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pleasantwizardphilosopher · 3 years ago

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Just you and me

So, I finally gathered the courage to write something and went for a SuperCorp fanfic, because clearly I am supercorp trash. I haven’t decided whether to post it in AO3 or not but if I do I’ll let you know. English is not my first language so if you get any mistakes or some parts lack cohesion please let me know and I’ll try to fix it. This fic goes by the idea that Kara is a very good scientist, she deserves that much, Lena’s background is canon-like. There are no dialogs, only feelings and senses, hope you like it.

*********

Finding yourself stuck in time is hard, at least that’s what most people would feel like under such circumstances, but not for Lena, not right now, where every single piece of “normalcy” her life had is just beginning to crumble, like a piece of sun-dried bread, or the way eggshells crack after someone steps on them, painfully, noisily, in a million pieces, most of all and beyond everything, they shatter unrecognizably and irreparably. Maybe the cold that such pain leaves behind is what led her to run, maybe it was the sudden fear and tiredness that was left in her, like cold steel in her bones, maybe it was the emptiness that started consuming every truth she thought she knew. It did not matter, she fled, running as fast as she could in those 7-inch Louboutins. She never looked back, not even after her flight landed in National City, not even after setting foot for the first time in her new penthouse in the middle of the city. She never regretted it, at first it was rough, sure, like every bumpy road is, yet, after the first glance she ever took at that blonde hair that day in the park, all doubts were erased off her mind.

*********

It was the end of August, the chilly air that announced a cold winter ahead blew her hair, ruffling it in her face; filling the streets, waking scattered orange and brown-ish leaves that had fallen from nearby trees, whistling on its way through the now almost-bare branches. The wind left behind the soft aroma of wet dirt, freshly baked bread and upcoming rain, heartwarmingly, filling her lungs easily with every breath, puffing visible clouds when exhaling. It was certainly nostalgic, the kind that makes you feel warm and cozy and at the same time makes your eyes prickle with unshed tears. Kara felt that pull, as usual, for everything good her life has had, and everything it had taken from her. She stood on the sidewalk, towards National’s City Central Park, glancing around her, taking in her surroundings when her gaze landed on a particular someone, dragged to her as if her eyes were mere pieces of steel and that woman were a huge neodymium magnet; She found herself staring at a sight she’ll always remember, because at that moment, when she first saw her, she felt a different kind of pull at her heart, the kind that screamed “caution!”, but in the good way, hopefully.

Long before she knew her name, what made her laugh, what made fer fidget with her fingers nervously, but above all, long before she had met that woman with dark long silky hair, forest-green eyes and pearly skin. Long before that gorgeous human being, with such power emanating from her, yet such caring, hopeful eyes, crossed her path, long before she made her feel like flying without actually leaving the ground, mostly, who she would grow to love, maybe, maybe she was fantasizing too much, who could blame her, it surely was a sight to remember.

*********

When the double doors slide open, she’s expecting a no-nonsense, powerful, cold-blooded, cocky-demeanor CEO, what she’s definitely not expecting is for such CEO to be almost precisely all that shaped and carefully placed in a stunning, raven-haired woman, whose green eyes could pierce through your soul and would probably make you spill your darkest and deepest secrets, those that also hide so much fear, making her want to walk over there and pour all her support into a hug. Kara swallows. Nevertheless, there is also something else to this woman’s aura, her posture is perfect, clearly carved into her from a very young age, and her smile is polite but stiff, almost practiced, and still, Kara can feel kindness emanating from her, true deep kindness and care. Something brings her to the present again, her breath hitches, those beautiful eyes are staring intently into hers with curiosity and a hint of amusement. The woman in front of her has managed to steal her breath twice now, which is not something she, the founder and co-owner of a start-up company. Harvard graduate and Kryptonian, finds happening often, she has faced great threats, from grumpy bankers to out-of-space threats as Supergirl, yet, Lena Luthor has managed to make her heartbeat go erratic with a simple gaze.

The soft scent of an expensive perfume fills the office, something akin cinnamon, vanilla and a little scotch (?). It is dizzying and a little distracting. She somehow manages to go through her proposal for the CEO without stumbling too much and, fortunately, without rambling. Lena seems fascinated by the proposal and agrees to the terms without major modifications to the contract. After both signing, they shake hands, and maybe, just maybe, they linger a little more than needed, both enraptured by the softness of the other’s hand. Lena pulls away first, fingers tingling, feeling the tips of her fingers warm and a lingering scent of something floral, it is electrifying, like a low current cursing through her veins, making her get goosebumps all over her arms, but she doesn’t mind, as her attention is captured by those ocean blue eyes that seemingly hold the weight of the world. She certainly is nowhere close to getting tired of them.

*********

When they signed this partnership, they did not expect it to turn this way, at least Kara didn't, or so she muses while sitting on the ledge of her rooftop. She truly just meant to get funding and maybe get to work a little up-close with the brilliant, certified genius of a woman. Sure, she is gorgeous and incredibly sharp-minded, as proven by so many magazines’ articles having bothered to analyze both qualities deeply and thoroughly; but after that first sight of her, with such strength and determination to her pose, with each powerful step, with every sway of her hips, albeit hiding so much hurt, sadness, and a great burden, brought to her by her last name; a burden that Kara has somehow come know so well, such need to be understood, because, the truth was, that no one had ever lived through loss the way they did. One lost her world, her culture and way of life, but found love and compassion, whereas Lena was denied both from a very short age, living a life without love, compassion, and affection, in a household where the outside cold wouldn’t enter, as the inside was icier.

The cold nighty wind startles her, it brings to her mind memories of bight smiles, so hard that certain dimples showed, laughs so hard that some wine would be spat on a very white leader couch, sunny days filled with an assortment of foods and a wonderful voice, filling every corner of the room with its melody and a slight accent, becoming more evident when emotion takes a rightful place in her voice, one that comes from a very pale yet very compassionate woman. She has to tell her, it's been just over a year since they first met, but she knows it is time, with them growing closer, she has to tell her she is Supergirl. And yeah, she definitely did NOT expect things to turn this way. (Maybe she kinda did).

**********

When she asked Kara if she understood the quantum mechanics behind the surface plasmon resonance their platinum nanoparticles showed, she wanted to be shaken, mad even, because why wouldn't she, the to-be youngest member of the Science Guild on Krypton? Of course, they didn't have the same metals as they did on Earth, but they understood the physics behind the phenomena. Okay, Lena did do not know her identity, yet, hopefully, but she did have a Bachelor in Mechatronic Engineering and a Master Degree in Advanced Materials, she definitely may have crossed paths with the concept. But hell, how can she be mad when those bright, summer-trees green eyes look at her with such glint of excitement, with a twinkling sparkle or curiosity? Those eyes that were looking at her with a look you give someone you know gets you, beyond understanding your words, those who truly get a grasp of your language, of who you are, what makes you shake with the excitement of a new discovery, a greater challenge. It was then that Kara knew that she could read Lena the way no one had ever done for her, she could grasp what she needed in every moment, what she was thinking, but she also got her sciency stuff, the theoretical jargon, upcoming theories, the physics behind phenomena and she shared her love for technology that could make humans' lives better, longer, healthier. They shared, compassion, vision, passion and... Kara was now almost certain, love.

At least she thinks so, what else could those stolen glances be? She looks up, just to find those forest-green eyes glinting with determination and concentration while those agile slender fingers handle tools and twinkle their way around the solar panel’s circuitry. She is so enraptured by her skills that she mistakenly adds way too much platinum sulfide to the solution, turning it suddenly black and bringing her out of her stupor as the contents boil, violently spilling all over the place, filling the air with a slight scent of iron, evaporated water and burnt plastic. Green eyes break contact with the panel to look towards where strong hands work frantically to turn off the hot plate she was working on, dropping her tools she reaches a hand to help Kara, concerned green eyes looking for any kind of burn injury or spill that may need to be taken care of. After making sure everything is (mostly) okay and that it was just a failed reaction, Kara is suddenly aware of a soft hand pulling her away from the table, vanilla and cinnamon fill the air around her, like a soft embrace, that turns real when Lena pulls her into her arms, a soft bubble surrounding Kara, making her a little giddy and peaceful at the same time. Flowers, fresh-cut flowers is what Lena smells, while she hugs Kara tightly, it is normal to get worried for your best friend after a lab incident, no matter how small, she tells herself, and while it maybe is, it is definitely not normal the way her heart felt like stopping the moment she saw the hot contents of the Erlenmeyer flask spill all over the place, fearing for Kara, feeling it creep up her spine and settle like cold ice on her stomach and lungs, making it hard to breathe.

When strong arms surround her and pull her in tighter, she realizes she has started shaking and hyperventilating, embarrassed she hides her face in the crook of Kara’s neck, and everything fades outside this moment. It is just them, vanilla, and flowers, Kara murmuring sweet nothings into Lena’s ear, hearing her heartbeat even out, and her breathing become normal; and Lena trusting that this person, whose arms seem to be able to lift a bus, whose laugh makes her heart warm and fuzzy, whose smile lights her world and makes her feel safe, cared for and understood; will never let her fall. And perhaps she is right.

**********

Yup, it is definitely love. What else could it be? That snowy January, between hot cocoa and soft muffins, she knew. She is hovering outside her lab, on the outskirts of town, where it was less likely that someone caught her both personas; peeking through the windows, she sees her, Lena is coding the interface that would allow them to take the most efficiency and durability out of the technology they had designed, the mechanical and chemical part was almost done already. She is typing, eyes narrowed in concentration behind thick rimmed glasses, the tip of her tongue poking from a corner of her mouth. And Kara knows, she wants to caress those hands when they were trembling from the winter cold, but also kiss them after a long day working with her computer, she wants to rub her feet after a day filled with meetings and kiss her every time her brilliant mind comes up with a solution for an impossible problem. But above all that, she wants to hold her and whisper into her ear comforting and loving words when she has a nightmare regarding Lex, she knows it’s a common occurrence. She wants to see her crumble knowing that Kara would always hold her and support her, kissing her lovingly every time her insecurities get the best of her. She wants her to feel safe, protected and loved in a way she always deserved but never got.

She sighs, this is it and she knows it, there is not moving forward without coming clean about Supergirl, because, staring at Lena, she knows there is no going back either, looking the way her agile fingers dance around the keyboard as if she were writing a letter to a friend instead of a state-of-the-art software to power and control their recently developed solar panels. She thinks of how beautiful of a soul Lena is, she has such a big heart, she has a huge weight on her shoulders for being a Luthor, a burden which Kara would love to lift from her since it is not hers to carry, it shouldn’t be. Furthermore, she cares so much for the world and the people in it, even for the ones that are not human, unlike her family she is truly kind and compassionate.

Here goes nothing. Kara flies through the lab floor-to-ceiling windows towards the desk where Lena is working, placing beside her the paper bag containing hot cocoa and muffins for her. Due to the cold, the soft warm homey smell soon starts filling the room. Lena looks up smiling, expecting to find Kara behind the treats, but instead, bright green eyes lock with glassy baby blue eyes, trembling lips and fingers fidgeting. Lena stands. She is instantly shaking, whatever it is that could possibly turn the unyielding hero into a crying mess must be of great concern. She steadies herself by grabbing the edge of the table to keep her knees from buckling, knuckles turn white. Green never leaves blue. And just when she is about to ask the hero what brings her here, a strong hand comes to the small of her back to steady her and keep her upright. She has never been this close to Supergirl and at that moment when every sound seems to shut and the air stills, she knows.

She knows why those sky-blue eyes always inspired her such calm and confidence, why she always felt safe in those arms that could bend steel as butter. Because in that moment, when the warmth emanating from that hand starts filtering through her clothes, warming her, her senses are also filled with a smell of flowers, mixed with chocolate and bread, and a hint of mint; when a single tear escapes those ocean blue eyes, she crumbles. She crumbles under that gaze filled with pain and sorrow, filled with such regret that she could feel it creeping through herself, nestling in every corner of her body, making her feel slump and heavy. She also sees intelligence, compassion and strength, qualities she has come to be very familiar with under a blue setting. And so, she grabs the hero’s suit in her fist and buries her face in her chest, a single heart-wreaking cry filling the air. Kara shatters then, knowing how much pain this is causing to a soul that has been betrayed over and over again, who has been abused and pushed to her limits. She knows she is picking an open wound with a stick, and she hates herself for it, for using the same trust Lena gave her against her. They slide to the floor, never letting go of each other, tears falling freely through both their cheeks. Lena breaks into heartbreaking sobs and Kara holds her tighter, as if trying to keep her from falling into pieces, from breaking apart, rocking them both back and forth softly. Lena just cries, screaming from time to time, gripping the fabric so tightly that if it were regular fabric, it would be tearing down by now, but it isn’t, just as the woman holding her, the woman she most certainly is NOT in love with, is not a regular human. They stay there, holding onto each other, never breaking eye contact, the hot cocoa and muffins long forgotten.

**********

She really isn’t mad. She isn’t. So maybe she has been slightly avoiding Kara, but she isn’t mad. Despite her first-instance outburst of emotions, she realized she really isn’t angry at Kara from keeping the Supergirl thing a secret from her, yes, she was deeply hurt and upset but she understands the reasoning behind it, albeit she wishes Kara had told her earlier in their relationship it also makes perfect sense for her to hide it until making sure their relationship was well-founded and strong.

She is quite lost though, there is a small hint of emptiness inside her chest from that day which smelled like chocolate and bread, at first Lena thought she might actually and finally be broken, her heart having taken so many hits already. But the pain eventually faded, and that emptiness never left, on the contrary, it became more present, so much that she was now almost used to it. Like a lingering rock in the bottom of her stomach, or a ball of cotton in her throat, constant, bearable but persistent. And now, as the snow starts melting outside her office she wonders why. She knows why though; she just likes to pretend like she can fool herself.

The morning sun is hitting her office’s windows, warmer than it has been for the past few months and as the first drops of melted snow start to fall from the rooftop to her balcony, the pretense falls to pieces, and she falls along with it. She fumbles with her balcony door and stumbles outside, not even bothering to grab her coat, as soon as she steps outside, she is hit with cold, humid air and slippery floors. Taking huge gasps of cold air to fill lungs that seemingly do not want to be filled.

Maybe this is all she needed, standing on her balcony and glancing at the city, the morning sun casting a bright yellow light over her face, warming her skin softly, while her side in the shadows gets colder every passing second. It is enough, hot and cold, day and night, light and darkness, she always wondered to which side of the scale she tipped the most, she used to believe she was all shadows, a Luthor, and Kara was light, all goodness, she smiles at the irony, a Super. However, while she is taking in the city, calm and almost quiet since it is so early, bright light hitting the buildings and cold, contrasting shadows hiding smaller streets, cars, and people, she gets it. Kara was never all light, and will never be, she has on her shoulders an unbearable pain that will never go away and with her powers come hard choices that no one should ever have to make. And she, she is not darkness, she is both, and she can choose which side to feed, and she wants to choose light, just not any light, one that is personified by blonde hair and ocean-deep blue eyes that she could, and does, get lost into. Maybe, she can bring a certain light to Kara as well, maybe they both deserve it, they deserve each other. Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding she turned on her heels towards her office and out of it, directly to a certain warehouse on the outskirts of town. The balcony door left open, melted snow glowing gold from the morning sun, dripping into Lena’s office.

**********

Disappointment is that what she feels, no, sadness, for sure, she knew things could go sideways with the whole reveal show and yet, the clench in her heart won’t go away easily, and she knows she absolutely has no right to feel that way, she made that choice, just as she has made every other choice before it. She is tempering with her suit, waiting for her cell culture to finish growing so she can properly test their absorption properties. Soft pop music plays in the background, filling the warehouse with soft notes with a cheesy vibe, the mid-morning sun streams from the windows, lighting the space with an orange-ish golden glow. She finishes her upgrades with a tired huff, never one to hate working on something she surprises herself with such reaction. Groaning with frustration that has nothing to do with her projects and a lot to do with a certain pale powerful, wonderful, CEO.

She walks towards the windows, letting herself bask in the mid-morning light, feeling her powers recharge and her body start buzzing with energy. She clenches her fists, as the warmth caress of the sun on her skin makes her heart ache, missing another entirely different kind of warmth. She leans against a wall and lets her body slide to the ground, bringing her knees to her chest, she closes her eyes, letting herself get lost in the feeling of the sun kissing her skin, softly, almost hesitantly, she can almost picture a certain brunette, softly stroking her cheek, a sweet lovingly caress. A single tear rolls down her cheek from her closed eyes, knowing that such caresses may never be from her, a faith written by her own hand, resulting from her choices, as hard as it is. Letting her straining superhearing and expanding its reach she hears the hustle and bustle from downtown a few kilometers away, she hears the honks of the cars and the heavy panting from people running late for their work, such mundane thing that she may never truly get to live and experience. As her hearing expands, she finds herself focusing in a very well-known heartbeat, one she can distinguish above the sea of heartbeats that flood the city; it is beating absurdly fast, and her first reaction is to focus on her surroundings to find out whether she is in danger or not.

She hears heavy puffs of air, heels clicking steadily and determinately on the pavement, closer with every step, and is she running? Her breath hitches when realization dawns on her, she IS running, towards her. While her mind screams for her to move, to do something, her body is frozen, unresponsive, breath caught in her throat, she absolutely does not understand what is happening and doesn’t know what to expect from the woman that is now reaching her. Before she can dwell on it further, a feminine soft hand with slender cold fingers is touching her knee softly. She is panting from the effort, her breath smells like back coffee and mint, hitting Kara’s face warmly, making her head spin; a slight scent of grounded coffee beams mixed with Lena’s favorite scotch emanates from her clothes, she smells strangely like home; her red lipstick matching her flushed cheeks from running, and Kara cannot help but let her jaw fall open in awe at the sight.

She grabs Lena’s wrists softly and stands up bringing her along. Kara finally gathers her courage and looks at her eyes. She feels like sinking under her gaze, not out of fear, it’s nothing but love and warmth what she sees in those jade-green eyes, feelings she doesn’t feel worthy of, specially not when coming from the Irish goddess. Just when she’s about to close her eyes again, uncapable of keeping her gaze, Lena hooks a finger under her chin and makes her raise her eyes up to hers again. Insecure, scared-like blue puppy eyes find soft-looking bright emerald eyes. It’s understanding what she sees now in those deep green eyes, the same ones that seem capable of reading her like an open book. She lets out a sob, and Lena lets go of her chin, going to grab her hand, bringing it to her lips and kissing her palm tenderly.

The breeze brings to Kara’s nose the scent of Lena’s shampoo, smells like rainy days and autumn leaves, and, as usual, no words are needed when Kara moves her hand from Lena’s lips to cup her cheeks, bringing her other hand up. And, what else can she do other than lean forward? So, she does, she leans forward and kisses her forehead, its soft, tender, like a butterflies’ kiss, just barely brushing her skin, trying to convey her love for her beautiful Genius™ mind, for her brilliance, stubbornness and compassionate selfless soul. She then brushes her lips softly on both her eyelids, trying to convey all the love and regret she feels regarding the way she did Supergirl secret-related things. She parts slowly and watches as Lena opens her eyes fluttering open slowly, bringing her hands up to grab the wrists of the Kara’s hands that are still cupping her face, thumbs softly stroking the inside of the kryptonian’s wrists, she lets out a shaky breath, blue eyes looking at her so lovingly tenderly, with such determination and strength, unyielding as sapphires, she feels no questioning in her heart, this is where she is meant to be, she turns into a mushy puddle and lets herself be drawn into the Girl of Steel.

Kara leans forward and kisses her nose, giggling quietly, Lena simply melts into it feeling a soft warm breath that smells like chocolate and honey, suddenly, the emptiness in her chest melts like ice cream on a hot summer day, leaving nothing but love and warmth, like the one from a fireplace on Christmas Eve. She lets out a shuddering breath, relieved. They lock eyes again, and finally all those unspoken questions find an answer. They lean forward at the same time, their lips meeting in the middle, fitting perfectly against each other. It is warm, tender, loving, and everything it should be, the way every cheesy romantic comedy says it’s like. They pour all their love into that moment, lips moving against each other, chocolate-honey and black coffee.

When they finally part, it’s like breathing for the first time, lungs grasping for oxygen, freshly cut grass, concrete and sun-provided warmth, and it is perfect. Like taking a breath after holding it underwater for a long time, except you never truly knew what breathing was like, until that life-altering breath. They breathe in sync, foreheads touching, Kara’s hands go down to wrap around Lena’s waist, pulling her closer, Lena rests her head softly on Kara’s chest, nuzzling into her neck and closing her eyes, letting herself fall into that fierce love, like an all-consuming fire, she’s been too afraid to open herself to, to be vulnerable. They stay there, enjoying each other’s embrace, the hustle and bustle of the city blind to a beautifully blooming love.

**********

Kara is very clumsy, it does help her keep up her façade, albeit it is also a personal trait of hers. And right now, as she trips on nothing, while standing nonetheless, she makes it extremely evident. Forest green eyes look at her amused from the other side of the door. How does Lena expect Kara not to fall face first to the ground when she is dressed looking like THAT. Wearing a deep red drees that falls softly just below her knees, strapless, leaving her back and cleavage on display, her hair up in a neat bun and her signature 7-inch black heels, Kara definitely stopped breathing, not that she needs to anyway. She stands up awkwardly, taking the dust off her khaki pants and dark blue blazer. Lena cannot hide a smirk after pulling such reaction from no other than Supergirl.

