely unbothered.

She was glowing more now. Radiantly pregnant. Calm. Serene.

Kara, on the other hand, had *six* Google Docs and was in a deep spiral about her vows.

---

Kara’s Vow Crisis

“I can’t do it,” Kara groaned, flopping onto their couch, buried under scraps of paper.

Lena looked up from her tablet, amused. “Can’t do what?”

“The vows! I—I write for a living and I *still* can’t find the right words!”

“Kara, you’ve written *three books* and a speech that made the UN cry.”

“This is *different!*” Kara said, wild-eyed. “This is *you!* How do I put you into a sentence? Or a paragraph? Or a vow?! You’re *Lena!*”

Lena set her tablet aside, stood, and walked over to her. She gently sat in Kara’s lap—her rounded belly pressing against her—and took her flailing hands in hers.

“You don’t have to put me into anything,” Lena said softly. “You already gave me your vow.”

Kara blinked. “What?”

Lena tilted her head, smiling.

“You remember what you said that night at the Fortress? *Zhal-von’el.* You told me I was your forever. You let the stars hear it. Kara, *you already made the real vow.* Everything else is just words.”

Kara’s eyes went soft. Then full.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Lena grinned. “That one works, too.”

Kara held her gently, pressing her forehead to Lena’s. “Okay. Maybe I can write something. As long as I can just look at you when I say it.”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

---

Later That Night…

Lena lay curled in bed, reading through fabric swatches Esme had picked (“no less than *four* shades of Kryptonian red, Aunt Lena”), and Kara sat beside her, scribbling on a notepad.

Lena looked over.

“What are you writing?”

Kara held the paper against her chest dramatically. “You’re not allowed to see until the wedding!”

“Is it cheesy?”

“Deeply.”

“Do you cry when you read it?”

“Only twice.”

Lena leaned in and kissed her temple. “Then it’s perfect.”

Kara takes Lena hands into hers and looked her in the eye " Your Perfect ".

Chapter 21: The Sky Says Yes

The Tower rooftop was transformed.

Hex-lanterns glowed softly overhead. Florals—native to both Earth and Argo—twined together around crystalline pillars. The aisle shimmered faintly with floating runes: part Lena’s magic, part Kara’s heat vision. Dozens of friends and family lined the seats. Eliza in the front row. J’onn standing tall beside Alex. Kelly holding Esme’s hand. The sky above them open and wide, painted gold by the setting sun.

This wasn’t just a wedding.

It was a binding of worlds.

---

The Ceremony Begins

Esme beamed as she walked first—**flower girl, stardust queen, and chaos in motion**. She wore tiny boots and a cape, and tossed glittering petals that shimmered with Kryptonian starlight.

Then Kara walked out.

Her dress was soft, flowing, cloud-white. Her cape was long, the *House of El crest* embroidered in subtle crystal thread near her heart. Her hair curled down her back like sunlight. She smiled nervously, impossibly radiant—and the moment she saw Lena appear from the far door, she nearly forgot how legs worked.

Because Lena Luthor?

She was a vision in emerald and gold, a gown woven with magic and Kryptonian silk Kara had given her. Her veil shimmered with protective glyphs. Her eyes locked onto Kara’s like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Alex had to gently nudge Kara to keep breathing.

---

The Vows

The officiant (a slightly weepy J’onn) nodded.

“Kara Zor-El… Lena Kieran Luthor… you’ve chosen to bind your lives. You may speak your vows.”

Kara stepped forward, hands shaking just slightly.

“I didn’t fall in love with you all at once,” she began, voice thick. “It happened in pieces. Every moment we stood beside each other, even when we were fighting. Especially then. You challenged me, terrified me, moved me—and showed me what it means to be known. I loved you before I knew what I was doing. And I will love you after the stars forget our names.”

Lena smiled, tears in her eyes.

Kara slipped the ring on her finger—again. This time in front of everyone.

“Zhal-von’el,” she whispered.

**“Forever mine.”**

Then Lena stepped forward.

And Kara expected science. Maybe wit. Some quiet brilliance that made the whole crowd fall in love with her a little too.

But Lena looked into Kara’s eyes… and began to speak in *perfect Kryptonian.*

> “Kara Zor-El… zi keh-le var’tai.”
> “You are my strength.”

