#lena says 'you never fully left...not for me. but it is nice to be able to hold you again' and kara one ups her and kisses her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pippytmi · 3 years

Note

Roommates au, enemies to lovers, “you confuse me.” Supercorp obvs

“You’re a fucking liar.”

This is—objectively speaking—not the worst greeting Kara has ever received from her roommate, and so she takes it in stride. “Uh, hello to you…too,” Kara says slowly, silently running through a list of everything she could have done wrong to warrant such strong words.

But Lena does not offer any explanation; in fact, when she spots Kara in the doorway, she sends her a nasty glare as if Kara has said something wrong. “Don’t pretend you’re a saint in this matter, Lex,” Lena hisses, and only then does Kara notice the cell phone in Lena’s hands. “If I have to go and clean up your mess again…”

So it’s one of those days. Kara wisely shuts the door quietly behind her, and sneaks into the kitchen as Lena takes her argument into her room.

There is a list of chores pinned to the fridge—four black X’s cross out Lena’s, and Kara’s are underlined twice. They have a code, so as to avoid speaking to each other; X’s mean done, underlined means Kara you're a slob and a pain in the ass to live with. (All verbatim, by the way.)

The dishes, however, are not on Kara’s agenda at the moment. She instead takes the expensive whiskey hidden under the sink (that belongs to Alex, not that she has noticed it’s missing), and pours it into a glass with some ice. Then she whips out the ingredients for a stir fry, complete with every vegetable she had been saving for the potluck at work this weekend.

It is an unspoken rule that Lena will shut herself off into her room after this phone call is over. She does that every time her brother calls (and on occasion her mother), and Kara has picked up enough information about her roommate to know Lena will appreciate a hard drink and some food. She hasn’t said so or anything, but every time Kara knocks three times on the door and leaves a plate outside, it will re-emerge an hour later completely empty.

Lena’s voice grows louder despite the distance, and Kara turns on the stereo out of respect for her roommate's privacy. Lena hates the stereo and all it stands for; she argues it is outdated, and they have numerous pieces of technology that are less bulky and fully able to connect to radio stations. But Kara keeps it around anyway, because she still likes buying CD’s (and maybe to bother Lena, which is a bonus).

Blink-182 is playing on that alternative station Alex likes. Kara cranks it up as she cooks, singing under her breath as she sautes bell peppers and onions, ignoring the rumble of her stomach and the tight belt of her work pants still digging into her hips. “Say it ain’t so, I will not go,” she practically yells, poking her head into the fridge for the tofu that Lena always keeps. Kara personally won’t touch the stuff, but Lena is trying to eat less meat. It cuts up easily enough, even though Kara isn’t sure what the proper technique is.

She leaves the finished plate and drink outside after it’s done, rapping on Lena’s door in tune with The White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army,” and then finally has some dinner herself. Since the tofu is unappetizing, Kara stores the rest of the stir fry in a container for Lena to take for lunch, and opts for a sandwich. She eats while scrolling through her notifications (she owes Nia twenty bucks, and so far Nia has been clogging up her phone with Venmo requests all well over $500), and keeps the radio on just for background noise.

That’s probably why she doesn’t even notice when Lena approaches; Kara has barely begun to type a text to Nia swearing to bring some cash next time she visits when a sharp voice declares,

“You confuse me.”

Which. Is not at all what Kara expected from her usually empty kitchen. And, caught exceptionally off guard, she nearly falls off her chair. “What the—Lena,” she sputters, righting herself. Unfortunately, the crust of her sandwich is a casualty of the surprise, and she watches as it crumples devastatingly on the floor.

Lena is not half as concerned about the fate of her dinner, and she stalks forward to jab a finger at Kara’s chest. “You confuse me,” she repeats.

Kara blinks. Then blinks again. “Um, okay,” she says. “…why?”

A strange, strangled noise rises from Lena’s mouth, and she appears angrier than Kara has ever seen. (Well, except for that one time that Kara did laundry and flooded the apartment laundromat, which had other pissed off tenants leaving mean messages for two weeks straight). “Because,” angrier-than-usual Lena says, “you do shit like cook food for me and don’t even say anything.”

“What do you want me to say?” Kara frowns, not sure where this conversation is going. “If you want I can start saying ‘Hey Lena, I made dinner’ every time.”

“You and I don’t do dinner,” Lena says, and it sounds like an accusation. “Every time I get off the phone, you decide to leave food outside my door. Why? What on Earth compels you to do that?”

“Because you’re always upset afterwards,” Kara says slowly. “And I thought you could use some cheering up, or at least a drink.”

“Whiskey,” Lena notes. “It’s always whiskey. And it’s never a cheap brand.”

“Well, yeah,” Kara says, gesturing pointedly to Lena’s designer work clothes (that she never seems to be without; Kara’s not sure Lena even owns pajamas). “You would probably accuse me of poisoning you if I gave you anything less.”

Lena narrows her eyes. “You don’t owe me anything,” she says. “So whatever this is, you can stop it.”

“What do you mean, ‘whatever this is’?” Kara repeats incredulously. “I’m just being nice!”

“I never asked you to be ‘nice’!”

Kara exhales, and reminds herself that it is illegal to strangle people. Especially since she is Lena’s roommate, and will therefore be suspect #1. Kara has never been a violent person, but her roommate just manages to test her limits.