The CEO pulls Kara into her apartment, it smells like vanilla and apples, probably resulting from the many scented candles that Lena likes to light around her apartment. The only light comes from said candles and several Christmas-like light strings that are hanging from the ceiling, giving the place a warm cozy glow. Kara smiles lazily as she leans down to kiss Lena, catching a glimpse of bright emerald eyes melting glimmery before falling shut. She smiles into the kiss. She pulls apart slightly and kisses the tip of Lena’s nose, the raven-haired woman lets out a soft chuckle. Kara grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers, and leads her to the door. Today it’s dinner date day, they are celebrating the successful launch of their joint solar panels project, the best performance ever achieved thanks to a certain Kryptonian’s platinum oxide nanoparticles; and 10 months of full-on dating. As Kara closes the door of Lena’s apartment behind them, the warm smell of the candles fills the hallway and follows them into the elevator, a fluffy plush blanket, a protective mantle surrounding them.

**********

drip…drip… the constant crash of raindrops against the windows surrounding them, rain pouring heavily around them, drowning the usually loud noises of the city’s rush hour, washing away the strong smell of smog. They are tucked under a bus station stop, at least Lena is, Kara is already dripping, since she stubbornly stood outside the small protection the roof offers so Lena and other humas could take cover, she doesn’t get sick anyway. Lena is shivering, although it has been a remarkably hot summer, today was quite a cloudy day and it rained for the most part, resulting in a temperature drop of several degrees. The brunette leans into Kara seeking for her abnormally high body temperature to warm herself up, but the Girl of Steel has other plans, since she cannot fly Lena to their apartment, she might as well take the best out of the situation.

Just as Lena is dropping her full body weight into her, she slides away, pulling Lena’s hand with her, directly into the downpour. Lena gasps when the first heavy drops of the cold water hit her, feeling her clothes get soaked almost instantly, she feels the raindrops roll down her skin and further dampening her clothes, the smell of the rain fully hits her now and when she lifts her eyes from where they were looking at the floor not to trip, she sees Kara smiling her signature megawatt smile at her, completely soaked and intertwining their fingers playfully, so Lena smiles, smiles so hard her dimples show. She lets herself be dragged by Kara, running under the rain, feeling the cold sweeping into her bones, and feeling more whole and filled with happiness than she has in a very long time, if ever.

Kara jumps over a puddle with all the grace of a gazelle, letting go of the CEO’s hand, such displays of her true nature still wonder Lena, just when she is about to make the jump herself, Kara stops and abruptly turns towards her. The world stops. Or maybe she is the one that freezes, the only thing she can hear is the rain pouring heavily around them, and her heart beating erratically in her chest, ringing in her ears, the smell of rain mixes with Kara’s floral perfume, she is getting closer now. The brunette starts shaking, and it has nothing to do with the cold water still running down her body. Kara stands in front of her, soaking wet, dirt all over her jeans from playing in the rain, her hair falls in wet dirty blonde strands around her face, her eyes as baby blue as always are dim because of the raindrops that coat her glasses, and in her soaking hands she’s holding an astonishingly made silver ring, two intertwined silver strings hold one small bright emerald in the middle, the inside of one of the string, in almost unreadably tiny letters reads “You are my hero”. The simplicity of the stone in contrast with the intricate design of the ring.

Lena forgets how to breathe, but Kara understands, so she just waits there, with the most loving smile ever seen stamped on her face. When Lena’s out of body experience ends, she simply nods enthusiastically. And so, the world starts spinning again, the honks of the cars return, engines roaring and muffled conversations, all muted by the rain, washing over them as reality sinks in, they are choosing each other, even when the world has tried to pull them apart repeatedly, furthermore, against each other, for them, none of it matters, just them, here and now, kissing for the first time in hopefully many years to come. Lena lets her hands drape loosely around Kara’s neck, feeling the grounding weight of the ring on her left ring finger, hot against her cold skin, the same way Kara’s hands, which hold her together.

#supergirl #supercorp #fanfic #karlena #kryptonian #i wrote this on a whim #please give me feedback #this is my first fic #be kind

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isoscele · 3 years ago

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Lumberjanes Week Day 1 - First Day of Summer

(This is longer, weirder, and later than I wanted it to be, but isn’t that the spirit of the week?)

--------- Jo’s last exam is electrical engineering, and she finishes twenty minutes early. Dr. Quispe winks at her as she turns it in, and Jo tries to smile. The constant fog of formulae and diagrams dissipates from her head, replaced by a more all-consuming calculation.

One hour, six minutes to go.

She drops by her room, picks up the single backpack sitting on the bare mattress. On her way out, Gabi pops out of the lounge. “All done?”

Jo’s smile softens, takes on something real. “Yup. You?”

“I still have an essay, but I’ll probably do it at home. Got any big summer plans?”

“Kind of.” She shifts her backpack higher on her shoulders, silently debating how much to say. “I’m going camping with some friends.”

“Oh, cool,” Gabi says. “I wouldn’t’ve pegged you as an outdoorsy type, Jo.”

“Oh, you know.” Something under her skin humming, some outdated circuitry splitting into life. Forty-nine minutes. “In certain circumstances.”

Gabi giggles. As is the case with every one of their sporadic interactions, Jo wonders if they’re flirting. “Have fun! Don’t get eaten by a bear!”

She swans back toward her laptop and empty M&M packet. If she’d looked back for just a moment, she might have wondered what she had said to make Jo look so devastated.

---------

Mal has a pickup truck. It’s disgusting, with a windshield wiper that sounds like a dying macaw and a clutch that, for two heart-stopping seconds at the beginning of each gear shift, refuses to move at all. Mal has always defended it with a vigor previously only saved for her best friends and favorite bands.

Jo slides into the passenger seat. The radio is blasting heavy metal and the interior smells shockingly of mayonnaise; she has to blink hard to hold back her tears. There are some things that are so beautiful, so precious that it’s impossible to look at them head-on. Jo always forgets, when she’s away.

“You’re in the bus lane,” she tells Mal.

Mal obligingly starts the very long process of getting her car to move. “I thought the idea behind going to fancy science school with adults was that bus lanes were no longer necessary. Also, it’s fucking amazing to see you.”

“The buses shuttle students around campus. Also, I’m delighted that you’re here and I want to give you a hug.”

“Motion passed,” Mal says, and they squeeze awkwardly over the two melted Frosties in the cupholders.

The car jolts into first gear hard enough to throw Jo into the seatbelt, and then suddenly she’s laughing so hard she has to hold her sides to keep herself from spilling over.

“Sorry!” Mal says, “sorry, she’s jumpy around strangers,” which is what she says every summer. It’s a terrible joke laced with an irrefutable affection, and it’s so Mal that it makes Jo laugh even harder.

“We’re not strangers,” Jo says. She pats the center console, feels a little of the polyester flake off on her hand. “Me and this truck go way back.”

“Well, let’s hope you and this truck go way forward, too,” Mal says, “because I’m really not sure the engine’s going to last us to California.”

---------

They pull into the trailhead at around six the next morning, and make silent work of the luggage in the back. The sun’s just starting to come up, blinking warily between the table pines. Mal waves her on, and Jo sets off along the winding path.

The first year or two, they mostly stuck to campgrounds and RV parks, warming hot chocolate on the camp stove despite persistent, obnoxious heat. Jo didn’t think much of it at the time, but now she knows that Molly was trying not to inconvenience them, trying to keep them to the shallows of the forests. Trying to keep anyone from going too far, getting too stuck.

The fact that they were instructed to bring backpacking gear this year doesn’t do much to assuage the constant thread of worry in the back of her mind. This isn’t something they can dip their toes in anymore; the world is always a more dire place than they left it last summer.

The hike is long and treacherous. They go off the trail almost immediately, but neither of them need a map. It sounds cliche to say that they’re following something else, but they are. The anxious chitter of the birds and the sun balking at the edges of the trees and the distant hush of a river form a clear topography in their minds. They walk without discussion, taking each turn as naturally as if they had always lived here.

Around mile seven, they start to hear voices. Mal breaks into a run, and Jo comes crashing after her.

They knock straight into April, who catches both of them with practiced ease. For a moment, the air splits with three different calls of incomprehensible joy, and then they’re lowering themselves to the moss as a single, complex organism.

“Holy Felicia Flames, you guys look great!” April hollers.

“I have so much to tell you,” Mal says.

“Are you trying to set the forest on fire?” Jo asks, wandering over to where April has piled an impressive set of branches and old newspaper. She must have packed most of it in herself; the trees around here don’t look like that.

“Might make our job easier,” April says, and then a grim silence falls over the clearing.

I’m going camping with some friends, Jo had said, as if it was just camping, as if they were just friends. As if Jo’s relationship with these people, the things they had to do together, could be described in such a mundane and immaterial way. As if Jo won’t sit at the fire with them tonight, watching the way the sparks clear the shadows around their eyes, and love them with everything she has in her. As if she won’t hate them, too, for making her come here.

Here they are, in the annual half-second when they don’t know what to say to each other. The moment when the summer teeters, still soft and blameless, on the edge of something sharper.

But then April asks Mal how the band’s doing, and the moment passes.

“I wish I’d thought to bring pictures,” Mal says. “We played at this amazing venue last January--there was this skylight, and it was pouring rain, and people just kept coming in because it was so miserable outside.”

“Aw, that’s great,” April says. “I’d love to come someday, but y’all sell out so fast!”

Mal scratches the back of her neck, looking embarrassed. “Yeah, sometimes.”

“What are we talking about?” Ripley half-shouts. Jo yelps, and then that turns into more laughter, which turns into an incredible group hug. For someone who carries no fewer than three kazoos on her person at all times, Ripley can be surprisingly stealthy when she wants to. Jo never hears her approaching anymore; first, there’s nothing, and then there’s Ripley.

April hugs Ripley so hard she lifts her off the ground. Ripley immediately starts listing all the weird birds she’s seen this year and asking April to cross-reference them with her encyclopedia of creatures.

And then, of course, there are four.

Jo drifts half a step closer to Mal and extends her hand. Without tearing her gaze from the blot of trees, Mal takes it.

Last year, Molly had been sort of--sick. They’d been camping on a bauld where eagles circled high overhead and the flowers were all this terrible saffron yellow, bent under the shadow of the rocks. Molly had walked with a stick, like the Bear Woman--like Nellie used to use, thick and gnarled. But she said that was temporary, just because of a bad fall, and no one talked about how her freckles had almost overtaken the white of her hands, how her eyes were spotted with yellow and seemed to constantly rove towards the sky.

No one had mentioned much of anything, because the year before that they had buried Nellie in the soft earth beside the lake and they had all tacitly agreed not to talk about it. Maybe that’s what growing up is like--finding more and more things that no one is willing to say. Holding a grief in you that sometimes feels so bright and all-consuming that it can’t possibly be real.

“She’ll be okay,” Jo says, quiet so as not to kill April and Ripley’s buzz. “The forest loves her.”

But that’s a cold comfort, because they have all spent the same six summers learning that the forest’s love can be the most terrifying force in the world.

---------

It doesn’t take long at all before a familiar sound comes rolling in from the mountain. It’s a sound like dinosaurs, like goliaths, like the world collapsing in on itself.

It’s a sound that heralds the approach of Bubbles, who these days is about the size of a house.

I don’t know! Molly had said, laughing, the first time they had seen him again. I guess he was just a baby when we met him. I’ve been feeding him a lot of peanut butter lately, maybe that’s it.

Bubbles crashes through the trees, chittering so loud that it sounds like the laughter of a god. On his back, perched awkwardly against the scruff of his neck, sits Molly.

She does look okay. Their home hasn’t killed her yet.

There’s a little more white in her hair, a little more curl to her fingernails. But she’s smiling so wide it’s almost like they’re just here to catch up, like just for today they can afford to be a group of friends and nothing else.

Later, of course, will come the campfire, and the birds falling silent, and even the cicadas forgetting to cry, and they will map out another fraction of the world. They’ll find another dozen stone men, sleeping still enough to be dead. They’ll find perhaps hundreds of potential apocalypses, and they’ll spend the month eating little and sleeping less, preventing the end of the world again and again and again until they can’t even remember what they’re saving.

But right now, Molly slides down Bubbles’ side and yells “Guys!” and the summer bursts into being.

#lumberjanes week #lumberjanes #my writing #sorry about the weird formatting this website is a genuinely terrible place to publish writing

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stevenuniversetanzanite · 5 years ago

Text

Fallen Angel (Venable X reader) Part 4

So, I went back and read the past instalments of this series and oh my I enjoyed it. I swear I enjoy my Venable stories the most out of any of mine ever. Also realised I left out details that I need to include in my sequel and some I need to add to this one so... I fixed the minor problems and might have fixed another. I mean no one is analysing this but I like to have details correct. The only issues I saw was that I mentioned in part one was the character used to wear glasses so I have to add that to the sequel and that I said that the character was an inch shorter than Michael (in my head Michael’s about 5′10) but I forgot to mention like in the sequel the character wears four inch platformed boots (similar to the ones that all the cool goths wear) I added that in to this part but it might be forced. Oh well.

I hope this chapter isn’t two jumpy.

Prequel Link: The Angel Among Us (Cordelia x reader) Plot: The event’s leading up to Y/N joining Michael and the Cooperative.

Summary/idea: Two strangers come to ‘save’ the occupants of outpost 3. Neither are what they seem.

Warnings: N/A

Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5 (Will add as I go)

“When was the last time you took a break? Had some fun?” You splayed yourself out on the chair in front of her desk, one of your legs flung over the armrest. The fabric of your skirt flowed perfectly down the gap between your legs. The material outlining where your frame ends giving Venable a rough idea of your body's frame while unfortunately still being clothed. Her eyes stared at you with an unquenchable level of thirst. She cursed you for wearing that long skirt.

“I have fun-”

“I bet you do.” You rose from your chair, your skirt elegantly falling back into place without the need of adjustment. You prowled closer, eyes drifting around the room, refusing to give Venable the attention she deserved. “Torturing the residence.” Your hand swept against the surface of Venable’s desk. “I had to stop myself from laughing when I heard about your little ‘incident’ with Stu.” You turned to her, smirking. “So clever, I would never have thought of something like that.” You were so close to her; she was forced to look up at you. She didn’t feel the urge to stand or push her chair back, that would show weakness (and standing wouldn’t help since you were taller) but not only that, she didn’t want to. “But have you ever thought about your wants? Needs? Desires?”

“What are-” Your close proximity froze her in place as if your coldness had spread to her. She memorised all your details, the alluring smile that tugged her closer to your presence without having to move. She found your temptress ways magnetic.

“Come on V,” you purred. You elegantly found your place on her lap. When had you gotten there? Her hands were clenched tight around the armrests of her desk chair in an attempt to ground herself. Her mind was in heaven, but her body remained on earth.

“-It’s Ms Venable to you.” She stuttered. You chuckled, it was deeper than your normal, forced high pitch voice. This was natural. You were yourself? Must be an act, Venable would have thought if she hadn’t already fallen for it. You leant against the edge of her desk, peering down at her.

“Are you sure about that?” She couldn’t speak so she nodded. You chuckled. “Alright, Ms Venable. Is there anything I can do for you?” Your hand found its way to the waist of her skirt, pulling it away from her body to only to play with the fabric.

“Y-Yes, you can-”

BANG. BANG. BANG.

FOR FUCK’S SAKE.

Venable’s eyes flew open. She huffed before easing herself out of bed. The knocking continued, Venable yelled out that she heard the first time. Who dare disturb her slumber? Mead stood at the door; the woman apologised before informing her of two purples breaking the copulation rule. Those two purples were going to pay for interrupting her dream.

She found the two in the chamber they use to clean the exposed and execute the ill-behaved. The two purples, Timothy and Emily stood their ground, confronted Venable about her made-up rules. She pulled Mead to the side and requested for her to make it as painful for the pair as possible. Mead happily agreed. Venable exited heading back to her bedroom to relieve some stress.

Disturbed once that night was enough. Twice that night when trying to make up from the tension build for the first time was ridiculous. She didn’t expect to find a shot Mead expelling white fluid from her wound nor the damaged circuitry. The woman wasn’t even human. Her closest resident/worker was a robot, that’s got to be some cosmic joke. She’d spent a large amount of years working for those dim-whits at Kineros Robotics but for god’s sake she has HR not a robot scientist.

She did the best job she could, “I think there’s a damaged cable and I can’t tell what it’s connected to-” she sighed. Weren’t you working on the generator, you’d have to have some experience in order to do that right, or at least have a better clue than her? “Stay here, I’m going to get some help.”

You weren’t in your room, Michael’s office or her own. She checked your secret getaway. The lights in the main room were already on. She closed the door behind her before calling your name. She didn’t gain a response forcing her to continue the game of hide and seek.

She found you in the generator room tinkering with the machine. You had stripped down to your undergarments to avoid getting oil on your clothes. Venable’s eyes widened, her cheeks tinting to a shade of red as she didn’t expect you to be lacking clothing.

“You work in the nude?” You jumped at the sound of her voice. “You’re barely covered, you might as well not wear the additional fabric. It hides your best features.”

“If I knew you were stopping by, I would have worn less.” You wipe your hands on a rag. You thought about what she said, “Wait- how do you know they’re my best features if you haven’t seen them?”

“You could always prove me wrong.”

You smirked. “That’s not why you're here.”

“I need your assistance and not in that way.” Unfortunately.

“Can I go like this?”

“And risk someone else seeing you like that? Get dressed, I’ll fill you in on your task on the way.” Once dressed, Venable walked you to her room, filling you in on the night's events. “I thought you’d ask more questions.”

“It’s not surprising.”

The damage wasn’t too bad, nothing that could be fixed by soldering the metal together. Venable observed the whole process. You checked in with Mead as you worked as she was sentient and most likely felt pain. You extracted the bullet placing it into an empty candle holder. You hid that of view as you fused the broken cable. When the bullet was seen again it was a mouldable putty constancy that you covered and blended over the entrance wound to stop anything from getting inside. The only problem was you couldn’t cover up the patch she was shot, a silver ‘wound’ would remain.

“If you experience any problems” you said to Mead. “-or you notice any problems,” that to Venable. “Notify me immediately.” You pick up your gear and back them away. “Night Ms Mead, Ms Venable.” You exited before Venable could say goodnight back. You called her Ms Venable, that’s odd. As much as the woman would have loved to join you back in your secret getaway, she had to stay and catch up with Mead.

You hadn't been spotted wandering about in two days causing Venable to grow nervous. She scoured every corner of the fallout shelter three times before she found you curled up on your bed in the least amount of clothes you could wear in winter. You hadn't bothered to climb under the covers, nor undo your hair from the style it was done up in. Your clothes tossed to the floor; an outfit she hadn't seen you wear before. She was unsure where you obtained your clothing but put it down to you having put it aside until you came here.

Venable ventured closer to your bed, moving as silently as she could with her cane. She stilled when she reached the closer side to the door (saving her the unnecessary effort of walking further than needed). Your back was fully exposed to her, the faint markings of a white tattoo gone wrong, resembling more of a removal of a piece than a work done itself. It left your skin with a scarred embossing in the shape of wings.

She reached out to run her fingers over the scarification. Were the markings an attempt of beauty gone wrong? Intentional? Or a memory of a time you’d tried to forget? She was surprised she hadn’t noticed it when she last saw you lacking coverage. She hadn’t had long to take in your physical body before you noticed her presence.

You stirred causing the red head to stiffen. Her gaze darted to you; afraid she’d awoken you. You mentioned you’d spend your days in your now shared secret location. You avoided answering how often you spend your days there. This could have been one of the potentially rare times you slept and she dared to disturbed you.

“Hmm~” You wiggled under her touch, moving into the warm hand. “It’s too early,” you mumbled in a soft but childlike voice. “Five more minutes.” Venable chuckled a deep, throaty laugh at your response. You felt over your body trying to find the woman’s hand. Once you wrapped your hand around hers you smiled sweetly.

“I missed your presence.” What did she just say?

“I haven’t been anywhere Dee.” Venable pulled away from your touch. ‘Dee?’ No that couldn’t be right. She must have misheard. She a hundred percent said ‘V’. Who would ‘Dee’ be anyway? “Baby?” You weren’t talking about her. No one called her baby.

“Dinner’s in an hour, if you aren’t dressed and there in an hour, I’ll send a grey to drag you there.” You tensed up, your mind realising your mistake. You spun around to stare at the outpost leader with a look of pure horror. She refused to acknowledge you as she left your room shutting the door behind her. You cursed under your breath.

The woman held herself together as she ventured down the corridor. She passed a few greys and two of the purples on her way to her quarters. Coco and Gallant knew something was up when they passed her, and she didn’t make a snarky comment.

For a moment you gave her hope, that someone was capable of showing interest in her. She was wrong. Tricked into having feelings for someone then- no, don’t think about it Wilhemina. She crumbled on her bed, allowing her emotions to get the better of her.

You got changed putting on a black blouse with ruffled sleeves and collar. The collar had a dark purple and red brooch in the centre appearing like a choker over top of your clothing. Paired with the same long black skirt and shoes. You felt ridiculous, not understanding Venable’s' thing for Victorian clothing (or a slightly modernised version of it).