> “Zi nor-rah, zi zah'lani, zi shei.”
> “My soul, my light, my home.”

> “Zi'sha eteh vah nar'sai.”
> “I choose you beyond fear.”

> “Zi'sha eteh vah shev'ra.”
> “I choose you beyond time.”

> “El zhal-von’el.”
> “Forever yours.”

Kara’s mouth dropped open.

The wind picked up just slightly, fluttering her cape.

The whole rooftop was silent.

And then Kara just… whispered:

**“Lena.”**

Lena smiled through a tear. “I’ve been practicing for weeks.”

Kara launched forward and kissed her—*glorious*, full-bodied, glowing—and for one heartbeat…

**her feet lifted off the ground.**

Just a little.

Lena rose with her, holding tight.

And the crowd erupted.

---

After

They didn’t have a reception. Not a big one. Just a quiet dinner under fairy lights with their family. Esme made a toast that ended with her crying into Alex’s lap. Kara kept sneaking glances at Lena like she couldn’t believe she was allowed to keep her. Lena rested one hand over her belly the whole time, like a quiet promise that everything beautiful was.

Chapter 22: Nights and Mornings With You

The Wedding Night*

The door clicked shut behind them.

The Fortress bedroom was quiet—lit by soft golden glowcrystals and the reflection of distant stars through the dome ceiling above. Outside, snow whispered against crystal. Inside, warmth built like breath.

Kara stood frozen, still in her gown, just… staring.

“You’re married,” Lena whispered, stepping close.

Kara smiled, dazed. “To *you.* I married *you.*”

Lena reached for her hands, warm and trembling. “Say it again.”

Kara leaned in, her voice low. “My wife.”

And that was it. The word set something loose in them both.

Kara kissed her like she’d been waiting since Rao first lit the stars. Slowly, reverently, hands cradling Lena like she was the holiest thing to ever exist. Lena melted into her touch—sure, steady, open.

They undressed each other in soft stages, giggling when zippers got stuck, sighing when fabric fell away.

Lena's bare skin still shimmered faintly with that Kryptonian glow.

Kara laid a hand over her stomach. “I love you,” she whispered, kissing it. “And I love you,” she added softly, to the little one inside.

And when Kara laid Lena back on the bed, it wasn’t rushed or ravenous. It was slow. Deep. Intentional.

Like Kara was memorizing her again.
Like Lena was learning her for the hundredth time.

Between the kisses, there was laughter. Between the sighs, there were promises.
And when Lena arched into Kara’s touch, her voice shook as she whispered:
**“Zhal-von’el.”**
Forever yours.

---

*The Morning After*

Kara woke up first.

Sunlight streamed through the crystal dome above, hitting Lena’s hair and making it glow. She lay curled on her side, ring still on her finger, lips parted just slightly, face relaxed in a way only Kara ever got to see.

And her belly—still small—was nestled in Kara’s arm.

Kara smiled. And leaned in.

“Good morning, little starlight,” she whispered against the bump. “It’s me again. Your mom. Well, *one* of your moms. The really glowy one.”

Lena groaned. “Stop giving her a personality before she has a name.”

“She *does* have a name. Mae.”

“That’s still pending final approval,” Lena mumbled into the pillow.

Kara grinned. “Mae, if you can hear me, kick twice if you agree I should pick your name.”

Lena snorted. “If she kicks, it’s because you’re vibrating.”

“You think she’s going to have powers?”

Lena cracked one eye open. “She has *our* DNA. So yes. Probably sparkles and science and flight and sass.”

“She’s going to rule the galaxy.”

“She’s going to need diapers.”

Kara laughed and kissed her softly. “Hi, wife.”

“Hi, wife.”

Kara whispered against her belly again. “Mommy Lena’s pretending to be grumpy, but she loves us.”

Lena rolled onto her back, hand over her eyes. “Do I have to legally ban you from talking to my uterus?”

Kara smiled. “You’d miss it.”

“…Yeah. I would.”

They lay in the warmth, tangled together, the future pressing soft and bright against them from all sides.

Chapter 23

Summary:

Let’s time-jump a little and give you *glimpses over the months*—snapshots of their growing life. Aka
(*Snapshots from the Months of Pregnant Lena*)

Month 3 – The Craving Incident*

“Kara.”

Kara poked her head into the kitchen, half in costume. “Yeah, love?”