You made an effort to show up to the dinner 15 minutes early. Five minutes you were expected to have taken you place at the table; Ms Mead requested a word. You moved off to the side, to ensure you had complete privacy.

“Ms Venable will not be attending dinner this evening.”

“...Okay~ Why does this concern me?”

“You're the highest ranked member present, you’ll take her place this evening.”

“What about Mickey?” He wasn’t there but you assumed he’d be considered the highest in rank in the outpost and have the rule offered to him.

“I was given explicit instructions from Ms Venable that you were to take her place in the unlikely chance she couldn’t attend.”

“Alright~” This had to be something to do with earlier. That’s why she wasn’t here. “I’ll be at the head of the table. Uh~ Can you tell the greys to place her dish aside? I’ll see it gets to her later- personally.” Mead nodded before leaving you to command the purples into a night of wonder. How hard could this be?

“Where’s Venable?”

“Are you our new outpost leader?”

“Are you here to announce who got in?” God, this was going to be a long night.

Venable couldn't wallow in her own self-pity all night. You showed her a room you used to escape, maybe she could use it two. You were bound to search for her, she'd only be delaying the inevitable.

Once there, she didn't know what to do with herself. She recalled what you’d said to her, “I’m not telling you what to do...it may be good for blackmail or getting to know your residents, guests or workers. Again, it’s down to you.” The cursor on the search button, who to search up? Start with someone simple… boring, to test the waters. Jumping to the guests would be too risky, Venable thought. It was your machine so she could search you up and who knows what Michael knows about this room. A resident would be fine, but who?

She typed in Coco’s full name into the search bar and pressed enter. She was easy enough to find, she had an Instagram page with 5k followers, not as much of an influencer as she claimed to be. The further she scrolled the more she sees the woman’s desperate attempt to become famous. The earliest photos from late 2018. She turned to the book you’d told her about to see if there was anything interesting in it when she caught a glance at the monitor to her right. She noticed the option to log in bold lettering. She doubted she’d find anything interesting, maybe a deleted photo where she thought she looked back or didn’t get a lot of likes. She clicked on it, the computer automatically filling in the details for her. You must have done some programming since then.

Venable now had access to all her deleted and archived photos. The left monitor gave her all the details to Coco’s account, especially when it was created, 2012 which means there are six years of photos missing. Venable scrolled through all the photos again, the occasional new photo with less likes than the rest.

She reached the photos from 2018. Things got more interesting. The whole layout of her. There were photos of her and a group of young women who all appeared to be having a fun time. Unlike the others these women were stereotypically beautiful, they were normal, everyday people, something her page lacked prior. She was curious as to why Coco suddenly changed her entire page. She recognised the grey the girl ordered around. In this photo they were pals. She kept scrolling down, slightly more interested than before.

She stopped on one with the caption, Hands down the best teachers ever. A group of women posed for a photo, the younger ones (including Mallory and Coco) from before messing around. There were multiple photos in that post, but it was the first that caught her eye. To the left of the women mucking around was two women, an older blonde woman and- you? Your arms loosely wrapped around the significantly shorter woman, holding her close to your person.

Your voice popped into her head and that out of place question with it, ‘Have you ever been in love?’ You had asked when you’d been brooding. ‘You aren’t missing out on much... I thought I was in love once. I wasn’t myself... We had a falling out. Conflicting morals.’

So, there she was, the ‘love’.

‘...-and Coco's assistant Mallory- I know all about her...I'm sure it was pure coincidence that Coco's family were on vacation at the time of the apocalypse and not some external sources doing.’

You knew them and you never mentioned it to her. You must have had a falling out with the lot of them- you mentioned moral differences, was Michael that? Or was it simply a parting of ways? None of them acted like they knew you; they couldn’t have forgotten you if what Coco’s caption stated, were one of the best teachers, how do you forget the best? There was more at work than you were letting on and she’d get to the bottom of it.

You were stunning as usual. You were a natural beauty even in the layers of clothing you drowned in. Golden wire framed glasses that perfectly framed your e/c eyes and made your face more adorable. From the height you were compared to Coco, Venable assumed you wore your staple platform boots that you’ve worn religiously since your first day. You’d told her that the only reason you hadn’t warned them was that day was because walking on rocky ground in four-inch platforms and spraining your ankle wasn’t the best introduction. Venable detested that you were naturally taller than her and then still decided to wear those ridiculous shoes. She guessed the world wouldn’t be able to handle you if you were short, it might explode from you being too cute. Venable chuckled, blushing as she thought about you. Wait-she’d meant to be angry, upset. She couldn’t be upset at you. She blamed that blonde who infected your mind.

The blonde you had your arms around looked familiar. Was she active in the public? Venable took a screen clipping of the woman before running it through the computer's search engine. An interview popped up along with a collection of articles about a school of witches in New Orleans. The blonde lady you were more than comfortable around was the head of the coven, the supreme as she called herself. Venable knew she wouldn’t like this woman. She was gorgeous and if she was as powerful as she claimed, she could understand why you would like her.

Meanwhile at the dinner, you had to listen to the purples complain about Venable for half an hour. Mead hadn’t stepped in which surprised you, maybe she expected you to say someone or order her to stop them.

“Alright, just because the woman isn’t here doesn’t give any of you the right to speak about her,” You projected your voice to the purple’s. “I thought you guys wouldn’t be dumb enough to speak about anyone negativity especially since she has the power to kill you all and no one will be stopping her this time,” the last bit directed to the young lovers who got their arse saved because Michael stopped them from getting killed. “The saying ‘the walls have ears’ exists for a reason. Did any of you notice that Mead or any of the workers were listening? One word of what you’ve said tonight gets back to your leader and you're done for. So, you best all apologise now.”

“She’s not even here-” Coco said.

“Do you want me to bring her here and have to explain why I am making you all apologise?” That would be worse off for all of them. The blonde ‘influencer’ shook her head. They all apologised. “Good. Now once you're done you can wash your dishes. The greys on dinner can take the rest of the night off.”

“What?”

“My orders were clear. What do you not understand?”

“You want us to work?”

“Yes, Gallant. Need I remind you the only reason you're a purple is because Vanderbilt was kind enough to persuade the woman you’ve all been insulting tonight to allow you to be a purple.” You settled back down in your spot. “Mallory you too can have the night off. I know Coco will end up making you do her work. During the next hour while they are working, you can use the hot water in my quarters to freshen up and relax if you like. I know the greys don’t have good showers.” Mallory thanked you.

“You have hot water?” Coco asked peeved that they had access to hot water this whole time and she didn’t know.

“Yes, and if your behaviour impresses me, I may allow you to use it two,” You said to Coco. “However, Mallory would you be kind enough to fetch me the last plate before you take your night off.” She nodded and left to retrieve the plate for you. You looked at all the purples in front of you. “What are you waiting for? Get to work.” Everyone stood up and tucked their chairs in. “Oh, Dinah, you don’t have to help, you didn’t do anything.” Once you had Venable’s plate you left to find the woman.

"V?" You called out into the darkness. Down the other end of the auditorium, you saw a small pinhead-sized light where the piano was. A low-pitched sound echoed through the auditorium. You crossed the floor to get to her. "I brought you your dinner."

"I'm not hungry." She pressed another key. Similar in sound to your tone death ears.

"Come on please eat. It's only one meal a day, I'm sure you're hungry." She shook her head then played another key. You gazed followed her left hand to the keyboard. You nudged her to move over on the bench to make enough room for you to squeeze on. She did it without complaint. She’s never been this deathly silent. You guessed you’d have to be the one to initiative the conversation. "Do you play?"

"I used to as a child. My mother forced me to play the instrument to show off to her friends,” She told you. She refused to look in your direction, not that you minded- at least she was talking. Venable avoided thinking back on her past. She was the only child of two not so loving parents. Venable learned from a young age to keep a good appearance. Her mother made the family to appear far wealthier than they were. Her mother’s circle always chatted about luxuries that they couldn’t afford- not to say they didn’t have them; they were in deep debt as a result. Her father- well Venable couldn’t remember much of the man; he was always out. She didn’t blame him, the moment she could she was gone too. Wilhelmina was deemed the family disappointment in her mother's eyes. Her back along with an assortment of other health issues she had as a child made her an easy target. As a result of her ‘shame’, she was forced to make up for her deformity through her grades but as always, they were never good enough. Her mother forced her into learning instruments, started with the piano, then moved onto the violin. If you could name it, she knew how to play it. Go to school, come home practice, do homework, sleep, repeat." She said. "I used to loathe the routine. I haven't played since I was a teen." Venable pressed another key. "I tried out your computer."

"-and?"

"You lied."

"About what?" She remained silent. "V, what did I lie about?"

"You don't care about me." Who could, she was unlovable.

"Why would you think that?"

"You said her- your ex's name- you still-"

"Mina- '' you try to take her hand, but she moved it away. "I do still- hold feelings for her but by no means am I not into you. I- love is crazy. I wasted years on a woman that couldn't see that I loved her, did that stop me? No. I waited. Far longer than I should have. I got the girl, but I don't think I ever rightfully had her. I was hyper fixated on my work, she on hers, it wasn't the right time. She's dead now. Killed by the man I work with. Do I still love her? Yes, but it's the idea of her I am. The reality was never really, truly mine."

"I don't get-" what you are saying?

"You won't get it. I don't even."

"Oh, god, my mother was right, I am unlovable."

"No. You are loveable." You pulled her so she was forced to face you. "Mina you are loveable."

"No one else would agree."

"Then they are wrong."

"Who do you know the others?"

"Who? What?"

"The Vanderbilt girl and her grey."

"How-is this relevant?"

"Answer the question."

"I can't- it won't make sense."

"Your ex was supposedly a witch, that's hard to believe."

"So am I." You guessed, it was more of an identity and you had to choose to identify as one, but the power wasn't a choice. If the witches counted Michael as a warlock then you could bend the imagination for you. Venable didn't believe you. "We'll, that's actually a human thing. But for your understanding, let's just say I am."

Now were belittling her? Human thing? Can’t you give it to her straight. She can take it.

"I knew you were full of nonsense but this-"

Nothing added up about you. You spoke about times that would have occurred before you were born. Now that she thought about it, you’ve never mentioned how old you were. You’ve spoken so little of yourself, she hadn’t the slightest clue of the person you were before.

"I'll prove it,” You said. “I'll … correct your spine."

This caused her to look at you properly for the first time since you joined her. "What?"

"Yeah,” You leapt up and faced her. She turned her body to face you. “It can't be too hard, I read about this sort of thing a couple years ago. I have my power back so it's safer to do."

“You would- why?”

“It will prove I’m not lying, and wouldn’t it be nice to relieve the pain it’s caused.” Venable teared up. “I’ll fix not only the physical pain but emotional- if you let me.” She considered it. No one had been able to fix it, the doctors- “Doctors are limited to their equipment Mina. I may not be a Doctor and you won’t ever need one again.” Who did you know what she was thinking?

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“I-I tr-ust y-you,” she choked the new words out. “What do I need to do?”

“First of all, relax, I hate to see you like this.” She took a deep breath. “Second, eat your dinner. Once done, go to your room and change into a dressing gown.”

“I don’t have a dressing gown.”

“Oh... I’ll get you one.” You said. “I’ll be at your room in an hour.” After your final words you headed into the generator room and shut the door behind you.

When Venable made it to her room, she found a black dress gown laid out on her bed. You hadn’t left the generator room, when did you place that there? Magic, she thought, forcing herself not to roll her eye at the concept. She locked the door behind her to ensure that she was not interrupted. No one ever busted in, but it still felt safer to do so, she didn’t want anyone to see her less than perfectly put together.

She imagined the gown to be yours, the fabric was a fine silk. The lightweight material wasn’t something she pictured you wearing but it was on her bed. The fabric was a good insulator and your cold body would have to retain heat somehow. The gown was smooth against her skin. The scent of honey engulfed her. A lovely scent but not yours. Yours was distinct and yet indistinguishable, yours melts her brain making determining the fragrance impossible. There was a hint of smokiness, but it was an underlying due to the potentness of the honey aroma.

With the remainder of her time, she didn’t know what to do. She rested down on her bed, pulling out the current book she was working through from her nightstand. She propped her cane against the table for easy accessibility. She didn’t know how long you would be or how long it would seem once she got started with her book. She tended to get engrossed the the novel having hours past that only seem like minutes.

Venable yawned, tried from her emotionally driven night. She didn’t understand how you managed to be upbeat all day, she assumed that would be just as tiring as being sad. Her eyes were heavy and after fighting through a few pages she decided to rest her eyes for a bit. She’d be woken up when you knock. You’d have to knock loud to get her to open the door.

The woman felt her hair fall on her face; she went to brush it off when she was beaten to it. The realisation that someone was in the room with her snapped her out of her slumber. Her eyes locked onto you leaning down looking at her fondly.

“Morning,” your voice was as sweet as the scent of the robe she was wearing.

“What? It’s morning?” She rasped out. Her throat had gotten dry during her sleep. You chuckled, turning to get a cup of water from the bed stand. You must have brought that with you.

“I’m only messing. It’s only been three hours.”

“You should have woken me.” How did you even get in?

“But you looked so peaceful,”

“I doubt that.”

“Also, it made it easier to work-”

“-You didn’t-”

“I didn’t touch you, in any way. I’m not a beginner,” You informed her. “Also, I would want you awake for that.” You had to turn it into an inappropriate comment. "So, how do you feel?" You helped her up.

"Did- did it work?"

"Why don't you take a look?" She looked at you. You gestured to her bedroom mirror. She grabbed her can on instinct. Slowly she unveiled her back to see no sign of her once curved spin. "You-"

"I did." You said. "It will take a few hours for you to gain your strength then you'll never need your cane again.”

She moved around getting the view of her back from as many angles as she could. "I can't believe it." Venable beamed out of pure joy. Normality at last. It shouldn’t be possible. She would no longer be in constant pain by the reminder of it. At the end of the world, with a goddess of sorts interested in her, is this making it? Had she done something right?

She had turned around fully to take herself in for the first time, she was content with what she saw.

"Believe.” You snuck up behind her resting your head on her shoulder and your arms wrapped around her waist. “Please.” She didn’t care about your closeness or the fact that your body was pressed up against her back. She couldn’t care. “In me, you and us. "

Venable lowered her gaze. “You’re asking for a lot Y/N.”

“I know but we’re running out of time. It’s only days before Michael’s done with his results.” You spun the woman around and eased her chin upwards forcing her to look at you. “I’m afraid we won’t make the cut.”

“You work for him.”

“For purely selfish reasons. He killed everyone I knew, or so I thought. A fog had been lifted from me. I made some stupid mistakes. I mean I helped him kill everyone. For the end times, wouldn’t you stick with the winning team.” You couldn’t begin to comprehend why you helped the boy. “Oh, and there's the fact that I’m kind of related to him.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m kind of his father’s sister. Not his father on earth but huh~”

“You lost me.”

“Umm~ Okay,” you sighed trying to figure out a way to word it. “He’s the antichrist.”

“You’re the devil’s sister?” You nodded. “That makes sense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No one has that level of confidence, knows everything about everyone, can get their way and be human.”

“When have I gotten my way?”

“You’ve strutted around the place, gaining everyone’s trust unlike your nephew which seemed to be your plan. You forced yourself onto me, got me and you still think you haven’t gotten your way?”

“I got you?” You smirked.

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s exactly what you said.”

“Don’t get any ideas-”

“Too late,” you chirped.

#wilhemina venable x reader #wilhelmina venable x reader #venable x reader

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my-miraculous-headcanons · 6 years ago

Text

Message Belatedly Received

It’s probably been months since Marinette had opened up her most treasured (non-magical) possession. Which truly is a crime, but it couldn’t have been helped. Things have been particularly busy, ever since Alya had found and returned her lost sketchbook all that time ago.

Hawkmoth had went on a rampage for a solid month, specifically targeting Chat Noir, and in that time, hadn’t even demanded the Ladybug or Black Cat Miraculous. In fact, all of his attacks seemed angry, overly violent, and uncoordinated. Marinette worries that their nemesis may very well be going off the deep end, and had been taken hold of by a bout of insanity.

There was also the matter of Adrien. He had taken special interest in frying her internal circuitry, and she can’t for the life of her figure out why. Not that she was complaining, of course, but...

No, yeah, she’s definitely complaining.

Having the object of her affections flirting with her every day should have been a dream come true for her, but in actuality, it’s a total nightmare. She hasn’t been able to get a coherent sentence out around him for ages, which is a huge step backwards on all the progress she made! She’s been coming home feeling absolutely mortified almost every single day, and at this point, she just can’t handle it anymore.

But, for the past three days, Adrien has not been in school, giving her time to finally get over all her embarrassment, think hard about his recent behaviour, and finally, jump, dance, squeal, and gush in absolute joy over the development.

Which ultimately led her to remembering the forbidden sketchbook.

How could she have possibly forgotten about it?!

She berates herself rather harshly for making such an error. She’s not one to forget something so important so easily, especially for that length of time. At the very least, even if she didn’t have the time to add anything, she should have thought or remembered it at least once!

There’s no use dwelling on that, however. Now that she actually has the free time, there’s no question on what she’s going to use it for.

With a look of fierce determination, Marinette draws out her mighty pencil from her desk drawer, and flips the forbidden sketchbook wide open.

And then she nearly has a stroke.

There’s a sticky note in it, peeking out ever so slightly behind pages that cover over it.

Alya had promised that she hadn’t look in it, and that she never would, but somehow, there was a sticky note in it, and she sure as hell wasn’t the person to put it there.

Hand shaking, she lets her pencil clatter to the desk, and hastily flips through the pages. She lands on the last of the occupational pages, where she had drawn Adrien in his pajamas, cuddled up with their three possible future children, the top of the page labelled Stay-At-Home Dad.

This one’s my favourite! :D

Her hear stutters to a stop. She recognises that handwriting.

As soon as realisation sets in, her heart restarts, then beats ten times faster.

Abruptly, she stands up, her chair forcefully pushed to roll across the room and slam into her bedroom wall. She flips to the first page, then lets a strangled noise emit from her throat.

There’s another sticky note.

Your designs are awesome! I can’t wait to see this when the time comes! ;)

Beside the sticky note is her in her wedding dress. Her face goes bright red as she lets out a whimper.

“Marinette?”

Tikki flits out from her corner, cookie crumbs on her cheeks, looking at her current Ladybug in concern. The expression on Marinette’s face isn’t anything new, especially recently in the wake of Adrien’s advances, but it’s certainly strange to be seeing it on her within the confines of her bedroom.

“Are you alright?”

Unable to gain control of her mouth fast enough, Marinette nods almost violently, snatching the forbidden sketchbook and pressing it flush against her chest.

“Don’t worry, I won’t look,” Tikki says in slight amusement. “Well, if you say you’re alright, I believe you. But if you need anything, just ask, alright? Or... snap your fingers, if you go nonverbal.”

At Marinette’s agreeing nod, Tikki goes back to her corner to consume more cookies.

With her kwami no longer inquiring, Marinette takes in a few deep breaths, willing herself to calm down enough so that her face is no longer a furnace.

“I’m gonna– balcony!“ Marinette cringes, but knows that Tikki’s familiar enough with her babble to know what she’s trying to say.

“Alright! Be careful though, it’s chilly!”

“Right, yeah!”

A minute or three later, Marinette is bundled up in one of her spare blankets like a burrito, resting against the lounge chair on her balcony. The cold air stings her cheeks, and it’s exactly what she needs to gather up the will to continue.

She opens the sketchbook up again, and flips to the next page, featuring Adrien in his wedding suit.

I like how I look here. I look happy and loved.

I want that.

She closes her eyes and simply breathes, feeling tears gathering up behind her eyelids, chest feeling full and warm despite the cool air. She takes a moment to herself before she continues on, flipping pages until she gets to the next sticky note.

I’d make a pretty handsome professor, wouldn’t I?

She lets out a surprised laugh. She was going for the dorky, borderline conspiracy theorist look, with unkempt hair, a wide grin, and a tacky tie, having him gesturing animatedly towards a chalkboard in front of a class.

Yeah. He’d be a pretty handsome professor.

She continues.

Hey, you give me too much credit. I love fencing, but am I really gold-medalist material?

Rugby? As a career? And ruin this pretty face? My father would have a coronary.

Okay, your idea of being a model looks so much more fun than my father’s idea. Yes please.

Baker? I can’t bake. I’d love to learn, though. I wouldn’t mind continuing the family business. Think your dad would teach me?

You know, I’ve never thought about being in a band full-time. I love that idea.

Ice dancing? Okay, I won’t deny I was interested in those lessons, but I think I’m too old to start a full-time career out of it at this point. Or was that figure skating?

She keeps flipping until she finally lands back onto the Stay-At-Home Dad page, smiling so widely it’s almost painful.

Adrien was giving her input on their shared future. He made no comments about how it isn’t guaranteed, or that he didn’t like her like that, or that he was upset with her, or that he liked someone else. No, instead he went along with it, seemingly happy with this find, and narrowing down the options for their future paths.

But, she can’t deny that the occupational pages and the wedding pages weren’t the most important ones. It’s what came after that truly mattered. And she can see the outline of the next sticky note against the page, so she knows he’s seen it.

Taking in a deep breath, she flips the page.

Hugo Dupain-Cheng-Agreste.

Louis Dupain-Cheng-Agreste.

Emilie “Emma” Dupain-Cheng-Agreste.

They’re beautiful.

You’re beautiful.

Thank you.

The tears that had been threatening to spill finally break free, rolling down her cheeks, and she smiles so wide she’s almost embarrassed, reaching a hand up to block the view of her grin.

“What do you got there, Marinette?”

She yelps and topples off the lounge chair, blanket slipping halfway down to her waist. Her head whacks painfully against the flooring, since her hands are too busy protecting the forbidden sketchbook to break her fall.

Chat Noir winces and helps the poor civilian up and back into her seat, apologising for startling her.

“It’s nothing, Chat Noir,” Marinette eventually responds, not too surprised to see him on her balcony. He’s been visiting more and more frequently lately, which is just another thing to add to the list of time-consuming distractions that’s kept her much too busy to even think about the forbidden sketchbook.

Honestly. How dare that cat be part of the reason that led her to committing such a crime.

“You’re not the type to cry over nothing,” Chat Noir says simply, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

“It’s not like they’re sad tears.”

“Happy ones, then?”

Her eyes dart away, cheeks going pink. Chat’s expression becomes devious.

“Of a boy, purrhaps?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Au contraire, mademoiselle! You have no idea just how much it is my business! But, since I am your absolute best guy friend ever, I promise not to push any more. Isn’t that noble of me?”

Marinette breathes out a relieved— and slightly amused— sigh, shooting her companion a grateful look. She looks down at the sketchbook, inspecting it to make sure it wasn’t damaged in the fall, then shuts it and places it on her lap.

Unnoticed to her, Chat Noir’s eyes finally make contact with the object of her happiness, and his smile goes tender and soft.

So, she’s finally noticed.

“It’s getting a little cold out here, don’t you think? Let’s go inside. Besides, last week you promised me we’d have an anime marathon. It’s Friday now and I’m getting antsy!”

Marinette laughs and shakes her head, kicking her blanket off her legs so she can stand up.

“Sure thing, minou. You know my desktop and Netflix password, I’ll go downstairs and sneak us some snacks.”

She flicks his bell.

“Be good.”

And with that, she descends into her bedroom and down the trap door, leaving a stunned superhero in her wake.

Huh, Chat thinks, heart thudding rapidly against his ribcage. Would it be a rational response to move our marriage date up a couple years? Eighteen isn’t too young, right? Right.

To the surprise of no one, he thinks that with full sincerity.

To the surprise of everyone but Adrien, she would say yes.

... But that’s a story for another time.

#Marry That Girl #Miraculous Ladybug #ML #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Adrienette #Marichat #Adrinette #Maximilian Speaks #Maximilian's Writing #Tikki #Chat Noir #We're nearing the end of the series

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purkinje-effect · 4 years ago

Text

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 67: Albatross

Table of Contents. Second Instar, Chapter 34. Go to previous. Go to next. TWs: Digestion issues, manipulative behavior. Strokes of luck.

______________________________________

“I still don’t get why you had to bring the leftover Flamer fuel.” Melancholy squirmed in the bed roll Sticks had wrapped him in to sling on his back. His stomach had churned for hours. “Are you expecting to find a replacement flamethrower?”

“Things have purposes.”

“I’m keen to overlook Mister Hawthorne bringing something frivolous, when he brought so much silt bean flour! I just might get three meals a day into you yet.”

“Getting it into me, and keeping it in me, present two different challenges.”

“You really are struggling with that Radscorpion omelette, huh.”

“I tell you, it’s not your cooking that’s got me.” ‘Choly stifled a whine and did his best to offset the rocking of Sticks’s gait. They’d cut down the Lowell Connector to follow Route 3 South, while avoiding the RobCo Towers property. “I’m sure I’d be much worse for wear if you hadn’t forced breakfast into me before we left.”

“We still have several bottles of your Melancholia, Sir, whenever you’re next in a patch you can manage to eat something.” Vigilant albeit loaded down with cargo, Angel alternated between taking the lead and taking the rear. “Sir... are you certain you’re fit to make this trip? I’m sure there’s all manner of places we could settle down. You know I do not mind looking after you, and--”

“--I’m fine.” He snorted, sinking back deeper into the ushanka to keep his eyes shut. “I just have business first.”

“Need I remind you, Mister Carey. You requested an excursion to retrieve medical grade equipment. If you’re frail enough to be on par with someone fresh off the operating table, you must be ever respectful of your limitations.”

‘Choly could feel Sticks’s shoulders bristle.

“This is a team effort, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Wouldn’t you gentlemen rather try other nearby hospital facilities?”

“Just about every hospital I can think of has got Supers moved in, or worse. If we need this shit in tact, our best luck is probably a warehouse. I trust ‘Choly’s judgment here. He’s known about these things for months.”

Rather than question what Sticks had meant by ‘supers,’ ‘Choly leapt on the chance to reaffirm confidence in the plan.

“I worked for Walden for a year. Even though I may not have worked directly with shipping, I still handled their inbound shipments. I know how to read their directory and catalogue.”

“Exactly. I trust you to have ruled out places that wouldn’t have it.”

“Sorry it’s the location furthest out...”

“Hey, you didn’t build it there.”

‘Choly murmured, then decided to turn on his Pip-Boy radio, and it substituted for further conversation for the next half hour to Billerica.

“All right, buddy. End of the line.”

Sticks unloaded ‘Choly and helped him back to his feet, then rolled the bedding back up. The chemist smoothed at his Vault suit and coat with slow, deliberate strokes. Staring down the green, ‘Choly squared up to tug down some slack in the Vault suit, where his ammo harness had ridden it up. He continued smoothing.

“You know, I used to come here at least once weekly. Sometimes twice, after a hard day at the pharmacy. It was pretty much daily, when I was still at Chelmsford military housing. Remember how we met? In Concord?”

“Yeah, Concord...”

When Sticks ambled on to the clubhouse without another word, ‘Choly followed, still prinking all the while. Angel had zoomed on ahead, already on the porch by that time.

“I was at the malt shop. On lunch break.” He smiled to himself, straining without his cane to match Sticks’s pace. A lyric laced his voice as he somehow kept trying not to laugh. “The one next door to the Hardware Town. You sat down at my booth, and questioned how you hadn’t seen me until recently. I’d only been working at Walden for about a month by then. You asked me, what my name was. What it really was. I don’t remember people pinpointing that I’m Russian, even back then, and there you were, able to guess I’d anglicized my name. --But it was a point of fascination for you, not paranoia. The whole Mindy thing goes back to day one. You told me it’s a nickname for an American name very close to it. You remember?”

He puffed up his chest a bit, in an attempt to match his memory of Sticks’s human voice.

“‘Mindy,’ you said, ‘Mindy, I sure could use a roommate, and it sure seems like you stand to nip a lengthy daily commute. With our combined salaries, we could afford a plush new house in the suburbs. And you look like the sensible sort of fellow that wouldn’t just help with rent. You and I, we could broker a beautiful partnership.’”

“You’re a sentimental sap,” Sticks ribbed, spotting him as he took the clubhouse steps.

“So what if I am! I was a little obtuse to recognize our chemistry for what it was. Hm.” He stopped at the front door. “I suppose, in a way, meeting you is the reason I stopped coming here every single day after work.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

‘Choly looked to him at length, and smiled broadly.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The ghoul grabbed him around the shoulder and shook him for emphasis, then held the door for him.

By the time they’d entered, Angel had already located Bogey and coaxed it from its hiding spot. The brass Handy sped up to them with a canister of water in two tendrils.

“Gentlemen! I won’t allow a single word of news until you’ve hydrated from your long trip. Come! Sit!”

The pair followed it into the dining area, where they took to a table near the center. The Handy used its pincer as a can opener for the two of them, and they accepted their water graciously. Sticks chugged the entire tin while ‘Choly sipped at his own.

“You sound like you’re feeling better, at any rate.” Sticks slouched back in the chair.

“It’s not every day I can remember anything with clarity. To remember something fondly, with that clarity... It’s good medicine, is all.”

“You, eh, seemed a bit under the weather last you came by,” Bogey agreed. “Are things all right?”

“Don’t worry about me. We’ve come back down for you. I’ll tell you, my original plan was to take you to Lowell once I could, but... --Yes, the Devils were taken care of, but robots with as good a nature as yours... Well, they just have no place there.”

Relief rippled from Bogey, and it circled them eagerly as though enthusiastic waitstaff anticipating orders.

“Oh, that is the best news I’ve heard in ages! My servos can breathe. Do go on.”

“Like I said, my plan was to take you to Lowell. There’s a settlement of folks in the Concord suburbs, Sanctuary Hills. I’m confident it’s a perfect fit, for you and them both. There’s a mechanic who can do maintenance on you. And Garvey, he’s incredibly protective of the group. The married couple, they take some getting used to, but I know you’ll warm up to each other. And Mama. Mama Murphy’s the whole reason I came out this way to begin with.”

“Concord is something of a transit from here. The thought that I could be around humans again after all this time, however. It simply has me sparking with delight.”

“We came from Lowell on foot,” Sticks reminded, using a third chair to kick up his feet as he leaned back on his arms behind his head. “We can make it to Sanctuary easy. Especially now that you and we makes four.”

“What kind of timetable do you suppose we’re on, Mister Carey?” Angel asked. It had returned to the main room after unloading the biggest cargo in the locker rooms. “It’s already noon.”

“Forgive my manners. Sticks, Bogey. Bogey, Sticks. Well,” ‘Choly thought, “we should assess what we can afford to bring along with us. It would be a shame to leave anything valuable behind, if there’s not going to be anybody here to make use of it.”

“Surely you don’t mean that you intend to loot the clubhouse,” Bogey sputtered, shrinking back.

‘Choly straightened up in his seat and made himself take another drink of water. The ghoul frowned at him.

“What he means to say is, we’re relocating the amenities--and you. Once we spruce up you n’ Angel, we can best determine who carries what. You’re still going where the things are going. That’s not a problem, is it?”

“I, I suppose not." The brass Handy stuttered. "I do apologize for the scarcity of my pantry. You wouldn’t like more peanuts, would you, Mister Carey?”

“I appreciate it, but if Sticks wants any, he can have mine, too.”

“I’m good. But." The ghoul grunted as he kicked forward to lean on the table, about to get up. "If I could use your kitchen to whip something up, we haven’t eaten since around eight, and I’ve worked up an appetite." He made his way that direction, turning a moment to finger-gun Bogey with a guttural click. "Promise not to make a mess.”

“Would you happen to like a Melancholia before we get started to the robotics shed, Sir?”

He gestured for his cane, which Angel produced.

“Let’s focus on you two first.”

The two Handies escorted him to the robotics shed adjacent to the clubhouse, where he got to working on Angel. Loaded upon the curved forks of the hydraulic robotics lift, the Handy received a fresh tank of fuel. Until that time, ‘Choly hadn’t got a genuine look at the broken metal and melted wiring up close. No wonder Angel had been weaving the whole way to Billerica. Plugging into the workbench with his Pip-Boy to run diagnostics only confirmed the repairs would prove more complicated than he’d thought. His lip soured as he let Angel loose and slouched back to sit on the stool. Angel awaited elucidation.

“Bogey, would I be able to bother you to do something somewhat gruesome for me?" When it watched him, he looked up to it. "Mister Handy ocular lens wiring functions with a certain amount of, how to put it. Each position, it bears a load. Missing one causes circuitry misfires in the others. I can’t just rewire the ocular socket to bypass the missing lens hardware, like I thought I would. I know there were still some parts leftover from when your coworkers, erm. I hate to ask, but would you two go find an in tact ocular lens on the green that I could use to repair Angel?”

“Is that entirely--”

“--Something of a transplant, then! Ha-ha!" Angel encouraged Bogey to come with it on the chore. "Humans have to do this all the time, chap. Don’t you rattle your nuts and bolts over it!”

“I suppose, if it helps.”

‘Choly worked at finishing off his water, and watched the clubhouse out the open roll-up door.

Sure would’ve been nice if Jacob had come out here to help. Things would go much more quickly. But I guess he deserves a break after carrying me all this way. Hopefully he won’t have to carry me home. He bit his lip. "...Or to Nashua.”

“Here we are, then, Sir!”

‘Choly jerked out of his daze, presented a full brass Handy ocular lens.

“Thank you, Bogey," he thanked.

Angel loaded itself back into the robotics bench, while its friend held the component.

“Angel calmed me over the whole notion. It’s still a piece from General Atomics, and a piece from a Mister Handy, at that. And I trust you’ll be delicate with my friend.”

“I’ll port all four colorations, after this repair takes," Angel beamed. "To think--I’ll even be part brass! Bogey, I’m most confident in Mister Carey’s capabilities.”

“I’ll do my best. Just having the part makes me much more likely to succeed.”

“I hope Mister Sticks doesn’t take exception to how long we’ve left him alone in the clubhouse," Bogey fretted. "Should I go to check on him, do you think?”

“I’m sure he’s fine. I’d rather you stayed here. I have to power Angel off to work on it, so it won’t be able to assist me." This didn’t entirely reassure the brass Handy, so he added, "Once I’ve got the firmware repair sequence initiated, you can go check on him.”

Bogey liked that much better.

“Before we start on anything, though. Angel, could I bum a Berry?”

Fueled by the nootropic, the chemist worked on his robot, with his robot’s friend fetching tools and holding up the component to latch into the bench’s series of hydraulic pulleys. The moment the Pip-Boy had executed the bench’s scan, Bogey zipped off like its vitality depended on it.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think Bogey’s more worried about the clubhouse than Sticks.”

The remark soaked in a ways, and he petrified in guilt. Of course Bogey was preoccupied with tending its clubhouse. For the past year, the Billerica Golf Course had been its sole responsibility once the Devils had felled all its fellow robots.

He checked the time and wiped at his face.

Five already. We burned the whole day just getting here and managing this one task. Even if we could head out right now, the sun would set on us before we got to Sanctuary. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and Jacob’s been taking inventory of the clubhouse while I was repairing Angel.

Once Angel came back online, he ran a second series of diagnostics to guarantee the optical lens had installed correctly. The two took a skimming survey of the repair shed, making note of the various tools and materials not too large or heavy to transport, before returning inside.

On the way up the back steps, ‘Choly recalled that Olivia had forbidden the Deenwood robots to let Sticks go unchaperoned. Between that and remembering how the ghoul had rummaged his own secretary the night before, uncertain queasiness overtook him. Angel held the door open for him, and he swallowed in anticipation of something unbecoming.

The door shut behind him, and he found that Sticks had in fact put his time to use. Rather than laze about like he probably would have wished to, on the bar and tables he’d organized the cookware and serveware from the kitchen, the toiletries and clothing from the locker rooms, and even the cleaning supplies from the utility closet. The ghoul sat back at a table, tapping the end of a golf pencil at a clipboard.

“Oh, good. Maybe Bogey can help you two." He snorted hollowly. "Everything go well?”

“It will be some time before I’m sure of my sensors," Angel said, "but I’m certainly in one piece again, thank you.”

“Did you need any tune-ups?" ‘Choly asked Bogey. "I think it’s too late to expect to leave out tonight, but I could take a look at you tomorrow before we leave.”

“I’m right as rain, after all you did for me last week, Sir.”

“Bogey says it’s pretty sure it can carry about 150 pounds," Sticks remarked coolly, looking over everything he’d written down. "Now that it’s been serviced, Angel can take about 200. And I can carry about 100, 125. So uh. About 400 between us? But, gotta to take ‘Choly into consideration... Anything he carries will count toward Angel’s limit... Help me out here.”

“Let’s just call me 125, if that’s what you’re asking. So... what, 325, split between us? What all do you think we need to take to Sanctuary? The Quincy survivors don’t have much beyond what’s been left there.”

Sticks stared at his paper with a difficult brow.

“You rattled off five people earlier, so at least one good set of pans. I’d say at least one good cup, bowl, and plate for each of ’em, too. The clothes shouldn’t weigh too much. Anything they don’t wear, they can scrap for fabric. Bogey wasn’t kidding, either. All I found in the way of food was eleven Nuka-Colas and about ten pounds of expired peanuts.”

“Oh dear, they’re expired!" Bogey fretted. "Are the pops all right?”

“Oh I had a Nuka-Cola, and a bag of peanuts, and was fine," ‘Choly reassured. He refused to let Sticks slight Bogey’s hospitality over things it couldn’t help.

“I do agree that we should take our time being picky here." Sticks set down the clipboard. "If we rush, we might miss something useful.”

“I don’t see any golfing paraphernalia," ‘Choly observed, finally sitting, one table over. "I’d at least like to comb the green for a replacement bag, even if I don’t find more clubs.”

“I didn’t have a chance yet, to scout the sports stock. I can’t expect too much, considering the Devils hit it. I mean, they left next to nothing. I’m surprised you managed to pull together a playable set of clubs, really. They mowed down so many robots. There’s probably not even a full golf cart’s worth of parts left. I mean no disrespect to you, Bogey, or your buddies, but I legit had not directly witnessed what the Devils were capable of until walking up to this clubhouse today.”

“Mm!" Angel snipped in indignation. "Yes, and aren’t you glad they’re GONE now! An absolute scourge!”

‘Choly caught himself almost gawking at Sticks, and he slouched in grief.

“So we’re in agreement that we’re not going to try to rush out of here tonight?”

“We’re here for the night, Mindy.”

“Oh, do let me help inventory it all," Bogey insisted. "They are, in a way, my things, after all.”

“Of course, pal." Sticks shot it a grin. "Don’t sweat a thing.”

By nightfall, they had everything prepared to pack up. Sticks made himself a reconstituted cream stew for dinner while ‘Choly finally relented to a Melancholia for himself. They made use of the locker room to wash their faces and brush their teeth. ‘Choly stripped down to just his Vault suit, and Sticks took off everything but his jeans and tee.

“Are you sure you’re all right with me sleeping on the couch?”

‘Choly could hear Sticks fidgeting in his bedroll in the floor next to him. He made a face in the dark.

“I’d be more all right if you’d get down here with me, if we’re honest.”

“Are you just being like that because you’d rather have the couch?”

“It’s just, we can’t both fit on the couch.”

“I’m not up here because I think I deserve it more or anything.”

“That’s not what this is." Sticks huffed. "You’ve got me liking having a warm body next to me.”

“Would you sleep better if I got down there?”

“Won’t you?”

‘Choly stifled the reflex to object to sleeping in the floor, but he remembered aching all the same waking from the couch last week.

He shoved the bedding off onto Sticks, who sputtered into a chuckle, and got up to help push the bedrolls together. Once they had amassed their pile, Sticks spooned him. They lay there comfortably for some time, but ‘Choly remained awake.

“Could I ask you something, Jacob?”

“Mhh.”

“It’s just, I’m still having trouble with the whole Magnetizer double-dose mess. Everything about that felt... I don’t know. It felt off." He pulled Sticks’s hand around him tighter. "You got something out of that, didn’t you?”

Sticks ran his hand along ‘Choly’s thigh.

“I got you. I guess I can be candid with you, since you’re clearly on board even without me relying on a chem boost. You asked me why I didn’t bank on the effect of Magnetizer with the Gen or the Furriers. I needed to bank on it with you. I couldn’t risk you turning down my proposition. Not until you had a chance to really warm up to the whole idea. You have warmed up to me, haven’t you? Warmed up to us actually giving this ’us’ thing a shot?”

The inside of ‘Choly’s face burned.

“...And the sex before the Unfolding?”

“Icing on the cake.”

“Everything’s a transaction with you. You certainly bought me.”

Sticks pulled him closer, to sleepily nuzzle in the crook of his neck.

“For you, no price is too high.”

Go to Next »»»

#fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout 4 fanfic #fo4 fanfic #sole survivor #the anatomy of melancholy #melancholy #sticks #ghoul oc #angel #bogey #mister handy

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ofloveandaether · 4 years ago

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The Unseen Threats

It was always a bit jarring stepping foot into Castrum Oriens from the serene greenery of the Twelveswood. The rigid and unyielding metal constructs seemed so out of place;about as out of place as many thought of the female midlander and her carbuncle out in the fringes of civilization. Clutching her satchel strap, Alysia was rather oblivious of any of the skeptical looks from the denizens of the outpost. In her mind, she had all the appropriate travel papers to move freely over the border. The fact that she was alone and could be easily perceived as delicate by her appearance alone was nothing she even considered.

In truth, her thoughts still lingered on her bristled pride after her encounter earlier in the day with Mattisaux. Though she no longer muttered unlady-like curses under her breath, Alysia was still distracted by the turbulent direction that their conversation had turned. His unpredictability always made her equal parts intrigued and uneasy. If he had not aided, and in turn saved her, in Ala Ghanna, the Hyur may have just dismissed the Elezen as a disgruntled prat. Instead, she now had unwittingly let him get under her skin. Regardless, she had succeeded in her endeavor in Gridania of finding accurate and recent mapping of the more rugged outreaches of the Peaks during the occupation. The cartographer had been most helpful and with this new information, the likelihood that she would find the hidden Garlean testing facility where that chimera must have come from had increased exponentially. All that mattered now was finding someone willing to act as a guide; a local perhaps. Pity that Mattisaux had not been more accommodating or interested in helping her. As annoying as he could be, he was a capable fighter. With such thoughts, Alysia went to the canteen hoping to find a quiet place to rest. Her feet were sore and a good cup of tea would help gather her constitution. Soldiers in the colors of the City States mingled with other adventurers. She did her best to keep from underfoot, side stepping out of the paths of the more grizzled and intimidating of the lot. It was only by chance that she noticed a familiar face amongst the crowd.