Lena stood at the fridge, wide-eyed, hair messy, still in her robe. She pointed.

“I need strawberries.”

“We have strawberries.”

“I need *space strawberries.*”

Kara blinked. “Babe, the ones from Argo take four days to ship and are considered a Class 2 delicacy.”

“I’m growing your legacy,” Lena deadpanned. “I think that entitles me to interplanetary fruit.”

Kara was gone in a *whoosh.*
Back in under 30 minutes.
With five baskets.

Lena cried over them. And then ate half with whipped cream and zero shame.

---

Month 4 – The “Glow Up” Scare*

“Why is the bed glowing?” Alex asked casually.

“It’s not the bed,” Kara muttered. “It’s Lena.”

Lena was asleep, snoring gently, wrapped like a burrito in Kara’s cape. And yes, the entire mattress now shimmered with warm gold light pulsing in time with her heartbeat.

Kara sighed. “Apparently the more in sync we get, the more her body starts… emitting.”

“She’s pregnant with a literal demigod, Kara. What did you think was going to happen?”

Kara looked sheepish. “I thought maybe like… warm feet. Not bio-luminescent nesting.”

---

Month 5 – The Interview*

“Mrs. Luthor-El, how are you feeling today?”

Lena stared directly into the CatCo camera. “Hungry. Emotional. And currently experiencing backaches that could break steel.”

Kara, off camera, mimed *cut it off now* panic.

Lena smiled sweetly. “Also, if anyone sends me another ‘baby’s the size of a papaya’ text, I will invent a teleportation spell specifically to hex your phone.”

The clip went viral within an hour.

#QueenLena trended for three days.

---

Month 6 – Nesting… With Laser Eyes*

Kara walked into the nursery to find Lena standing on a ladder, wand in one hand, crib floating three inches off the floor, books alphabetizing themselves in midair.

“Babe?”

Lena didn’t turn. “I *must* finish the symmetry charm before she arrives. And the moon mural needs recalibrating.”

Kara hovered beside her, nervous. “You haven’t slept in 20 hours.”

Lena blinked slowly. “I am nesting.”

“You’re summoning eldritch geometry.”

“…and *nesting.*”

Kara flew up, wrapped her arms around her from behind, and levitated them gently to the bed.

Lena passed out mid-protest. Crib still floating.

---

Month 7 – The First Belly Laugh*

“Tell me again,” Lena whispered, eyes damp.

Kara smiled, kneeling beside the bath where Lena rested in glowing water.

“I love you. I love her. And I will never let either of you go.”

“She just kicked when you said that.”

Kara beamed.

“And she hiccupped when you said *her.*”

They both laughed.

The glow around Lena pulsed bright for a second—like the baby was laughing too.

---

Month 8 – Late-Night Chaos*

3:27 A.M.
Lena: “Kara.”
Kara: “Yes!”
Lena: “I dropped the pickle in the peanut butter jar and I *still want to eat it.*”

Kara flew in with six spoons, a new jar, and the expression of someone absolutely not judging.

Lena: “You’re the best wife.”

Kara: “I am terrified and thrilled by your cravings.”

Lena: “Love me anyway?”

Kara: “Forever.”

---

Month 9 – The Belly Kiss Moment*

Kara lay curled around Lena on the couch, one hand over her belly, whispering stories in Kryptonian.

Lena, sleepy, mumbled, “Do you think she hears you?”

Kara kissed the curve of her belly. “I think she listens to every word.”

“She’s going to be brilliant.”

“She already is.”

They stayed like that for an hour.
Kara whispering.
Lena glowing.
And somewhere in the middle of the warmth a tiny kick.

Chapter 24: My Water Just Broke

Summary:

The baby is coming and kara forgot her pants

4:08 A.M. – Peace Before the Storm

It started like any other early morning.

Kara was asleep, curled around Lena like a heat lamp. One arm around her belly, one hand tangled with Lena’s under her chin.

Lena had been awake for twenty minutes, quietly counting contractions and sipping water with her wand floating it to her hand every few minutes.

She finally whispered, “Kara?”

Kara stirred immediately, eyes blinking open. “Mmh?”

“I think my water just broke.”

A beat of silence.

Then Kara sat *bolt upright* like someone fired a gun into the sky.

“WHAT?!”

---

4:09 A.M. – Supergirl Panic Mode

Kara was *gone* in a blur.

*Whoosh!* to the closet.
*Crash!* into the baby bag.
*Bam!* into the dresser.

She reappeared holding:

* Three swaddles
* One onesie labeled “Superbaby”
* A glowing Kryptonian birthing charm
* A protein bar
* Lena’s spellbook
* Two mismatched socks
* And *zero pants*

Lena blinked. “Kara, are you… not wearing pants?”

Kara looked down, then yelped. “I—PANTS! RIGHT! Pants are essential!”

Lena winced as another contraction hit. “Okay. Yes. Let’s *focus* now.”

Kara zoomed back wearing jeans, boots, and a medical alert necklace that read **“Partner of Glowing Magical Woman—KEEP CALM.”** (Esme’s idea.)

“I’ve called Eliza, I’ve pinged the Tower, I’ve texted Alex *in all caps*, and I may have just scared two owls outside the window.”

Lena calmly picked up her wand. “We’re fine.”

“We’re *not* fine! Your *water broke!* That means you’re in *labor!*”

“And you’re vibrating through the floor.”

Kara froze. “Sorry.”

Lena reached up, grabbed Kara’s shirt, and pulled her close. “We’re okay.”

“You’re *in labor,* Lena.”

“Yes, and I’d like to do it in our birthing suite, *not the kitchen*, so help me *up*, Zor-El.”

Kara very gently, very nervously scooped her up and flew them to the Fortress birthing chamber, trying not to hyperventilate while repeating to herself:

> “I’m a superhero. I’ve fought gods. I can do this. I am strong. I am *calm.*”

Lena: “You’re talking out loud again.”

Kara: “I am *mildly calm.*”

---

4:44 A.M. – The Magic & The Light

The birthing suite was warm, shielded by magic and solar energy. Kara had laid everything out just the way Lena had enchanted: rune-lit crystal panels, soft music, protective glyphs, a nest of warmth and moonlight.

Lena was deep in focused breathing now, floating slightly above the bed in a low magical hover.

“Okay,” Kara said, kneeling beside her, holding her hand tight. “You’ve got this. You’re powerful. You’re glowing. You’re *terrifyingly beautiful* and *very dilated.*”

Lena laughed, then gasped through a contraction. “I love you. But if you don’t stop describing my cervix, I’m launching you into the sun.”

“Copy that.”

Kara held her through every wave, rubbing her back when it hurt, kissing her brow between contractions, whispering in Kryptonian when Lena needed grounding.

And when Lena’s magic surged into the room—gold light curling like stardust into the ceiling, mixing with the Fortress glow—Kara held her and whispered:

**“She’s almost here.”**

And Lena smiled through tears.

---

6:12 A.M. – Starlight Born

One final push.

One final burst of magic and breath and power.

And then—

**She was here.**

Red cheeks. Star-blessed skin. A soft glow behind her eyes that hadn’t opened yet.

Kara caught her—laughing, crying, gasping—and gently passed her into Lena’s arms.

“She’s so small,” Lena whispered.

“She’s perfect,” Kara choked out. “*She’s ours.*”

Their daughter let out a tiny cry. And then *hiccuped*—a shimmer of light puffing from her lips.

Lena blinked. “Did she just… emit a sunbeam?”

Kara sob-laughed. “Oh Rao. We’re in so much trouble.”

Chapter 25: Her Name Is

Summary:

Bit if a short chapter

6:30 A.M. – The Glow After

The birthing chamber was still.

The protective glyphs had dimmed. The solar flares outside the Fortress calmed to a flicker. Snow drifted gently past the crystal walls like soft white feathers.

Lena lay back against the elevated nest of warmth Kara had built—her head resting on a star-silk pillow, her body glowing faintly gold with afterbirth magic. She looked tired. Radiantly so. Like a woman who had just split the sky open to make room for something more.

In her arms, their daughter had finally fallen asleep.

Wrapped in the soft blue of Kara’s old baby cape, she slept with her tiny fists tucked under her chin. Every few seconds, she hiccuped light.

Kara knelt beside them, still in her jeans and a shirt that now read **“SUPER MOM.”** (Alex’s idea. Probably ironic.)

She brushed a curl of damp hair from Lena’s forehead.
“You did it,” she whispered.

Lena blinked slowly. “*We* did.”