It wasn’t that the man was well known to her. They had only really passed a handful of sentences between each other during her time in Ala Ghanna. What made him so memorable was how heavily scarred the highlander’s face was. A survivor of Garlean atrocities. His story had pulled on Alysia’s heartstrings. All the pain he’d endured and the loss of his family. It was hard not to pity the young man. He stood aloof in the main thoroughfare, cowl pulled up to dissuade any gawking from others. The way he kept looking about, it seemed as if he was searching for someone amongst the crowd. It was strange, considering that he had a reputation for being withdrawn but Alysia always took gossip with a grain of salt. “Gregoire?” She called out as she approached.

The highlander seemed startled at the sound of his name spoken, jumping somewhat as he tried to lay eyes on its origins. With a beaming grin, Alysia came to stand in front of the man. “You are a long way from home! What are you doing here?” She asked curiously in the hopes of striking up a conversation. Gregoire nervously tugged at the front of his hood for a moment, turning his head ever so slightly so his scarring wasn’t so visible. “Ahh...yes. Um...Miss Fairwind wasn’t it? The elders sent me to look for you. They said you’d be coming back soon after you went to Gridania.” he stammered anxiously. Alysia cocked her head to the side in curiosity, having not anticipated such concern from the citizens. Yes, she’d been one of the few to help them with their prior plight but had told few of her brief absence. Though the fact that he was clearly self conscious made the young woman realize that questioning the man might only cause him more discomfort. “That is quite kind of them. Did they want you to escort me? I intended to go through Rhalgr’s on one of the caravans.” She replied, taking great effort to be as warm and friendly as possible. Gregoire cleared his throat and took a quick glance around. His eyes momentarily fell upon the carbuncle who lumbered around behind the redhead before returning his gaze to her. “Yeah, something like that. They wanted me to bring you back as soon as possible.” This stoked Alysia’s interest, eyes going wide with concern. “As soon as possible? Was there another attack on the village? More sightings of creatures?” Her worst fears seemed to be coming true. When she had seen the transmitter implanted into the neck of the chimera, it had left the impression that the ordeal was far from over. The look of alarm was blatant on her features. “Aye. Another one of the beasts.” His words seemed rather flat, lacking the urgency that she felt in the tight knot of her stomach. “They said that you were the only one they trusted after you helped with the last one. I know shortcuts up through the mountains that will get us there faster. If we hurry, we can make considerable time and bypass the Reach entirely.” Though that cup of tea still would have been much preferred, Alysia knew the right thing would be to make all due haste back to the village. The sooner they found their way back, the sooner she might be able to find a way to stop this nightmare. With a heavy sigh, the hyur nodded in agreement. “It’s not ideal but I agree. If you say you know your way, I believe you…”

It had been hours since they had left the Castrum when Gregoire finally diverted off the main road. The sun was starting to fall behind the jagged horizon, casting the arid surroundings in vivid pinks and oranges. It might have been considered beautiful had the ominous tension not nagged at the back of Aly’s thoughts. Her escort had not been particularly chatty, despite her best efforts to engage him. The highlander seemed intent to keep a rigorous pace, most likely to cover as much ground before evening settled in. “How much farther do you think?” She inquired with an exhausted sigh. The terrain had become much more rugged now that they were navigating along game trails and smuggler paths. Stopping for a brief moment, the redhead brushed off the travel dust from her skirt hem.

Gregoire cast a glance over his shoulder, his lip curled up slightly in exasperation. “If you need to rest, just say so.” He said rather curtley. The sudden sharpness of his response made Alysia purse her lips in concern. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I…” She tried to explain as the man rounded abruptly to face her. “Sorry for what? Meddling in matters that aren’t your concern?” He spat down at her. “If you had just kept your nose out of it all, it wouldn’t have had to come to this…” Alysia opened her mouth to respond but said nothing as she saw two imposing shadows rise from behind nearby crags. Towering monstrosities of muscle and sinew, it was impossible not to notice the Allagan hand in it’s creation. Glowing eyes of malice glared down the length of canine snouts and jutting horns like that of an aldgoat framed its face. In it’s elongated hands gripped savage looking axes that were as frightening as it’s wielders. The realization hit Alysia hard. “The Chimera...it was you?!” She blurted loudly despite the tumultuous position she found herself in. Gregoire reached back and pulled off his cowl, exposing the intricate circuitry that had been implanted behind his ear and around his neck. “Aye, me. You had to get in the way of my revenge. You and that bastard Elezen you were with. You clueless do-gooders have no idea what you even are doing. You came and inadvertently protected all those Carnia Lupi bastards that thought that they could just pretend that they didn’t do horrible things to us for the Garleans!” He shouted at her as she slowly tried to back away from the trio. Carbuncle’s hackles bristled as it growled but seemed a trifle threat compared to the Shabti flanking Gregoire. “Those bastards killed innocent people and shouldn’t get to live with their sins. I intend to see vengeance done!” “Wait…” Alysia said, hands up in the hopes of trying to calm the man before he did anything rash. “It doesn’t have to be this way. Please,I promise if you just stop we can talk…” “TALK!?” He interrupted loudly. “The time for talk is over. You know too much now. I hate to have to kill you. Under other circumstances, I might have liked you.” A wicked smile said more than any of his words. He would gladly kill her and enjoy it, as well. “People will come for me!” She declared, keeping a keen eye upon the monsters at his command. “This won’t accomplish anything.” Gregoire only snickered at her assertion as his hand reached up to toggle a switch on his magitek implant. The two shabti simultaneously turned their attention upon the lone Midlander, slowly beginning their advancement.

“That might be so. Hopefully your Elezen companion will come and I can kill two birds with one stone! Take her. She might be of some use, afterall..” He barked loudly, causing Alysia’s heart to plummet into her stomach. There was no reasoning with the man. All she could do was do her best to try and escape. Turning on hard on her heel, Alysia bolted into a dead sprint along the rugged path they had ascended. She could hear the guttural growls of the lupine constructs confronted by her summons. Only the briefest glances over her shoulder saw the glint of waning sunlight on their weapons as they came down on the ephemeral carbuncle. The sharp pain in her chest as the dual attack snuffed out it’s life made Alysia cry out even though she knew that as long as the emerald was safely intact within her pocket, it wasn't’ truly dead. Narrowly dodging rocks and exposed roots, it was all too evident that she would never outrun the creatures at Gregoire’s command. She reached into her pocket with frantic panic and pulled out the small pearl. Pressing it’s activation trigger for general broadcast, she practically shouted into the device. “Anyone in the general vicinity northeast of the Velodyna River, I require immediate assistance! I repeat! My name is Alysia Fairwi….” Her message was cut short as her divided attention caused her to trip and fall hard to the ground. The linkshell dropped, lost amongst the dirt and scraggly weeds. She tried to scramble to her feet, struggling to get them beneath her as her heart hammered in her chest. The lumbering forms lingered in her peripherals and she could sense their malicious intent. One grabbed at her leg, halting her retreat as it dragged her back several feet. Her fingernails dug into the ground, leaving long trails in their wake. The sound of her screams echoed off the rock edifices but it was unlikely anyone would ever hear them. Her bag fell off her shoulder, leaving her belongings strewn about as she was lifted up like some ragdoll. Hot, rancid breath washed over her as she was brought up to be sniffed and examined by the Shabti. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to concentrate hard enough to cast anything that might save her but all her attempts fizzled as her grimoire lay discarded beneath her. So many doubts and regrets flooded her thoughts, considering she imagined this was the precipice of her death. Even the thought that she would soon be reunited with her parents brought her little comfort. The Shabti swung it’s arm and her in tow and with a simple flick, it slammed her frail form hard against the earth. The pain of the impact was too much for her to bear, as darkness enveloped her senses and her body went limp. Gregoire watched on from his vantage point, his scars no longer the ugliest part of his feature. The joy in his eyes as he watched his Allagan servants incapacitate the Midlander was all too apparent. “Bring her back to the lab. She will be our guest and leverage if it comes to it. If not, I’ll let her be your ‘plaything’ as a reward.” He chuckled, as if those that served him were some sick semblance of pets. @the-baschet for mentions

#Alysia Fairwind #RP relevant #My Writing #Balmung RP #Final Fantasy 14 #final fantasy xv fanart

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rohad93 · 5 years ago

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A Work In Progress: Memory in G Minor

A lil Bellow Diamond snippet that fits in with the events of my stories from bellow week but after the movie(though it doesnt matter much) Also my beta reader left the country so excuse and mistakes.

~~~~~~~~~

Another day on Homeworld in Era 3 started as it typically did in the confines of Yellow Diamonds palace, with the low hum of machinery and the clinking and clanking of metal.

Though it was no longer the hum of large scale weaponry, or the clinking and clanking of metal plates being constructed into battle ships.

Now it was just Yellow herself, alone in her personal workshop, a place nearly abandoned after the end of Era one. There simply hadn’t been the time, between the other diamonds courts and her own she was mildly surprised she hadn’t cracked under the strain. A burden made all the more apparent by the sudden surplus of free time she suddenly had.

There were still things to see too but it was nothing like before and for as much as she knew Steven did enjoy spending time with them, she was well aware that he had his own life to live on Earth and that the three of them, especially White, could be a little much.

She was resolved to try and respect that.

They had Spinel with them now but they all still needed time apart, herself especially. There was only so much of White she could handle in any given rotation.

Thus how she had rediscovered her workshop, the place limb enhancers, destabilizers and rejuvenators had been birthed.

She now felt some modicum of shame at the last two, but there was no use wallowing in past mistakes. It was what had been required of her at the time.

She was however reminded of the great pride she felt whenever pieces slotted together and worked as they should, a fulfillment she had felt long ago, when she was a much younger gem. A time before she had conquered her first planet, a time before Pink or even Blue had existed.

Now, when she wasn’t needed or in the presence of her fellow diamonds she retreated to her workshop for quiet and solitude.

A small concentrated zap of her powers soldered two plates of metal together, connecting their circuits. Yellow hummed to herself as she inspected the tiny circuitry with a critical eye before nodding to herself as she slotted the new piece into place in the circuit board.

Her newest project was something she had wanted to work on for a long time, a very long time. It was only now that she finally had the chance. It had been in the works for several months and she was very nearly finished with it now.

It had been so long and yet her hands moved as though it had barely been a rotation since last she had tinkered with the tools strewn about the table.

Her gem would glow periodically as she infused her power into the small circuits, hopefully ensuring it would do what she had planned for it to do.

She was so absorbed in the small device in front of her that she didn’t even notice the pneumatic hiss of the workshop doors.

Brows furrowed in concentration as she worked a small part into its rightful place between a set of metal prongs.

“So this is where you’ve been.” A melodic voice at her back broke the silence, making the golden gem jerk up in surprise.

“Blue!” Yellow nearly yelped, turning to her azure counterpart, standing their with a small smile on her lips. “What are you doing here?” She turned around fully to face her.

“Looking for you of course, darling.” She said as her eyes roamed around the workshop and the many partially completed projects from eons past. “I had forgotten this place even existed.” She admitted, openly admiring the many devices hanging from the walls

“I nearly did as well.” Yellow admitted, rolling her shoulders, only now realizing how long she’d been hunched over the work table. “You’ve grown tired of White and Spinel’s company already?” She cocked a brow.

“The two of them are completely engaged in one of Spinel’s games so I thought I might come keep you company for a while, if you don’t mind that is.” cobalt eyes settled back on her, a soft smiling pulling at her lips.

“You know I don’t, though I doubt you’ll find my work of particular interest.” She turned back to her current project, well aware of Blue peeking around her shoulders, gazing down at fist sized cube Yellow held gently in her hand.

“The things you come up with are always interesting.” She assured, brushing her fingers through stiff golden hair teasingly.

“I think you mean deadly.” Yellow grunted, twisting a small bolt in place with a satisfying click.

“Well, some of them have been that, certainly.” She agreed, moving to the side to better view her love at work. “That doesn’t lessen the brilliance or ingenuity.” She insisted.

Molten gold eyes slid to regard her from the corner of her eye for a brief moment.

“You flatter me.” She said in a deadpan voice, though the subtle upturn of her lips held a different tone altogether.

“I do try.” She admitted with a small grin. “So, what are you working on?” She turned her gaze back to the device that enviously held her lovers attention so strongly.

“I can’t say.” Yellow said after a long moment, turning to look at the perplexed look on Blue’s face. “It’s a surprise.” She finally said, a certain look in her diamond shaped eyes.

“I don’t care for surprises…” Blue crossed her robed arms, a pout settling on her face that made Yellow snort in amusement.

“Be that as it may you’ll have to wait just the same.” She went back to fiddling with the device, well aware of the look Blue was giving her.

“Very well.” She acquiesced. “Keep your secrets, I simply came to keep you company.” She flipped a hand nonchalantly as she sat in the chair near the bench but Yellow knew better. It was eating her up.

In the ensuing quiet she was able to concentrate again on the task at hand, completely forgetting about her counterpart watching her quietly as she cut and molded pieces to fit her needs.

She wasn’t sure how many cycles had passed when she finally stood up straight, holding the completed device in her hands.

“Are you finished?” She nearly jumped when Blue spoke.She had all but forgotten of her fellow diamonds presence.

“I am” Yellow turned to face Blue and her curious expression, holding out the device on her upturned palm.

“For me?” Blue blinked back at Yellow in surprise.

“For you.” was all the other diamond said.

Reaching out carefully Blue plucked the device from her lovers hands. It didn’t appear to be anything special. A small metal cube, with deep lines carved across every face, meeting at a small crystal at the center of its top face and a diamond shaped button on it’s left face.

Blue glanced up at her companion who gave an encouraging smile before Blue pressed the button.

Yellow light glowed in the crevices that lined the device on every side, reaching up and lighting the crystal at its top.

Yellow, needlessly, held her breath.

Blue waited and it seemed like nothing was going to happen for a moment, just as she was about to turn back to Yellow did she hear it.

It started quiet at first, a soft, almost humming melody.

A song.

Wordless and quiet but growing stronger and louder till the beautiful lilting melody filled the air around her.

It was beautiful and there was something eerily familiar about the sound of the singer. It most certainly wasn’t Yellow or White, both were incapable of such quiet singing.

The voice pitched to another note and realization smacked Blue so hard she thought her gem might crack.

“Pink…” The name ghosted across her lips unbidden. It was Pink singing. Blue remained mesmerized by the boxes song as Pinks long absent voice crooned in delicate, wordless notes before the song faded out and the crystal went dark.

Watery ocean eyes looked up at Yellow in silent question.

“This…” she started, cupping her hand beneath Blue’s still clutching the small device “...is something I began working on when we first gave Pink the Earth. I knew how much you missed her and I wished to ease it.” She explained the boxes purpose. “It was forgotten in the wake of the rebellion and...other things.” She trailed off. None of them particularly liked talking about Pinks fake shattering.

“Why now?” Blue glanced down at the device before looking back up at Yellow.

“It seemed like you could use it now, now that the memory isn’t so... painful.” She gave an awkward little shrug.

“However did you make it sound like her?” Blue marveled at the little metal box.

“It doesn’t sound like her, it is her.” She sniffed. “We didn’t have any recordings of Pink singing so I built this, to access and record audio memories from a gem. I simply used my own” She explained to her amazed counterpart.

Blue stared down at the box clutched in her fingers before looking back up at Yellow.

“This is… your memory of Pink singing?” She asked slowly once the implication of what Yellow was saying sank in.

“It is” Was the simple answer. Blue clutched the box close to her, as if it hadn’t already been precious before. A small piece of Pink returned to her, through her darling Yellow.

“It’s wonderful, Yellow.” She smiled despite the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as she leaned against the other diamond. “Thank you.” She pressed a kiss Yellow’s cheek.

“Anything for you, Blue.”

#bellow diamond #yellow diamond #Blue diamond #steven universe #fanfic

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pleasantwizardphilosopher · 3 years ago

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Blooming

This is chapter 4 of my current fic, I am posting them here as well as in AO3 just because, I really hope you like it, let me know if there are mistakes and your thoughts overall.

Supergirl arrived at Zor-El headquarters like a speeding bullet, almost breaking the sound barrier, out of sheer excitement. Things with the CEO went beyond her wildest dreams, not only was the joint project approved, almost, since Lena still has to sit down with the same old misogynists and make them approve the budget, however, the Maiden of Might has no doubt that the green-eyed genius will make them bend under her gaze. She herself, felt her knees growing weak every passing minute in the woman’s presence, she is now certain that the CEO can bend steel *wink *wink. Furthermore, the Kryptonian has gotten the opportunity of working side-by-side with Lena (isn’t that a beautiful name?), the same one she has been in awe with for several years; watching the CEO work up close was something the Kryptonian never even dared dream of, as it was something she always thought to be quite impossible, because although their companies aim for similar purposes, their markets and social statuses are entirely different.

Moreover, she is certain that there is something bonding them together, what, she isn’t sure exactly, there is just this itching crawling under her skin, making all her nerves tingle with excitement, wanting to grab the Irish goddess and hold her close, to protect her, to know her entirely, to pull a smile from crimson lips, to make sure that she feels safe, validated and supported in a way the Girl of Steel is now certain Lena has never experienced, she also wants to tear down all the walls she has built around herself and know the real Lena, the one that’s deeply hidden behind years of trauma and abuse, and it frightens her, her whole life she’s always wanted to make friends, sure, she’s friendly by nature, but this, this depth, she has never before encountered and albeit the horizon seems promising, scary as well but first and foremost promising; it’d imply bringing to light many things that she’d truly rather not. However, as they say, time will tell, and she definitely wants to see what lays on the other side.

The first thing the Superfriends get to after receiving the good news from Kara is to slightly modify the organization of the company’s headquarters; during the last year of their superheroing endeavors they installed a vigilance room to allow their crime-fighting activities to go smoothly (ish). Said room is in the basement, the vault where they keep their prototypes is still there, occupying one full corner; however multiple monitors and computers had been installed as well, to keep track of Nia and Kara while they’re on the field; there are several chairs, and a platform is installed on the middle for debriefing and planning. There are also four suit holders, where Dreamer’s and Supergirl’s suits are, as well as prototypes for Winn and Brainy’s, in case they ever want to join them on the spot. Since they are one of the most innovative tech companies, many of their security and communications prototypes are firstly tested by them on life-saving missions, taking the devices to their tipping point, that way they ensure that every single device and software launched works perfectly under their prompted circumstances. What they added were a few biometric locks to avoid being discovered and a false wall that hides the elevator leading to the lowest floor. The rest of the building remains the same. Safe for the fact that Nia and Brainy have their own office and lab, respectively, on the third floor and on the second floor, where Winn’s supercomputing lab is, they’ve added a med-bay, after several injuries on the field and only a little bit of alcohol and cotton to treat them, some of their most successful medical equipment are used there.

The first time the two of them actually get together to work on the project, or more specifically, to go through the details of their work together; Kara arrives at the CEO’s office with a paper bag filled with doughnuts and two coffees on a cup holder, she's done her research (aka asked Jess) and now knows that the green-eyed woman likes her coffee black, which is something she honestly doesn’t get the fuss of. The Kryptonian thinks it's a great way to start this project, this working-relationship, starting with the right foot and all that, especially considering that she'll put forward her own lab for them to work on the project, is more private than the L-Corp tower, brimming with scientists and business people; and she'll feel a lot more comfortable there, having her friends and colleagues close and being a few steps away from her suit, in case her assistance is needed, is a lot less likely that the genius woman finds it suspicious, she just had to make sure that no scribbles in Kryptonian were left on her desk and project board, the ones she did have were (not) carefully folded (more like threw) in a locked drawer, away from prying eyes.

When she's let into the office, after giving Jess a couple of doughnuts for her invaluable help with her ‘getting to know Lena’ research; she cannot help but be struck dumb (again), and surprisingly it never gets old, at the sight of the Irish woman. The CEO is standing facing the city through her office’s windows, her silhouette highlighted by the sunlight flooding the office, she is wearing a crimson red three-piece suit that fits her perfectly, after she turns around, Kara can see that underneath she’s wearing a black button up, and her signature red lipstick, the whole outfit paired with dangerously high heels. She gestures for the hero to sit down on her very white couch so they can thoroughly review the information they have and design their project’s timetable and budgets, her eyes are glinting like light reflecting from beautiful emeralds, unblemished, there is curiosity written all over them and she smells wonderful, the strong smell of the coffees the blonde is still holding do nothing to diminish the smell of cinnamon and a citric perfume coming from the CEO.

Lena, on the other hand, finds herself to be intrigued by the woman sitting in front of her, she’s wearing a white and black flannel paired with khaki pants and a simple belt at her hips, her hair is braided perfectly and falls over her shoulder; and the whole outfit makes her look so young and innocent that the CEO has to refrain from wanting to hug her, which is not a common circumstance she finds herself in, for someone as touch starved as she is. The scent of the coffees she’s brought still lets a scent of vanilla and lavender get to her nose and she feels at ease, for the first time in who knows how long. She should be worried, about someone having such strong effect on her, but she honestly isn’t, it feels as natural as breathing, there is something about those cerulean blue eyes that settle her heart and even her breathing, like coming home after a long day at work, or falling asleep into a mother’s embrace, she finds it to be really easy to just let go and be.

Both of them engage in shy smiles and deer eyes for a few moments, all boardroom meetings and upcoming deadlines forgotten. With the information they have now they know for sure that current solar panels are very inefficient, you can power two computers and a light bulb tops with the best ones available on the market, and not for a very long time, as their reliability is quite low. But with the system proposed by the Kryptonian who, with huge compliments to Alex, for helping her with the cellular growth and with her help as medical specialist to analyze the results; has spent the past two months thoroughly evaluating her cells solar absorption. The system will work as follows, the nanoparticles oscillate when solar radiation hits them, this is due to a quantum phenomenon called surface plasmon resonance that enhances the radiation through the oscillation of the particles, as a result of their electromagnetic fields, to the wavelength of certain radiations, solar now, and hence, the energy obtained is higher than that of the incident light, then, this enhanced energy in the form of light will go to the circuitry, which will do... something, Kara isn’t entirely sure as to what exactly, even with her engineering background the circuitry she can think of will be huge and inefficient; to turn the radiation into current and voltage so it can be stored in batteries and transported, if necessary.

Lena laughs softly at the woman’s circuitry perception and pipes in, explaining her own vision for the circuitry, she has been thinking about it for the past months, getting all her knowledge together to develop the best system, she proposes to build nanobots that will act as small transformers, turning raw energy into voltage with the aid of electron energies, which are directly bound to voltage, jumping from one orbital to another, however, now that she understands the blonde's idea better, she had been quite secretive about this, she thinks they can add a cobalt isotope battery that would allow the system to store the energy for further use and for long periods of time without any significant decay; the system would allow power to be distributed evenly with no current peaks or voltage drops. They also agree on having the nanobots programmed with a failsafe to prevent the system from supercharging. As enraptured as they are in their little science discussion, finally having someone who gets their brilliant minds and has more ideas, challenging one another, time flies for both of them, and suddenly they have to part ways to keep with their day, having been discussing ideas and details for several hours, there are now several pressing matters that they need to attend. As she is walking out of the office, Kara spears one more look at the green-eyed genius, who is now checking something on her laptop, after turning on the TV in mute, if she didn’t know better, she’d say she’s smitten, but that is a dumb idea.

When Lena is left alone in her office again, she feels light as a feather, in a way she had forgotten one could feel, this project holds many expectations, for both of them, nonetheless, she can finally let her mind free, without being afraid that someone may feel threatened by her intelligence. Smiling softly to herself she turns her attention to her laptop, in order to keep going through accumulated emails and paperwork; remembering then to do something she takes out her phone to call Sam, her CFO and best friend, to let her know about the project and the fact that although she will still be working as CEO and taking care of whatever fires need her attention, the rest of the every-day paperwork will go directly to her, as well as any boardroom meetings (thank God for that), as she herself will be busy with the project.

They are animatedly talking about a certain blonde when a streak of red and blue on her TV catch her attention. Supergirl is rescuing several kids from a severe accident, where their school bus was pushed out of the road and down a cliff by a lory speeding out of control, the images are startling, the destruction left behind by the bus rolling down the hill shows very bad premonitions for the kids’ safety and overall health. However, Dreamer and Supergirl are giving all they have to rescue them as soon as possible, the blonde hero is flying the children to safety five at a time, while Dreamer is holding the bus with blue-energy constructs, to keep it from sliding further into the ocean, from the images being shown, she can tell that the young hero is struggling, even though the Super is taking them out at an impressive speed. Emergency services have started arriving and providing first aid to the more severely injured ones, most of the kids have several bruises and cuts, but she can tell, even with how far the camera is, that some are at actual risk, the few ambulances that have arrived and the traffic piling on both directions are a bad premonition to those who were pierced by metallic pieces or have broken bones, particularly broken ribs.

Kara is gritting her teeth together, trying to keep herself as focused as possible, which is hard on the light of the events. The bus had twenty-seven five- to ten-year-olds, most of them managed to hold onto something the moment their transport was pushed off the road and only show minor scratches and bruising. However, there are a few who are severely injured, and Nia is struggling greatly to keep the bus from keep rolling down the hill and into the ocean, as it is quite heavy and the dirt she’s standing on is very unstable, making her slide further helplessly, hence, she cannot fly to a hospital those whose life is at risk, because even though she can fly extremely fast, human composition and physiology wouldn’t withstand such extreme conditions. She can only hope for the best and try to pull them all faster, one problem at a time.

Without thinking twice, the CEO activates a few codes on her computer and a swarm of aid drones are launched from a nearby warehouse. On screen she sees how the drones arrive on site, giving first aid to anyone that needs it and allowing kids to jump out of the bus by their own feet, the older ones helping those who need it or are too young, the bus driver is the most injured one, nevertheless, she has improved her drones from the first time she presented them, and now they can assess a person and act accordingly faster, by the time Supergirl gets to him, his life is no longer in danger, albeit he’s still pretty beaten up. Through the camera of the drones, she sees the hero waving a thanks and then speeding off with the driver to the nearest ambulance, rushing afterwards to move the problem-causing lory out of the way, so that ambulances may leave as fast as possible, otherwise, all the effort put forward by them, the rescue teams and Lena, would be for nothing. Finally moving to Dreamer’s side to lift the bus back into the road where cranes can dispose it properly.

Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, the raven-haired woman drops on her chair, just as the news shift from the rescue efforts to a report on how "a xenophobic group declares war on all aliens", according to an anonymous letter that was sent to the news channel, this groups seeks to fight for their planet, to avoid alien invasion and for humans’ rights, as “aliens are a threat to our way of life”. She feels all blood draining from her face, that sounds an awful lot to what her twisted family believed in, it cannot be though, after Lex was incarcerated, she pulled several strings among the board members, with hard evidence on how Lillian posed a threat to the company, resulting from sharing the same world-domination ideals she pushed onto her son; and thanks to her friends, Sam, Jack and Andrea, helping her buy shares from her mother through shell companies, the woman started losing her spot on the board, eventually being left with absolutely no power over L-Corp, as she owns only about 0.2% of the total shares. That way, Lena prevented her twisted mother from using the company’s resources to do something along the lines of what her brother did, and also from her getting enough money to fund whatever twisted idea of patriotism and ‘right or wrong’ she has. But this, this could very much be their doing, she’ll have to dig into it and make sure that her sick relatives, have nothing to do with it, maybe even find out whoever is actually behind it and put a stop to this nonsense. There is a dread deep in her stomach, that tells her otherwise.

Lena parks her car at the entrance, she is at the direction Kara gave her. She’s wearing black jeans with leather boots and a deep green turtleneck sweater underneath a thigh-high grey coat, as it is the beginning of January and this year’s winter has been quite cold, she can see the puffs of her breath condensing on the air in front of her every time she exhales; the building she’s in front of are the Zor-El Technologies headquarters, she isn’t sure what she was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. The building is big, from the outside she’s certain that they would need a few hundred people to fill it, it has huge floor-to-ceiling windows on every floor, and the glass is, she’s certain, bulletproof (the fuck?), which is quite startling, and polarized, so that someone from the outside can’t see what’s happening on the inside but without preventing sunlight from streaming in, however, from the inside you could clearly see the outside. The only detail that differentiates this building as the one from a tech company is the huge Z hanging on the front from the rooftop. She approaches the glass doors, which slide open as soon as she nears them, and is stunned to see that there is no one, no secretary, no front desk, no security detail; there are a few cameras and the lobby is clean, open-spaced, with dark wooden floors and a few paintings hanging from the wall, in the furthest wall, there is an elevator, and coming out from it, is Kara.

The cheery blonde is wearing denim jeans with heeled ankle boots, making her look a few centimeters taller than the CEO; a light pink polo shirt covered by an open lab coat. She hands the green-eyed woman a card with her name on it, which she assumes is her access card, and is quite surprised to see the easiness with which she was given access to this building, family name aside and knowing that she may not have access to all floors and stuff, it’s still refreshing in a way. She is then led to the elevator, where she swipes her card and presses the button to the first level, where she now knows Kara’s lab is, and where she will be spending a lot of time until the end of this joint project. When the doors open, she gives herself a moment to observe.

There are several workbenches across the space, underneath them all are cabinets that contain chemicals and solvents, she assumes; there are tools scattered messily over some tables, screwdrivers, LED’s, tweezers, mixed oddly with Erlenmeyer flasks, hot plates, test tubes and other glassware. On the furthest left corner, right in front of the windows, is a desk, with a small lamp and a laptop, beside it is a cork board filled with scribbles, notes and drawings from other projects the blonde must be working on. There is soft music playing from a couple of speakers next to the elevator and a big painting of a sunset, she thinks, because of the red-ish color of the sky, on the wall to her right. Again, she’s surprised by the easiness with which Kara has let her into her space, her life, because, as a scientist herself, she knows how hard it is to open the doors of her lab to just anyone, so this small gesture amazes her and fills her with warmth, she feels welcomed, there is a knowing feeling that from now on she’ll feel a lot like that.

Research is hard she knows this, even though the background check, patents, recent developments and discoveries; is already done, the first months of their project have been a bumpy ride, to say the least. Their first experiments have been disastrous, to put it nicely, the nanoparticles vary in size to a level of polydispersity were they don’t fulfill their purpose, the nanobots the genius woman has been trying to develop don’t work, not only do they not do what she’s programmed them to, but they don’t do anything at all and is fucking infuriating. She should be able to do this, designing this kind of technology is not new to neither, particularly to the Irish genius, who has actually developed several nanotechnologies to improve life quality. In spite of that, good things have come up, the aching to know each other better, to find out more about them, paired with their constant failures has given them window to actually do so. And it’s heartwarming.

It starts with an invitation to get lunch together from Kara, after another very terrible outcome, they get on Lena’s car and drive downtown, which is only a few kilometers away from the warehouse. They eat at a Chinese restaurant, the best on National City, according to Kara. Engaging into small talk with the blonde, is easy, Lena finds, there is no judgment coming from her, she just listens, sapphire blue eyes earnest and filled with interest, honest interest, making her feel like she’s the only thing that matters; and gives reassurance whenever the Irish woman needs it, even without her actually voicing it, she just notices. What was meant to be a short lunch, became hours of them talking about everything and nothing, the outside world and that stupid project, vanishing for them. Lavender and citric coffee. Green and blue. Kara finds herself lost in kryptonite green eyes, warm and glinting, and a soft smile, the way her hair falls in dark waves only adding more and more to the softness of the woman in front of her, who has suffered and lost so much, she unknowingly and silently makes it her life’s mission to protect this beautiful human being, vowing to no one but herself to always stand up to that promise.

After a few more lunch dates they start getting close, the pull their hearts experience, stronger than ever. The first time Kara goes forward with a hug as a way to greet the raven-haired genius, Lena stiffens as a rock, not being used to such closeness, it takes her a few more attempts at physical contact but when she gives in, she finds her new favorite place, in the blonde’s arms. There is something about the way Kara hugs her that makes her feel at ease and safe, like a small precious creature that needs to be taken care of, as if she were fragile and invaluable, the scent of vanilla and flowers that she has now come to associate with the woman, dizzying, and her warmth, protecting. She feels certain that no one has ever said so much and yet so little with the simplest wrap of arms. She surely has gotten a little enraptured by her hugs. And her eyes, she’s not sure she’s ever seen bluer eyes than those, and she finds captured by them every single time. At first, she felt like they could be deceiving, however, as time went by, she has come to realize that she can read them like an open book, whether is worry or affection, she knows what Kara is feeling, and she’s now certain that the woman can also read her with that same easiness.