---

The Lullaby

Kara swallowed, her voice soft.

“There’s… a song my mother used to sing,” she said. “When I was little, before Krypton fell.”

Lena turned her head, eyes half-lidded. “Will you sing it for her?”

Kara hesitated.

Then looked at their daughter.

And began.

The words were Kryptonian—smooth, slow, reverent. Her voice was low, a soft alto, and it wrapped around the room like a memory, ancient and gentle.

> *“Shaal’lae, kal’ve shai…*
> *In the stars, you rise and lie.*
> *House of El, heart of dawn,*
> *Little sun, carry on.”*

Lena closed her eyes. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

Kara kept singing.

> *“Child of two, born of more,*
> *Heir of stars and Earthly shore.*
> *May your light burn bold and true…*
> *As we walk the world with you.”*

By the time she finished, Lena was crying quietly.

Kara leaned in, kissed her temple.

“I didn’t think I’d remember all the words,” she whispered.

“You didn’t forget *a single one,*” Lena murmured. “Of course you didn’t.”

---

Naming Her

They sat like that for a while—mother, mother, and daughter.

Then Lena opened her eyes, looked down at the tiny face tucked into her arms.

“I think she deserves her name now.”

Kara straightened. “You’re sure?”

Lena nodded, voice steady. “We waited long enough.”

Kara smiled, heart full.

And together, in unison, they whispered:

> **“Maeve Alura Danvers-El.”**

Lena pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead. “Mae,” she whispered.

Kara touched her tiny hand. “Little starlight.”

Mae stirred gently in her sleep.

And smiled.

Chapter 26: Meet The Family

Late Morning – The Arrival

The Fortress welcomed them with a gentle pulse of light as Kara opened the gateway. She hovered by the entrance, cape fluttering, heart racing.

Inside, Lena rocked Mae in a crystal cradle made of softened starsteel and lullaby spells. Kara glanced back at her and grinned, nerves lighting up her whole body.

The first voice came before they even crossed the threshold:

**“WHERE IS SHE?!”**

Alex, of course.

She stumbled in first, clutching a very large basket of something that looked like both snacks and tactical gear.

“I come bearing supplies, emotional support, and probably five types of illegal baby-proofing tools.”

Kelly followed behind her, elegant and smiling, carrying Esme—who was wearing a cape.

“I’m ready!” Esme whispered urgently as they floated into the main chamber. “Is she tiny? Is she magic? Is she glowing?”

All three stopped the moment they saw Lena.

Or more accurately, what Lena held.

---

The First Meeting

Lena turned, still seated, holding Maeve to her chest.

And Esme gasped so hard her hands flew to her mouth.

“She’s *real!*”

Alex blinked fast. “Okay. Yep. No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”
(Tears already.)

Kelly leaned over her shoulder, smiling. “Hi there, Mae. I’m your Auntie Kelly.”

Esme crept forward reverently. “And I’m your cousin big sister. I have a cape and a bedtime sword. I’m gonna protect you forever.”

Lena smiled, handing Mae carefully to Kara—who passed her off to Alex like she was the most precious gemstone in existence.

Alex looked down, already crying.

“You’re so small,” she whispered. “And you’ve got the world’s most chaotic family already.”

---

Baby Gifts and Teasing

Kelly had brought a soft, hand-knit blanket made of a blend of Earth cotton and Kryptonian fiber. "For her to sleep in both worlds," she said quietly.

Alex, still crying, pulled out a tiny red-and-blue onesie with an *S* on the chest.

"Too early?" she asked Kara.

Kara grinned. “Way too early.”

Lena: “No such thing.”

Esme gave Mae a drawing: stick-figure versions of the whole family, with baby Mae drawn as a glowing star.

Kara choked up.

And then, of course, Alex turned to Kara with a raised brow.

“So… when’s the wedding? Oh wait. *Already happened.* Guess the next stop is baby #2?”

Kara: *sputtering noises*

Lena, very calm: “Give me six months.”

---

That Afternoon – Eliza Arrives

Eliza Danvers walked into the Fortress with slow steps and quiet hands. The moment she saw Kara, her face softened with a thousand emotions.

And then she saw the baby.

“Oh,” she whispered, covering her mouth. “She’s real.”

Kara led her over gently. “Mom… meet Mae.”