Will she ever get used to this woman’s presence? Somehow, she truly hopes not, is addicting the way the baby hairs at the base of her neck seem to electrify the moment she gets into Lena’s eyeline, how her breathing becomes shallower and everything else in her line-of-sight fades. After more than six months working together, she still loses her bearings every single time the raven-haired woman crosses the doorstep of her lab, it’s been natural, the way she seems to exist in her space, the way the move around each other as if they’ve been doing this for years instead of a few months. She has become attuned to the sound of her heartbeat, knowing the precise instant she arrives at the door of the warehouse, to her constant smell of citrus and coffee, she is now an addict of. Moreover, she’s addicted to her smile, her laugh, the way her dimples show whenever she is actually letting herself feel, long gone is the mask of the no-nonsense, cold-blooded CEO every newspaper feasted on.

Lena, on the other hand, has devoted her entire mind to this project, after the first months of failure, they both started gaining momentum and now they seem unstoppable, the device will still take some time as it is groundbreaking and will move Earth’s technology forward several years; however, their progress is excellent and is going ahead of their own agenda. The Luthor is so enraptured by the project that whenever she’s not working on it, her mind is reeling with possibilities; she can’t help it, she is so excited that whenever a new idea or pathway pops into her mind, she springs out of bed and drives to their lab, Kara’s lab, to keep working. After a few times Kara caught her in there, she made it her new purpose to make sure that the woman eats and sleeps properly, becoming aware of her terrible work habits. For Lena, it’s grounding in a way, the fact that someone actually cares for her, is new, and at first it scared her, but she’s come to realize that it’s deeply rooted into the blonde, she truly cares, and her kindness is blinding.

They have become accustomed to each other, and have started opening more, mostly Lena, since Kara still has a super big secret, she’s yet to come clean. The Kryptonian now knows about all the abuse Lena has endured throughout her life. How even though Lillian never actually hit her, she would still make her hate towards the green-eyed woman very well-known, criticizing every single detail, from her posture, to her eye-color, her freckles and every little imperfection she could find; humiliating her for sins she never committed, like that one time she decided to go to a party, during summer, and returned home soaking wet, as a downpour had broken lose, and Lillian made her cook for her and Lex, with her clothes soaked as punishment, and then berated her for dripping water on the floor, forcing her to clean with a rag and a bucket, on her knees. Kara’s heart broke that time, so badly that she couldn’t stop herself and hugged the woman trying to convey all her support and care. Running her fingers through black strands, whispering tenderly into her ear that it wasn’t her fault and that she is worthy.

Kara knows about the huge betrayal her brother committed that time when he went rouge and tried to kill Superman, using one of her own inventions to synthesize kryptonite and embed it into his Lexosuit. She has never trusted anyone after that. Simultaneously, Lena knows that Kara is adopted, she hasn’t given a lot of information about her life prior to the Danvers, but she’s certain it was horrible and traumatizing, she doesn’t want to pry, but she can tell from the way the light in those blue eyes seem to vanish, like a suffocated candle, the way there is a red glint to them, whenever she mentions that she failed, that she should’ve been better, smarter. And Lena holds her, rubs her back and lets her crumble and cry, she’s certain that this personification of the sun had nothing to do with whatever happened and she needs her to understand that, it’s hard. Without them knowing, their hearts started opening, giving the other a soft spot, always there, prevailing, waiting.

Kara has a drawer filled with snacks. Lena is not ever sure why she is surprised by that when the woman is literally always munching on something, how she doesn’t gain weight, she sure as hell doesn’t know; but there is just something about opening her desk’s drawer, which surface is always filled with scribbles, experiments records and calculations, and find it filled to the brim with snacks, from Poky’s to chips and… is that one of the pastries she bought last month? The CEO shakes her head in disbelief, a loving smile forming on her lips, and tries not to think about it too deeply, she absolutely doesn’t steal a chocolate bar. Sitting on a stool in front of the prototype she’s currently trying to make work, her thoughts inevitably drift to how her life has been for the past months. When she first started working in this lab, she got to know all of Kara’s friends and colleagues, and she was impressed again about the easiness with which they let her in. But being alone in Kara’s lab is something else entirely, it is not the first time this has happened, the blonde sometimes remembers she has to do something last minute and gets to it, leaving Lena on her own. Is a small gesture, but it never fails to turn her into goo, being trusted so blindly by someone so caring, she has seen the blonde playing with kids and eating unhuman amounts of ice cream, she is certain that the woman is the impersonation of goodness and the sun, and it makes her feel something she hasn’t given the time, nor wanted to for that matter, to analyze, shoving everything in little mind boxes, her life is pretty messed up without the added weight of feelings, especially with the whole anti-alien campaign.

She pinches the bridge of her nose to try and lessen the upcoming migraine she can feel the beginnings of. Whoever is behind that letter has been working from the dark, pulling strings here and there and planting the seeds of hatred towards aliens. National City has been one of the main destinations of displaced aliens and there were already growing sentiments before this whole thing, nevertheless, there weren’t any actual actions towards them, there are now. A few protests against the recognition of aliens as citizens has arisen, and there are now several youtubers who ‘state facts’ on how aliens are a threat to the human race, a speech about how aliens are taking their jobs and invading their spaces, how they will come and conquer, and who knows what other bullshit. At first she was sure this little uprising was going to end quite fast, and never really gain strength or followers, she was wrong, it turned out that a lot of humans had resentments towards aliens and this has just spurred them to the surface, many other humans who have lost their jobs to aliens have also joined and now is a very wide movement throughout the city that doesn’t seem likely to go down in the near future and is worrying, this kind of hatred-guided obsessions always escalate to more violence from both sides and who knows what could happen.

Sighing and hoping for the best, she turns around to keep working in her nanobots while Kara arrives and drags her to grab some dinner, smiling to herself at the thought of their now usual routine, where they work together all day, Kara always bringing something for lunch for them and at the end of the day she’d drag the raven-haired genius to either her apartment or the blonde’s and they’d have dinner, if Lena was in the mood she’d cook for them, not letting Kara touch anything, being remitted to chopping, if not they’d just simply order something and then watch some Netflix or another rom-com that Kara needs Lena to know (is general knowledge Lena). It fills her body with goosebumps the way they have gotten close, understanding each other easily, as if it had been always them, forever each other. She’s not usually this cheesy, though.

#supercorp #karlena #lena luthor #supergirl #i am supercorp trash #kara danvers #idiots i swear #please give me feedback #they are actual dorks #we love them

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thirium-fiction · 6 years ago

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Employees Only (Connor x Reader) NSFW

Request: #188 for a Connor x Reader please :)

Word Count: 1.9k+

A/N: Jealous Connor? Jealous Connor.

Warnings: Harassment, Explicit Smut, Swearing

#188: “Mine.”

Connor sat at his desk with his hands in his lap, his back upright as always. He could tell that Hank was saying stuff to him, but he was too distracted as his mind was somewhere else. He glanced up to your desk, seeing a policeman walk up and lean over it, resting his hand right on the table that was filled with unfinished paperwork. He saw you visibly tense while sensing a spike in your heart rate. The android felt his circuitry move just a bit faster at the sight. Was this what annoyance felt like? How could the policeman not see that you were genuinely uncomfortable and absolutely did not want to talk to him? That piece of-

“CONNOR!”

Connor’s head snapped over to Hank who had a look of disapproval on his face. He clearly had been trying to get his attention for a while now.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I was distracted.”

Hank raised a bushy grey eyebrow, “You? Distracted? The fuck could possibly take your attention away from the ‘mission’.” He air-quoted the last word, clearly mocking Connor and his never-ending need to finish a given task.

Connor’s gaze drifted back over to you, who was still being harassed by the same policeman. Hank followed his line of sight and immediately understood.

“Well, get a move on.”

Again, Connor turned back to the older cop, his eyebrows furrowed. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Save the girl. She clearly doesn’t want to be around the fucker. So, help her.”

Hank crossed his arms over his chest as Connor thought it over, his LED blinking in the process. He finally decided to agree with Hank and he got out of seat and walked over to your desk. Hank leaned back in his chair to watch it all play out in front of him.

“Come on, doll face. One date? Don’t play hard to get, now.” The greasy pig said as he attempted to gain access to your pants.

When you were about to reject him yet again, someone cleared their throat behind the man. The policeman turned around to be face-to-face with Connor.

“I apologize but it seems that (Y/N) does not have the face of a small, inanimate toy used by children nor does she want to go out on a ‘date’ with you.” He used air-quotes for the first time after seeing Hank use them for him. No one could miss the wide grin across Hank’s face after he watched Connor do it.

You tried to hold back your laughter behind your hand, but you were failing. The policeman caught this and huffed before stomping off, mumbling about how androids take away everything. You looked up at Connor who was still standing there, “Thank you for that, Connor. I don’t think I could’ve handled much more of his begging.”

He briefly smiled, “I do not think he will be bothering you again. The probability of it happening is very low.”

You giggled, “Well, I’m glad.”

Connor nodded before abruptly turning away and walking back to his desk before you could say any more. As he was walking back he could see Hank shaking his head vigorously and mouthing, “No! No! You damn idiot! Ask her out!”

The android stopped walking and tilted his head, not understanding at first. He glanced back over to you and saw the faintest look of disappointment on your face. Something inside him caused him to turn around and walk back over to you. Your eyes landed on him again and a smile broke out on your face.

“Hello again, (Y/N).” Connor greeted, his arms at his sides. He looked so stiff, but you assumed that was what androids looked like when they stood.

“Hello again, Connor. Was there something you needed?”

He paused opening his mouth, but nothing came out. He looked back over to Hank who was beyond frustrated, trying to tell him to ask you on a date. He turned back to you before saying, “I thought you may like to join me on a…date? I understand why you would not want to considering that- “

“I’d love to, Connor.” You interrupted his ramblings with a small blush, hoping this would happen for some time now. “I’m free after work today. Why don’t we do something then?

He certainly didn’t know you were going to say that.

“A-Alright. I will be looking forward to it.”

You grinned, “Me too.”

He nodded once again before walking back to his seat next to Hank. Hank leaned forward, expecting an answer. Connor didn’t even look at him as he still sat there in a daze.

“She said yes.”

Maybe going to a bar for a first date wasn’t the best idea. Connor didn’t know much about where to take a woman on a date nor did he get out much to know more than a bar or Hank’s house. And the probability of you enjoying a date at Hank’s house was extremely low. But, Hank’s house wouldn’t have a bunch of men trying to hit on you at once, either.

“Ditch the droid. Wouldn’t you want a real man?”

“You know you want to. Come on…”

“I can see the looks your giving me. Don’t be such a tease.”

The comments wouldn’t end causing the thirium within Connor’s circuits to pump faster as he felt himself overheat. He watched as you cowered closer behind him in fear one of the men were going to do something. Just as one of them was going to grab your arm, Connor yanked you back into him, giving the man a dirty look.

“Hey lady, get your maid here under control.”

That’s it.

Connor pulled on your arm towards one of the back rooms, ignoring the protests of the men behind him. Humans were so ignorant. He walked into an empty room labeled, Employees Only, and closed the door behind him but not before turning to the harassers and shouting out, “Mine.”

He locked the door, so no one could get in. He turned to you, taking a moment to realize where you were. It was compact like an unused broom closest but enough to give you both some space. Connor replayed the events over again in his mind and he felt guilty for doing it now.

“I-I apologize, (Y/N). You must feel very uncomfortable and I understand so I will- “

His sentence was cut off by your lips smashing into his.

Connor.exe has stopped working.

He didn’t know what to do. This was a new feeling for him, but he didn’t necessarily want it to stop. His internal fans were whirring trying to cool himself down. You broke the kiss, taking a step back, a horrified look on your face.

“I don’t know what came over me. I- “

Now, your sentence was cut off when Connor slammed his lips into yours. He slowly guided you to the other side of the room, his lips still on yours until your back was up against it. He didn’t know what he was doing but he wasn’t stopping now. He licked your bottom lip and you happily granted him access into your mouth. He explored it, tongues rubbing against each other causing a soft moan from you. Oh, how he loved that sound. He wanted to hear it again. He broke the kiss and moved to your neck. He kissed all the places he could on your neck before he found the spot.

Your sweet spot.

He licked and sucked at the area creating shaky breaths and groans of pleasure to make their way past your lips.

“You like that?” Connor asked, hot air blowing on your neck. All you could do was nod in reply.

Connor smirked as he saw the purple bruise he left that was very visible. That’ll show them. A maid was far from what he was.

He reached behind your back to feel around for a zipper to your dress. Finally finding it, he slowly pulled the zipper down, building up the suspense.

You groaned, “Connor, hurry up.”

Smirking, he replied, “As you wish.”

He yanked the zipper down, earning a gasp from you. It was definitely broken. The fabric fell to the ground, leaving you in only your undergarments. He stepped back to admire the view, looking you up and down. Your blush increased, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

Connor stepped forward again while all he could say was, “Beautiful.”

You didn’t even feel his hands behind your back again but all the sudden your bra was unclipped, and he threw it somewhere across the room, paying little attention to it. He slowly moved his cold hands down your breasts, your nipples immediately perking up at the contact. His lips latched onto one of them, earning a hiss of pleasure from you. Sucking and licking just like he did to your neck, you wondered where he learned all of this.

As he moved his hand across the unoccupied breast, you took his other free hand and moved it to the lower, more needy part of your body. He unlatched himself form you and looked into your eyes for confirmation. You nodded in reply and he quickly got to work. Using his middle finger to rub circles slowly around your clit, he kissed your lips again, swallowing the load groans that were coming from you.

He slowly started to move his finger faster as he sensed your heartrate pick up. This must’ve meant he was doing the right thing. Your breaths started to become shorter and quicker causing you to believe he would just finish you off with one finger.

“C-Connor, I-I’m gonna- “

Before you could continue, he removed his finger from you. He raised it up to his mouth and his tongue licked up the moisture, not daring to break eye contact.

You practically orgasmed right there.

Connor lowered himself onto his knees as he removed your underwear with his index. He spread your legs to gain him access to what he desired. He looked up to you and you should’ve seen yourself. Heavy breaths with a light blush across your cheeks. He could eat you up.

And he was going to.

His tongue darted out and took one long swipe against your womanhood, enjoying the taste and the sound of you moaning his name.

“F-Fuck, Connor…”

You tried desperately to grasp the wall for balance with one hand as the other was deep in his brunette hair, holding his head in place. His tongue found your clit as he swirled it in circles, causing you to scream but you quickly covered it with your hand. He took two fingers and shoved them within you, slowly pumping in and out and picking up pace over time. You could feel the pool in your stomach start to tighten as you were coming close to your climax.

“I-I’m going to cum, Connor. I-I- “

You groaned loudly as you reached your high. He continued through it until you were finished before getting up and reaching eye level with you. You watched him through half-lidded eyes as he had a small smirk on his face. You gained a smirk of your own as you untied his tie, causing him to tilt his head in confusion. You slid it off him before walking behind and securing the cloth against his eyes, blocking his view. With your chest against his back, your hands slid down his own chest as you whispered one line that got him going,

“My turn.”

[masterlist]

#detroit become human #connor x reader #dbh connor #detroit become human x reader #bryan dechart #thirium smut #smut

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nowitsdarkfic · 5 years ago

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chapter five (a leonard cohen afterword)

”Give me a Leonard Cohen afterword, so I can sigh eternally.” -”Penny Royal Tea”, Nirvana

November 19, 1988. Somewhere near Manhattan, New York.

I have the copy of After the Watershed tucked underneath the interior of my jacket to keep it totally out of sight. I made a vow to Maya, and if this, confining my eyes to her writing while hiding it from Lars, then it’s a deal. I must protect her. I must take a little peek into her musings and figure it out for myself. Lars can help me more if he wishes: here, I’m getting yet another free little window into her mind.

I slip into the spindly barstool right next to Dominique: to her left is Nancy, then followed by Lars. I don’t know if I can share this new edition with these two ladies but it’s better if I keep it under wraps. I feel the card stock making up the front cover brushing against the armpit of my shirt. I hope I can steal a moment under these bold neon lights in order to read it.

The bar meanwhile is comprised of wood that’s about the color of molasses and is also so clean that I can eat right off of the surface. It smells of fresh lemons with maybe a kiss of whiskey. Right in front of us stands a display of wine and whiskey bottles: in front of me is a rich dark brown bottle of sarsaparilla next to another bottle of root beer. I’m still promising myself not to drink especially after what happened in New Orleans.

Every so often I take a glimpse to my left to make sure the three of them are not paying any attention to me. Then again, if I get any questions, I could probably wave it off but who knows how this is going to work. I’m about ready to slip it out from under my coat lining when Maya herself saunters out from behind the bottles with a black apron in hand. Her black waves drift behind her head with each step; and then she freezes right before us.

“Maya, what—?” Lars sputters out, and she recoils at the sight of him. I gape at her while Dominique and Nancy are sitting there next to me in stunned silence.

“I—didn’t know you worked here?” I’m almost at a loss for words.

“I did for a little while and then the bartenders all went on strike,” she explains to us as she’s tying the apron behind her back. Must be the other reason why she came back East. “I was offered to be a bar back but I’d rather serve instead because writing only does so much for me. girl needs to make a living somehow.”

“Couldn’t agree more...” Nancy’s voice trails off. Seems legitimate, though.

“What may I get for the—“ She swallows at the sight of Lars. “—four of you?”

“I’ll—have a beer,” Lars starts.

“Cosmo,” Nancy adds.

“A lemon drop,” says Dominique.

“Sarsaparilla—you got anything to eat?” I ask her in one fell swoop.

“We have pasta and potstickers,” she replies, her voice lightening at the sight of me.

“I say we have both,” Dominique suggests.

“We can each have pasta,” Nancy elaborates, “and we can have a platter of potstickers right here in front of us.”

Maya then nods her head at us, and flashes a raised brow at me. I still have the zine tucked under my arm as she steps back around the display when Lars leans back with his hands upon the top of the bar.

“Man, that was left-field,” I remark, clasping onto the edge of the zine cover.

“Tell me about it,” he mutters, running his fingers through his hair, “I was not expecting that. Not expecting that at all.”

Once the words escape his lips, she returns with a big silver platter of big potstickers, each of them crispy looking and golden brown on the outside. There’s got to be at least a dozen here as she plunks it down before us.

“—or that, for that matter.”

“Holy shit, this is a lot of potstickers,” I declare as she reaches under the bar for four polished silver forks. She bows her head as she hands one to Lars, but she leans in closer to my face as she gives me the fourth and final one.

“Eat up for me,” she whispers to me. “Please.” I swallow as she steps back to make our drinks. The three of them watch her in stunned silence which gives me the chance to read this new edition of After the Watershed. I slip it out from underneath my jacket and hold it down on the stool next to me so it’s out of sight and I don’t have to eat with one hand.

Using the neon lights around us, and using my left hand to eat up the potstickers, I take a look at the first passage, written in grayish typewriter ink:

“I had the misfortune of using up all the money I had put away following the bartenders’ strike in Manhattan and the Bronx as part of promoting my own writing. Trying to be like Bruce Pavitt of Subterranean Pop indeed has its pitfalls if I might say so myself.”

Well, that explains that.

“If you must ask why I decided to pick up the job of bartender in the filthy river that is downtown New York City, it’s to escape my old life. I was held captive in my own childhood home and I decided to not have another minute with it.”

Maya herself then returns with a big bowl of vermicelli for me and a glass masonry jar filled with whitish flakes.

“Parmesan?” she offers me.

“Eh, just a little dusting.”

She sprinkles some over the pasta before moving onto Dominique. I continue reading:

“The story is that I escaped from Massachusetts in order to find my sister given she was on a book tour in the Northeast. Candace traveled away from the Boston area because she knew of everything there. She knew the territory all too well and thus she avoided going there.”

I raise an eyebrow at that. That doesn’t make sense. Meanwhile, this pasta is smooth and embedded with lots of garlic butter just how I like it. Keep going...

“I worried that the circuitry would break with the bitter upstate New York cold but I need to say that a lack of anesthesia leaves quite the memory.”

That still doesn’t make any sense.

“Lack of anesthesia.” Maybe there’s more to that third eye scar than I originally thought. But “circuitry” is what’s throwing me. Yeah, there was that weird glint if neon light in her pupils but it could’ve just been a reflection of the neon lights behind us. Maybe I’m just overthinking things. Maybe I’m about ready to close this and focus on filling my belly because I kinda wish she’d have elaborated more because this is a little baffling.

But with every word I’m taking in from her, I’m taking a bite of pasta. Every so often I reach over to the separate platter for a potsticker but I’m mostly fixated on these intricate silky little noodles. Never came to a bar that also served pasta and potstickers before.

I also never came anywhere that sells food where they give second helpings, either. Before I can even so much as reach the bottom of the bowl, she returns with a big pot of vermicelli and puts in more with the plastic tongs. I take a sip of sarsaparilla and continue on with reading:

“But by some miracle I managed to press on throughout New York and found my job. I was there for a couple of months and then the strike happened. That was my chance to catch up with Candace. It was definitely a difficult task given I was reported missing and had I surfaced, I would’ve been dragged back to the very shithole I was trying to escape from.”

And I’m officially glad I didn’t take her to the police. I guess it must have been pretty brutal in order for both her and Candace to want to leave. Makes me wonder what kind of home they lived in. I also think back to what Molly told me and Lars in how she suggests it to be cabin fever. I’m not buying it as I take more bites of vermicelli. I can feel myself getting full but it’s just so damn good.

“I traveled across the outskirts of the city, heading out to a little town called Monticello where I lay low for about three days. There was only one television to be found in the whole town and that was the diner I scrounged at. I decided to leave because I knew I would be found. And so I traveled through the backwoods of upstate New York, trying to find my sister and the golden ticket out of my old life. I got about as far as Syracuse when I realized I had only just enough money to squeak me out to a city called Rochester but it was a stretch. I wound up in Syracuse with the few American dollars in my pocket and I spent them on a bag of nuts because I was getting hungry. I kept going until I ran out of fuel about a mile outside of a town called Oswego.”

So she got there and I found her on accident. Holy shit.

Maya herself returns to me with a third helping of pasta, and she’s giving me a lot in the helpings, too. I hope I don’t fall asleep eating because I wanna know more.

“My memory is a bit foggy but I do recall walking through the pouring rain towards a church. A block ahead of that was a Denny’s restaurant so if nothing, I figured I could scrounge behind the restaurant and then camp out at the church. But before I could go any further past the front door of the church, a black haired pastor told me to come inside. I told him thank you and I kept walking. I don’t remember anything after that, except when I woke up, I was being cradled in the arms of the most wonderful man. I was weak and the thought of food made me—and still makes me—sick to my stomach. I don’t know what happened to me, but there I was, face to face with two beautiful brown eyes, as brown as the earth. I was cradled against the loveliest body, as soft as a pillow and yet as strong as I could ever imagine a man to be. He called himself Joey and he is undoubtedly the most beautiful man in the world because he saved my life.”

There’s a part of me that wants to cry but I can’t because the three of them will want to know. There’s also all the food she gave us. I drink down the rest of the sarsaparilla and groan inside of my throat.

“Wow,” Nancy breathes a sigh of relief. Dominique leans forward over the top of the bar with the side of her head resting in her hand.

“Oh, God, I’m so full—“ Lars groans, leaning back in the stool and rubbing his belly. And I am, too: I set down my fork and lean back to lay a hand on my stomach, which is very warm and very firm. I’m surprised the lower part of my belly isn’t poking out a little bit because come to think of it, I ate a ton of food, all those potstickers and three big helpings of vermicelli with lots of garlic and butter. Then again, Maya did give us a lot of food.

So that’s her story: I found her by accident all because she wants to be reunited with her sister. But that still doesn’t explain why she came back here to the City, though. That also doesn’t explain what actually happened to her in Boston. Or outside of the church, for that matter.

I have so many more questions, and I’m feeling so full that it’s going to be a while before I can ruminate it much less consider seeing Sebastian Bach and Company. I let out a low whistle when I catch a glimpse of writing at the bottom of the page next to my fingers. I give my belly a massage as I crane my neck forward for a better look at this afterword:

“That night I had a dream about him. I am sincere when I say his body is the most beautiful I have ever seen. He’s like a searchlight, caressing over me with his indigenous radiance and bathing me with his gentleness. He exposed me, with the rope slagged around my ankles like an umbilical cord. In my dream, I approached him while he was in bed. I wanted to come closer to him, to love him and hold him in the way he did with me. I touched his face and approached his dark delicate lips when he whispered ‘I want you to give to me’ before kissing my neck. I woke up before I realized I had moved so close to him. Oh.. how I wish to feel him again, in all his warmth and softness.”

I then lift my head to catch a glimpse of her peeking around the corner of the display at me. I still have my hand rested upon my stomach, so very warm. And I don’t know what to think, besides what Lars is telling me.

“Joey, I’m gonna need you and Dominique to help me outside. My legs are like lead...”

I close the booklet and tuck it under the interior of my jacket again. I sit up and I feel heavy. I’m skinny but I feel so heavy. I look at Maya again and she’s eyeing my body.

And I still don’t know what to think.

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the-canary · 6 years ago

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Sunburst - S.R (7/10)

Summary: After years of solitude, you sought out the color of life – you just didn’t think it would end up like this. (Enhanced!Reader/Steve Rogers).

Prompt: “I think I just asked you out on a date.”

Masterlist

A/N: This is for @captain-ariel-barnes writing challenge. We are getting closed to the end and the revelations of the MC’s background, please enjoy Tony’s chapter! As always, I am sorry if it sucks.

Feedback is always appreciated.

It starts before you even plan on going, the thought so many people around you send shivers down your spine like spider webs. You don’t paint for anything, just sit in the silence of your painting room for days. The dreams made of color are coming back stronger than before, which only causes your headaches to come back stronger than ever before. You knew this was a possibility when you took up the Avengers project, but you didn’t expect it to hurt this much.

You hate your powers and though you had accepted the hurt, you still disliked being around people.

My diamond. My dear girl, you’ll change everything for us.

You groan at the memory, ready to scream as pink darkens to nearly a solid red, but before anything else can happen a voice echoes loudly--

“Mr. Stark has agreed to be shadowed for the following week,” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice rings out in the little room, as you groan in acceptance.

You let out a choked sob, as you can hear someone knocking at the door but you can’t find the will to get up or say anything at the moment. You were going to into the city for the first time in a long time, and you knew deep down this wouldn’t turn out well.

If you need anything, just holler. We’re not that far away.

It’s only been a couple of hours since you had been picked up by the driver you have meet before --Happy?-- but you are already trying to find a million different ways to ground yourself at the onslaught of color that begins to blur as you enter the city. Streaks of colors and flashes of all kinds of emotions make you feel nauseous, as you lean against the window and groan.

You try to think of Wanda’s cooking and her subtle smile with Vision. You hope that the sound of Sam’s laughter drowns out everything else. You try to take yourself to the grassy area and the smell of wood and flowers that you were so used to, but also a smell of aftershave and cologne that you were sure belonged to Captain Rogers.

You let out a steady sigh, as the car stops and Happy declares with a cautious green light: “Welcome to the Avengers Tower!”

You get out the back of the car, starting at the dark monochrome glory in front of you with a frown, as you try your hardest to ignore that glittering colored lights moving on the sidewalks. You pull your canvas bag closer to you than before, in a means to protect yourself.

“How are you enjoying New York?” Pepper can’t help but ask, as the three of you share a quick breakfast in their shared floor level in the Avengers Tower. You were supposed to follow Mr. Stark for the whole week, the first two were full with board meetings and time with Pepper Potts -- not that it bothered you.

“Not much,” you remark as her red flounders for a bit in worry, “I’m really more of a country gal.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be back in no time,” Tony grins, as you can’t help but be for a confused for a moment, “I am sure a certain Captain is missing you right now.”

You raise a curious eyebrow at this statement, as Pepper glares at her fiance. Outside of that, breakfast moves forward without a hitch, as you come to realize the sight of the couple, as their colors pop and mingle in response to each other is extremely relaxing. It lulls you into a false sense of security for those business meetings you are suppose to be shadowing.

Men with darker colors that send chills up your spine, though there are those that shine like the sun as they talk about finance and the new philanthropy that Stark Industries is looking towards creating for the city and beyond that. Everyone sparkles in their own way, especially Mr. Stark, even when he isn’t talking but one bright, determined light outshines everyone else.

It isn’t until close to end of the second day when you realize that all you had been sketching or designing had been related to Pepper Potts in some way, but Tony had and honestly he couldn’t blame you. So, at the end of the last meeting, when you are ready to head back to the Tower and they are going to grab a late dinner, he stops you.

“You know,” Tony starts off with a smile, “I am sure Pepper would be thrilled if you ever decided to create something personally for her.”

You smile just how his shade of red changes to match her own -- love really was a beautiful thing.

“I’m already thinking about it, Mr. Stark,” you declare softly, as you had already been thinking about seashells and autumn leaves back from upstate New York.

“Ah, good job, kid.”

You spend the next couple of days shadowing Mr. Stark on his own -- watching him do a number of philanthropist events, giving speeches here and there, hanging out with Dr. Banner in the lab (much to your confusion), and endless tinkering with his suits as if he preparing for a mission, even though he --like Captain Rogers-- were in limited capacity to what they could thanks to the Accords.

You think in reds and different shades of gold with bright flashes of circuitry on what you could create in regards to Tony Stark. You didn’t think everyday gray would be important until Friday afternoon when he has you sitting in some rehabilitation building. You look around for a moment, as Mr. Stark tells you to wait.

That’s when you see it -- gray with a red core are burns intensely. You try stop yourself from gaping at the sight of Colonel James Rhodes, as he walks up to you with a warm and familiar smile with Tony simply introduces him as Rhodey.

“Ah, you’re the artist Pepper and S--” Rhodey starts off, only to have Tony give him a look, “I mean, Pepper and Tony are so fond off. Finally good to put a name to the face.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Colonel Rhodes,” you admit, as he pulls out his hand for you to shake it. You return it only to feel something you had never felt before.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Something akin to rocky candy pops on your skin, as you shake hands with the man. He gives you a questioning look, gray moving in a way you had never seen before, but you simply smile and try to stay come at whatever might be happening. You say nothing and neither does Rhodey, as Tony moves forward with telling you stories of their youth together. However, you keep your body more reigned in than before.

You feel that your aversion to seeing people’ colors has calmed down during the week, but you have grown scared of touching anything since the incident with Colonel Rhodes. You haven’t slept well since you have been trying to figure out exactly what was going on with you, though now you were trying to figure out why the shy Stark intern had such a strange pattern of light red -- in thin strips and entangled together, like a spider’s web. However, before you can do anything else, he’s out the door with a nervous chuckle and a wave.

Peter Parker was a strange, though endearing kid.

“Are you going tonight’s party?” Mr. Stark’s voice takes you out of your thoughts, as he smile for a bit at the sight of spiders drawn on the corners of your sketchpad.

“I don’t think that’s good idea, Mr. Stark,” you complain lightly, as Tony just shakes his head. “Especially if you want to make me some type of special guest, I really don’t like that type of stuff.”

“ Just like, ” Tony sighs out, as you stare at him in confusion,”Look, I won’t out you, especially before the project is over. But, wouldn’t it be nice to take a break?”

You frown for a moment, knowing that he has a point and he is paying you but you know something bad will come out of this -- it always does.

You agree nonetheless to see Mr. Stark give you a cheeky grin and a pop of flashy red for a job well done.

An hour, you last one whole hour between the twirling lights and endless darkness of the party before someone tries to grab you.

It burns, as you let out a silent scream and proceed to leave the room, running towards where you had been staying in the Avengers Tower, unaware that someone was watching the whole time.

Steve arrives to the Towers towards the weekend after a short mission and while he is tired, he is also excited to be back home and if he was being truthful -- to have a certain someone near the city as well. Steve knew that you were more accustomed to the New York countryside, but he was still that kid from Brooklyn and was hopeful to maybe show you around the city -- to show you the some new things and what he had learned since coming out of the ice. But, it seemed like Tony had other plans for you.

Steve begins to settle in for the night after the debrief when he hears it. The rush of a familiar set of footsteps as a certain someone runs to where one of the many bathrooms is located. Mother hen mode kicking in, Steve grabs a water bottle and a towel before running to where you are-- his sensitive hearing picking up the retching sounds and he can’t help but wonder what had happened.

He picks up his pace, only to see the bathroom door is open and you are sitting on the floor next to the opening of the shower. Steve wishes there was better time to tell you how pretty you look in that navy blue dress, but your safety overrides everything else at the moment. You are letting out heavy breathes and there are tears running down your face, as you let out a small moan of pain.

“Hey, hey,” Steve walks into the bathroom and kneels at your side,”What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Too much feeling, c-color, ” you manage to say, but it doesn’t make much sense to him.

You grasp his hand and groan at the worry and mixed bag of emotions that you suddenly feel, as his blue wanes from dark to light blue like an ocean might. You sigh at the familiarity of it all, but you’re still too hypersensitivity from the party to do anything more, as Steve starts to question.

“Did you eat or drink something?” Steve asks cautiously, as you shake your head.

“Is it because of your powers?” he asks again, as you place his cool hand on your cheek. Steve can’t help but double over for a moment at the sudden wave of nauseous he’s feeling, as you give him a soft smile -- almost in relief that some of the feeling has left you.

You only nod meekly, before blacking out completely.

Part 8

#captainarielbarnes4k #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers au #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fan fic #steve rogers fanfic #series: sunburst #fabiola trying to write

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ayearofpike · 6 years ago

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Spooksville #22: The Creepy Creature

Pocket Books, 1998 112 pages, 12 chapters ISBN 0-671-00270-8 LOC: CPB Box no. 1474 vol. 13 OCLC: 39525120 Released August 1, 1998 (per B&N)

A slime monster has eaten and absorbed Bryce Poole. Cindy Makey is the only one to have seen it happen, and when they find Bryce in the woods it’s naturally hard to believe her. But Bryce is acting different. Strange. And when he slimes out of his bed and tries to attack his other friends, they realize Cindy was telling the truth, and they have to go back into the woods to stop these creatures from invading and multiplying. But the trail leads back to a land that they’ve heard of before, and the slime monsters are only a small part of it.

This fuckin’ book gave me whiplash. We’ll get there. But I’m not convinced that Pike was totally happy with the beginning. A lot of the searching and talking is somewhat haphazardly written (like this blog), like he just didn’t care about that part and wanted to get on to the good stuff (like this blog). With two more Spooksvilles coming down the lane, he must have seen the light at the end of the tunnel and been ready to be done. Hmm, where have we seen that before.

It’s fortuitous that I closed my last post talking about Bryce and Cindy and their feels, because this one opens with them walking in the woods alone together. Cindy is trying to drop hints that maybe she’s interested in Bryce, but Bryce is too busy being a twelve-year-old boy with a savior complex to really understand what’s being said. It doesn’t really matter, because this ... THING oozes up behind him and starts reaching tentacles. They try to run, and for a minute they think they’re safe, but then it lunges out from behind a bush and totally absorbs Bryce. Cindy has no choice but to run.

She finds her friends — where else — eating donuts, and tells them what happened to Bryce. After a quick pit stop at the army surplus for flamethrowers (like, this fuckin’ town, man), they hike up to the caves where the creature first appeared. And they run into Bryce, who says that he walked into a monster spider web and the spider in it must have scared Cindy away. Which ... bullshit, because these guys know Cindy and she’s seen a lot worse than a goddamn spider. But he insists that now he’s tired and wants to go home, so they just follow him.

They split up back in town. Adam and Watch have to return the flamethrowers, but then they part ways too, and Adam is almost home for dinner when Cindy leaps out of a bush and insists they go confront Bryce now, because Bryce is not Bryce. She knows what she saw, and even throws in a tidy little The Thing reference to try to make Adam understand. He still doesn’t totally believe her, but agrees to go along and stake out the house. Bryce isn’t there yet, but when he does get home he takes off all his clothes and oozes across the bed. So now Adam is convinced.

What to do? Maybe they can burn it. Bryce happens to have several gas cans in his garage, and the house goes up without an argument. Only — oh shit! — he got out, and is now going to grab and turn both Adam and Cindy. This doesn’t last too long, because Watch has been tailing them with his flamethrower that he checked back out I guess, like the army surplus in Spooksville is a lending library, and he torches The Blob Formerly Known as Bryce into so much melted Jell-o.

So just like Harry Potter, these kids gotta go fighting battles that nobody else is willing to back. They wake Sally and get more flamethrowers, then make their way up to the caves. Watch decides they need to follow the one with the most slime around the opening, because duh, and they take it down. And down. And down. And eventually it starts opening up and spreading out and being lit by a strange green light, almost like there’s a sky with a nebulous light source over the top of this massive cavern, which is so big that even Pike seems to forget they’re fucking underground.

They bump into another slime creature, which grabs Sally’s ankle but otherwise seems to have no interest in ingestion. Watch decides to get a better angle on burning it away, so he climbs a tree and shoots straight down. Of course, this pisses the creature off, and before Watch can do much damage it lashes out and grabs him and takes off. So the other kids gotta follow, right?

They smell smoke and see hints of activity in the distance, but before they can get really close a rock comes chasing after them. Literally — it’s a big ass rock monster, running straight at Sally. Why does she keep getting targeted down here? Before she can even scream, this purple laser shoots out of nowhere and blows it up. The wielder is a beautiful young woman with purple hair, dressed for combat in that way male artists do female superheroes: breast plate, bare arms, bare legs, high boots. Come to think of it, the warrior princess in The Dangerous Quest was dressed much the same. Frickin’ Pike.

The woman says that they need to go with her to the control center of her city, because the rock monsters are taking over and they’re not safe out here. She doesn’t seem to know anything about the slime monsters, which is weird if this is where they came from. You see the hard turn this storyline just took? Whiplash.

Watch pops out of a bush, or at least he thinks he’s Watch. The others keep a careful eye on him, but they’re not ready to just kill, because he’s saying all the right things and in that analytical way Watch has. But he’s naked, because the slime creature stole his clothes, so Adam has to give up his shirt for Watch’s modesty (which he takes as another sign that it’s really Watch; would a slime monster care if you could see its ding-dong?). They make it to the control center, and the warrior takes them straight to the top, where there’s an old man — and Bryce.

And yes, it’s really Bryce, the old man confirms. He’s been brought here by the slime creature, which the man created, to fight for the sake of Lemuria. Yeah, did you figure it out? Somehow the cave took them to this underwater continent, which might explain the green light if it’s all sealed off overhead. But the slime creatures were meant to only duplicate fighters, not to hurt their targets or try to do stuff on their own, so it should be all OK. Still, sometimes our creations go awry and do things we don’t expect. The old man acknowledges as much, with a knowing glance at the warrior (who of course is his child).

The old guy says that the rock monsters are aliens coming up from the deep, where they’ve lived more or less peacefully, because Lemuria is shifting and crowding their domain. So now the rock monsters want to take over not just the undersea continent, but all of them. The only way to stop them is to overload the security shield on the control center when the rocks have gotten close enough, which will blow both the locals and the invaders sky-high. Nobody seems upset about this, but obviously our human friends don’t want to die in someone else’s war. It so happens that there’s a hidden high-speed train that can take them back to the mouth of the tunnel that brought them down here. But Adam insists that the girl come with them and escape, and live out the rest of her life even though she doesn’t seem to know what that means.

As they hit the tunnel, the whole cavern is rocked by an explosion, meaning the Lemurians are dead. Not so for the rock monsters, at least not the two who hung back here just in case. The warrior is rattled into dropping her weapon as she fights them, and Sally picks it up. And levels it at her friends.

That’s right, fuckers! Sally’s been a slime creature this whole time! Slime-Bryce turned her before he went home, and she tied the real Sally up in the garage. Only now they all know too much and she better just kill the Spook Squad before moving on to her master plan of taking over the world by making more slime creatures. She aims the gun at Adam and pulls the trigger — but the warrior leaps in front of the laser, taking the blast and still having enough strength (which is amazing; remember this is a laser that VAPORIZED A ROCK) to turn the pistol back on Slime-Sally, who immediately evaporates.

How did she do it? Well, when she finally does fall, Adam turns her over — and sees wires and circuitry inside her chest. Somehow from here he makes the leap that all of the people in Lemuria must have been robots, which is why they didn’t cry over sacrificing themselves. And it’s too late to repair this robot, but at least she dies having known friends, which is so sappy I don’t actually believe it. Like, has Adam actually fallen for some robot babe in a couple of hours, so hard that he’s going to mourn her robot chassis unto eternity? Feh, says I.

Two more to go! Can I make it? Not right now, because I have to sleep!

#spooksville #spookstober

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imjustthemechanic · 6 years ago

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The French Mistake

Part 1/? - A Visitor Part 2/? - The Kulturhistorisk Museum Heist Part 3/? - Cutscene Part 4/? - The Marvel Cinematic Universe Part 5/? - Breathless Part 6/? - Escape at Last Part 7/? - Fox in Socks Part 8/? - Things Go Wrong Part 9/? - Downey and Out Part 10/? - Road Trip Part 11/? - Temptation Part 12/? - An Awful Reunion Part 13/? - Unreality Intrudes Part 14/? - A Call for Help Part 15/? - Loki’s Guests Part 16/? - Stan Lee Cameo Part 17/? - Reassessment Part 18/? - Midnight Invasion Part 19/? - Elevator Fight Part 20/? - Courage Part 21/? - Unwelcome Back Part 22/? - Darkest Hour Part 23/? - They Are Here Part 24/? - The Jet Propulsion Laboratory Part 25/? - Word of God Part 26/? - Avengers Assembled Part 27/? - The Houston Underground Part 28/? - Houston has a Problem Part 29/? - Onward and Upward Part 30/? - The Chi’Tauri Queen Part 31/? - Through the Wormhole Part 32/? - Prisoners Part 33/? - Arm’s Length

At last, somebody who can fight.

The brig did have doors, of course – multi-layered reinforced ones that were currently standing wide open because all the prisoners were supposed to be safely in their tubes. They’d slammed shut when Thor got the first one open, but now, to Steve’s horror, they ground open again, and rows of troops started marking in, weapons at the ready. Thor held out a hand, glanced at it, and then at Hemsworth.

“Where is Mjolnir?” he asked.

Hemsworth shook his head. “That thing weighs a bloody ton! I couldn’t budge it!”

Thor had been so proud that none of his comrades could lift the hammer at Stark’s party. Now he was desperately disappointed. “You’re not worthy?” he asked.

“Of course I’m not!” said Hemsworth.

“I have to do everything myself!” grumbled Natasha. She scooped up a plasma rifle from one of the fallen guards and turned on the shield function. Scarlett crawled over to her and grabbed her leg, like Princess Leia in the very oldest and cheesiest posters for Star Wars. A very wise move. Steve would have done the same, but there would have been nobody to guard the unconscious Loki.

“What is going on?” asked Evans.

This was the first time he’d spoken. It was a bit startling to hear him… so that was what Steve sounded like to other people. He always thought of himself as having a higher-pitched voice, one that would match the skinny little body he’d been born with. The one he heard now was deep and authoritative even when it was also frightened.

“We’re about to be killed by aliens, that’s what’s going on!” Nat tossed him her plasma rifle. “Shield function is the button on the bottom!”

He caught it, looked surprised at himself, then turned it on. The air shimmered pink around him. “Right,” he said. “Nothing I haven’t done a hundred times while I was awake.” And he turned and charged at the Chi’Tauri.

“Wait!” Steve protested, but it was too late. Evans took off too fast to follow, and knocked the first alien right off its feet. Others fired at him, but he turned around, holding up the plasma rifle in front of him as if it were literally a shield, rather than just the source of one. The man had trained as a gymnast, Steve quickly realized as he watched him fight. He was surprisingly graceful, but did not know his own strength – or rather, the strength of Steve’s body. He put all his weight behind a punch when he should have saved his strength, and leaned into his kicks like a ballerina.

He’d said nothing I haven’t done while I was awake. He thought he was dreaming and therefore could not be hurt. But did he know Steve’s own limits the way Steve himself did?

Was this what Steve himself looked like to everybody else, just rushing into battle without a thought for his own safety or anybody else’s? No wonder Peggy thought he was a self-sacrificing wanker!

It was soon plain that Evans did not know Steve’s limits. He was trying to take on the whole damn Chi’Tauri army at once. The shield function on his plasma rifle soon gave out from absorbing too many blows, fizzling out just as Loki’s had on the grass, so he started using the metal to deflect the incoming bolts. This worked better than Steve would have expected, but began putting holes in the side of the gun. Somebody had to go in there and help, but Steve himself couldn’t do it, Loki and Hiddleston were unconscious, Natasha was in no shape to fight and Scarlett might leave that all to stuntwomen…

Hemsworth cracked his knuckles. “Right,” he said, and rolled up his sleeves. “I got this.”

“How can you got this without Mjolnir?” demanded Thor.

“Taika’s sent me a couple of preliminary scripts for feedback,” Hemsworth said. “I got this. Evans!” he shouted. “Or Cap or whoever you are! Get out of the way!”

Evans paused with a Chi’Tauri breastplate in each hand, and watched as Hemsworth planted his feet and made fists. His teeth gritted… and to Steve’s astonishment, whatever he was doing worked. His jeans and red sweatshirt transformed into Thor’s armor and cape, and lightning fizzled around him.

Evans quickly slammed the two Chi’Tauri’s heads together and dived out of the way. Did he know what Hemsworth was about to do, or only that it was obviously dangerous to be in the way of it?

Hemsworth held up both hands, and then made a motion like pitching a baseball. A tremendous bolt of lightning burst out, blowing the Chi’Tauri away. The lights in the room went out in a shower of sparks, and Steve felt his scalp prickle and his muscles involuntarily twitch. He tasted copper.

A moment later, emergency lights came back on. Those of the Chi’Tauri troops who weren’t dead or unconscious were fleeing. Everybody’s hair was standing up in halos around their heads. Eyes were wide and mouths were open, but nobody’s more so than Thor’s.

“I… did not know I could do that,” he said.

Hemsworth was panting, electricity still on his fingertips, the edge of his cape on fire. “Okay, that might have been a little extra,” he admitted, and took a second look at Thor. “What did you do to my face?”

Thor reached up to touch it. “The welts are from the jelly-fish,” he said. “The rest is fighting the Chi’Tauri since. How did you…”

“Guys!” said Natasha.

The power outage had turned off all the stasis cells. All around them, creatures were staggering out, ranging from a ten-foot-tall reptilian beast to a waist-high creature that looked like nothing so much as a duck in a leisure suit. One bald being was wearing sunglasses and had a droopy mustache, and looked rather shockingly like Stan Lee.

The one that approached them was a human sized and roughly human-shaped creature in a long coat, whose entire body appeared to be made of blue crystals. “Who are you?” it demanded of them.

Evans came back to re-join the others. Hemsworth’s lightning had scorched his hair and he was panting and was going to have a black eye, but he was alive. “I, uh, I think we’re the Avengers,” he said. “Earth’s mightiest heroes?”

Stark called them that, mostly sarcastically. Evans spoke the phrase as if he wasn’t sure he believed it, but was prepared to try to live up to it. There was something terribly comforting about that.

The crystal creature grinned, showing off shiny black teeth that may have been made of obsidian, and shook his hand. “These here space rats have had me and my crew locked up for the better part of a month!” he said. “Shall we show ‘em what they get, boys, for messin’ with the Ravagers?”

“Yeah!” a chorus went up from the other former prisoners.

Steve felt a smile spread across his face as he realized that finally things were starting to go right. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do.”

The crystalline Ravager leader looked from Evans to Steve and back again. “There supposed to be two of all of you?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” said Evans.

“Yes,” said Steve. “It’s a long story. All right, we have to get back to the ship we came in on. I’m guessing you guys do, too. Ours is docked down with the Leviathans.”

“They got ours in a cargo bay, up top,” said the crystal being.

“Great,” said Steve. “You go that way, we’ll go down, and we’ll keep them busy on two fronts at once.”

“Sounds like a plan,” the crystal being agreed. “All right, boys…”

From somewhere among the crowd came a clearing throat. The source was a being that was either a cyborg or just a robot, built to look like a beautiful woman but having taken quite a bit of damage since that point. She’d been patched up with scrap metal in several places, and half of her head was bald, with only a plastic shell over the circuitry beneath.

“Sorry!” said the crystal being. “Boys and Miss Alpha-Eleven-Three! Let’s give ‘em the hell they asked for!”

The Ravagers got to work stripping the weapons from the fallen Chi’Tauri. There were others among the prisoners who had not been part of the pirate crew, but the crystal being cheerfully swore them in. They were all here for being enemies of the Chi’Tauri, so they would probably get along. When a second, better-armed wave of soldiers arrived, they were just in time to be confronted by two dozen furious pirates opening fire. The one who looked like San Lee gave a weird, yodeling battle cry.

The Chi’Tauri returned fire, and while everybody else was distracted by the fighting, the Avengers made their way through the middle of the fray. Hemsworth went first, trying to control the lightning powers Thor had been unaware of, and not always succeeding. Weapons on both sides sparked and smoked as he went by, and Miss Alpha-Eleven-Three made a horrible electronic screaming noise. Behind Hemsworth was Evans, carrying Loki, and Thor, helping Hiddleston walk. Last were Natasha and Johansson, supporting Steve between them.

“Excuse us,” said Evans, as they ducked around and behind fighting Ravagers and Chi’Tauri. “Pardon me! Coming through! Can we just… thank you!”

“Is he Canadian?” Steve asked. That would be an entertaining irony.

“Only in spirit,” said Johansson.

Outside the brig, they piled back into the elevator. Steve reached out and pulled the handle, and they started moving – in the wrong direction, going up. Steve muttered a curse, and turned the handle around to pull it again. The elevator stopped, and then moved down. That was better. He counted the rings of light as they passed.

“Seven…” he murmured. “Eight… nine! Here!” Another yank on the handle brought the elevator to a stop. The doors opened on the Leviathan dockage.

There was a welcoming committee waiting to greet them. Not only were the elevators surrounded by Chi’Tauri, but the roof of the hallway moved and then whirred open, plates rotating and folding like bizarre and alien origami, and the enormous queen stepped down from above.

They did have one advantage – the opening to admit the queen was on their left. “Go right,” he ordered. “Our Leviathan is the one with the blue panel!” What that actually meant was no longer relevant. What mattered was that it would be easy to find, and the queen couldn’t go that way because the ceiling was too low.

That was why she had the troops, though, and they clustered on the right, seeking to drive the escaped Avengers towards their mistress. Steve couldn’t fight them any more than he could have on the way in, but now he had somebody who could.

“Evans,” he said. “Get one of their weapons again – but don’t let the ones with the staves shoot you, because they’re more powerful than the rifle’s force field can handle.”

“Got it,” Evans nodded.

“Knock their legs out from under them,” Steve added. “And don’t get killed, because Hayley will kill me for letting you!”

“Got that, too,” he said. Evans looked at the nearest soldier, then somersaulted forward and used himself as a bowling ball to knock the alien over.

“I’ll get the big one!” Hemsworth said. He fired himself up with lightning again, and took flying leap towards the queen, delivering a punch straight to her solar plexus. She staggered backwards, but the lightning was dispersed by the metallic cloth draped around her body. This clearly caused her some pain – she tore it away, snarling, and then brought two of her four fists down on the floor, trying to squash Hemsworth like a bug. He leaped aside, just in time.

“Get at the seams in her armor!” Thor shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “That’s how Loki took one’s arm off before!”

This was like playing a video game, Steve thought. They all had their abilities and powers now, but they could only use them at arm’s length.

Evans had a rifle now, but a Chi’Tauri with a staff overloaded its force field. He threw it aside and bounced it off another individual’s head. “I am Captain America,” he said out loud, grabbing a Chi’Tauri by the back of its helmet and slamming its face into the floor. “I am fighting a million aliens.” He drove his knee into another one’s crotch. The drones had no genitalia, but it was still obviously painful. “While a guy who looks exactly like me fucking coaches me!” He kicked a third in the gut, and it staggered backwards into two others.

No wonder he thought he was dreaming, Steve thought. Being outside the action watching yourself was a hallmark of a dream. Dying in this dream, however, would be all too real.

#fanfic #steve rogers #natasha romanov

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