Eliza sat beside Lena, who placed Mae into her arms.

She held the baby like she was something holy.

“She looks like you,” she told Kara. “But she has Lena’s eyes. Sharp. Knowing.”

She began to hum something—soft and old.

Kara leaned in, wide-eyed. “That’s the lullaby from Argo. How do you know that?”

Eliza smiled. “You used to hum it in your sleep, after you landed. You must have remembered it from your mother.”

Lena reached for Kara’s hand.

And Kara cried, just a little.

Eliza kissed Mae’s forehead.
“Welcome to the family, little one,” she whispered.
“You are more than hope now. You’re the proof of it.”

Chapter 27: First Night Home

Coming Home

Mae slept the whole ride.

Curled against Kara’s chest in a baby sling reinforced with light Kryptonian shielding and *very* soft fleece (courtesy of Kelly), she made tiny sighs every few minutes—dreaming, maybe, or just announcing her presence softly to the world.

Lena rode beside her in the transport shuttle, her head resting on Kara’s shoulder. She’d barely slept since the birth, but the kind of exhaustion in her eyes wasn’t heavy—it was full. Full of wonder. Full of *her.*

When the front door of their apartment clicked open, it felt like a line had been crossed in time.

There was a crib in the corner now.

A stack of books about raising superpowered children.
A shelf already half-full of little gifts from family.
And two moms who couldn’t believe they’d just *brought their daughter home.*

---

Attempt #1: Swaddling with Magic

“I’ve read five books,” Lena whispered. “And enchanted the blanket. This should be foolproof.”

Kara hovered beside her, eyes wide. “You sure the spell’s stable?”

“Yes, I tested it on a stuffed bear. Twice.”

Lena flicked her wand gently.

The blanket floated up, twisted gracefully, and—

**—wrapped itself completely around Mae’s head.**

Mae let out a high-pitched squawk.

Kara gasped. “Abort! Abort the blanket!”

Lena cursed in Latin. “That was *not* what it was supposed to—hold still—don’t cry, I swear I’m a competent adult—”

Kara carefully untangled her, holding Mae to her chest. “Okay, okay, maybe we stick to *manual wrapping* for now.”

“*Earth swaddling* is so inefficient,” Lena muttered.

Kara: “Earth babies don’t like being burritoed by sentient fabrics, apparently.”

Mae: *(hiccups sparkles)*

---

Attempt #2: Lullaby vs. Rocking

Later, Kara rocked Mae gently in the chair, singing low in Kryptonian.

Lena sat nearby, legs tucked under her, sipping tea, watching like she couldn’t believe this was real.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this soft,” Lena whispered.

Kara glanced over, smiling. “She just… she’s so little, Lena.”

“She’s *perfect.*”

They both looked down at her.

Mae made a face, stretched like a cat, and—

**sneezed.**

A tiny flash of gold light puffed from her nose.

Kara let out an audible gasp. “She sneezed sparkles. She—*Lena, she sneezed sparkles.*”

“I saw,” Lena said gently.

Kara was crying again. “She’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Lena stood, kissed Kara’s temple. “She’s ours.”

---

Midnight

The lights were low.

The living room littered with used wipes, burp cloths, and one emergency bottle Lena had conjured because the first one mysteriously *vanished* mid-heat.

Mae was finally asleep—on Kara’s chest, her tiny hand curled in the fabric of her shirt.

Lena joined her on the couch, curling under Kara’s arm, head resting near Mae.

“You know,” Lena said sleepily, “this is going to get harder before it gets easier.”

“I know.”

“There will be sleepless nights. So much crying. Learning curves we haven’t even imagined yet.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not going to get everything right. Not always.”

Kara kissed her softly. “Me neither.”

“But…” Lena glanced at their daughter. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Kara smiled. “Yeah. We always do.”

---

They drifted off like that.
A little family, in the half-mess, wrapped in light.

And the baby?
She glowed quietly in her sleep.

Just like hope.

Chapter 28: Years Of Light

Summary:

Years later—when the chaos has matured into comfort, the love has only deepened, and Mae has grown into a force of nature wrapped in sunshine and sass.

You’re about to see Mae Danvers-El at five years old, and what kind of family Kara and Lena have become: soft, chaotic, anchored in love, built with laughter, magic, and stardust.

Notes:

This is the lats chapter of the fic. I just wanted to say thank you for all the support and love. This was my first multi chapter fic and supercorp Fanfic hope you guys enjoyed reading as much as I enjoy writing it thanks again.
Hugs and kisses

Five Years Later

The apartment was the same. And entirely different.

The walls now held crayon portraits beside framed photographs. Floating toys drifted past runes of containment. Books stacked themselves when no one was looking. A Kryptonian mobile spun above the kitchen table, chirping softly every time someone walked by.

In the middle of it all—

**Mae Danvers-El.**
Five years old.
Cape slightly askew.
Hair full of glitter.
Hovering four inches off the ground.

“Kara,” Lena called from the hallway, not looking up from her spellpad, “your daughter is levitating again.”

“She says she’s *testing gravity,*” Kara replied, flipping pancakes with heat vision while balancing a juice cup on her shoulder.

“I am!” Mae shouted proudly. “I’m conducting a SCIENTIFIC EXPERIMENT! For science and justice and snack time!”

“You sound like both of us and I am both proud and deeply afraid,” Lena muttered.

---

Mae the Mini Hybrid

At five, Mae could:

* Read Kryptonian and Latin
* Levitate up to six feet (when excited)
* Shapeshift *just* her eyebrows (we don’t talk about it)
* Create magical sparks when singing
* And talk *nonstop* when nervous

She was equal parts sass, sparkle, and super-speed.

And she was *completely* hers.

---

Breakfast with the Chaos Squad

Kara set plates down.

“Mae, pancakes. Lena, coffee. Planet Earth, you’re welcome.”

Lena kissed her cheek. “You’re still not allowed to call yourself ‘Supreme Waffle Master.’”

“You married me knowing that was part of the deal.”

Mae floated into her seat. “Did you two kiss *before* or *after* Mommy Lena told you to stop being weird?”

Kara blinked. “Uh—yes?”

Lena, sipping coffee: “Definitely *after.*”

Mae kicked her feet under the table, then leaned her cheek against the warm syrupy plate like it was the most peaceful place in the universe.

“I like mornings,” she murmured.

Kara looked over at Lena.
And saw the same expression on her face.

---

Afternoon Mayhem – Powers Incoming

Later, Mae was in the living room, wearing her “training tiara” (a paper crown with tiny protection runes) while attempting to phase through the coffee table.

“Kara, she’s glitching again!” Lena called.

“She’s *phasing!* That’s a good thing!”

“She just went *through* the couch and stole my apple.”

Mae reappeared holding the fruit triumphantly.

“I AM INVISIBLE JUSTICE!”

Kara looked at Lena. “You were right. She’s going to take over the world.”

Lena: “You’re saying that like you’re not *encouraging it.*”

Kara winked. “A little chaos keeps things fun.”

Mae: “I HEARD THAT.”

---

Evening – Family Ritual

Every night, before bed, Mae stood on the balcony with Kara and Lena.

Kara would point out constellations in Kryptonian. Lena would float tiny magical sparks around her like fireflies.

And Mae—tucked between them in her soft “House of El” hoodie—would ask questions like:

“Did stars always exist?”
“Did Mommy Lena build the moon?”
“Do you think love is stronger than gravity?”

And they would answer, every time.
With honesty.
With softness.
With awe.

Because *she was their answer.*

To every question they never dared speak aloud.
To every moment they thought they might never reach.
To every piece of legacy they'd once lost and now passed on.

---

Bedtime

Later that night, Kara carried Mae to bed.

Lena was already there, fluffing pillows, wand floating beside her. Mae was half-asleep in Kara’s arms, mumbling something about stars and waffles and science.

Kara tucked her in, kissed her forehead.
Lena adjusted the moonlight charm above the bed.
And Mae, through a sleepy yawn, whispered:

“Are you gonna love me tomorrow too?”

Kara and Lena both leaned down at the same time.

Kara whispered: “We’ll love you forever.”
Lena whispered: “And a little longer than that.”

Mae smiled in her sleep, mumbling " me to "

 

this is where we leave them:

In a home full of light and magic.
With laughter on the walls, stars in the ceiling, and love in every breath.

Kara and Lena—no longer searching, no longer falling, but home.

And Mae?
A little spark of tomorrow, wrapped in everything they ever dreamed of.

Notes:

And you never know I can always revisit this fic 😝