“Look,” Kara says patiently, “I give you my sister’s whiskey, and she doesn’t care because she is trying to give up drinking. And I’m not a frequent cook or anything, but I can still throw together a plate because I know you don’t cook at all. That’s it! I don’t have a hidden agenda, or some secret plot here. I’m just being friendly.”

“We are not friends, Kara Danvers,” Lena says. “And I know exactly what this is, even if you refuse to acknowledge it.”

God, what an insufferable—“Okay, know-it-all,” Kara says, instead of the ruder words echoing through her head. “What am I doing?”

Lena’s jaw clenches noticeably. “You pity me,” she accuses. “You look down at my relationship with my family, and—and I don’t want your sympathy, or your stupid food, anymore.”

“If you wanted me to back off, that’s fine,” Kara says, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “But I don’t pity you, or feel sorry for you. Heck, with your track record, I’d feel more sympathy for your family. They seem to be on the other end of some nasty phone calls.”

Lena’s expression darkens. “You don’t know my family.”

“I don’t know you very well, either,” Kara retorts, and she turns back to her phone where three new Venmo requests are waiting (two of them well in the thousands range; Nia must think she’s hilarious). “Message received, okay? I’ll leave you alone.”

At first, Kara assumes that's the end of it—assumes that Lena is going to stalk off, and leave a strongly worded post-it on the fridge later that night for Kara to wake up to. That has always been how their relationship works; they fight, reiterate how much they hate living together, and go right back to ignoring each other.

But Lena doesn't walk away. Instead she sighs, and at that unexpected sound Kara looks up just in time to catch Lena frowning. “I—” Lena begins, and then she pauses uncomfortably before getting the words out. “I'm...sorry. I have been having the worst day, and it’s—it’s rude of me to take it out on you.”

“Okay,” says Kara dumbly, because she’s not sure what to respond. Lena never apologizes. Ever. It’s about as rare as, well, Kara actually doing her chores on time. “Thanks?”

Lena bites her lip, glances away. “You’re welcome,” she says stiffly. And this time she leaves—leaves, and abandons the plate of food Kara left her on the edge of the table.

Kara looks down at her phone. There are ten texts waiting from Nia, and about double that of Venmo requests. But she can’t shake the feeling that she is forgetting something, and it’s more than a twenty dollar bill. “Wait,” she blurts out, “Lena. What—what does that mean? You were an asshole to me, and I was an asshole right back, so why are you apologizing?”

“Well, you are more than welcome to apologize too,” Lena says, pausing in the kitchen doorway. She has a quizzical expression on her face, a kind of raw confusion that Kara has never seen before. Without the sharp clenched jaw and the angry eyes, she’s…just a girl. A girl, with a nervous tic of wringing her fingers together. A girl, despite her guarded nature, who is gazing right back at Kara as if she has no right to.

“Do you want me to apologize to you?”

A beat. “Not really,” Lena says. “I don’t—want that. You’re right, you don’t know me. Or my family. We’re nothing to each other, and I can’t expect you to know how complicated my relationship with them is.”

“Still,” Kara says, and she scratches the back of her neck absentmindedly at the sudden flush of guilt that overtakes her. “I am sorry. It was rude of me to, um, say that. Like if your family is a bunch of serial killers, who am I to say you’re worse than that?”

Lena scrunches her nose in a manner that is sort of cute. “Serial killers? Really?”

Kara shrugs—aiming for casual—and really that just looks like attempting nonchalance when suddenly she’s consumed with thoughts about how pretty her roommate is. “Like you said,” she says, “I don’t know your family.”

And, surprisingly, all Lena does is smile. A real smile, the kind that Kara has never witnessed, barely soft and just kind enough. “They’re not,” she says, and unnecessarily clarifies, “serial killers.”

“That you know of,” Kara points out, and Lena’s cautious smile becomes something fuller. That is the only thing that gives Kara the courage to add, “So, now that we have covered the whole you’re not your family thing, are you really not going to have dinner? I cooked tofu for you and everything!”

“You didn’t have to,” Lena argues, because she is defensive to a fault. But she falters immediately after, and sighs again, albeit in a more mellowed tone. “What I meant to say is, I really don’t need you to keep cooking for me. I’m fine.”

“Well what if I want to cook for you?” Kara says, and that is her own fault: she is ready to argue to protect her (noble) intentions. “We don’t have to be friends, if it terrifies you that much—”

“It does not terrify me—”

“—but we can be friendly,” Kara offers, and it’s a testament to her newfound appreciation for her roommate that she manages to even make a sentence. “If you want.”

Lena tilts her head, considering, and this time when she smiles it is curious. “If you knew what I wanted, Kara Danvers,” she says, “your delicate sensibilities would blush to their roots.” And with that odd goodbye, she eventually takes her leave; however, she does take the plate of stir fry with her, so Kara guesses that means they’re on their way to being friendly, if anything.

#remember when quarantine started & i asked for prompts?#yeah u read that right a whole ass year ago?#well. uh. so this is embarrassing but-#supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #proudlyunicorn

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captains-simp · 3 years

Note

Yelena Belova + Fake dating Au!! pls 🥲 :)

I've been waiting for someone to pick the fake dating one *fist pumps air* I'm gonna combine this with your other request if that's okay

"I think I'm inlove with you."

Warnings: shitty family and homophobia

7.7k words

A/n: if y'all want me to do this oneshot again but with Wanda (cos I'm a lazy hoe) just lemme know 👀 I think it would work pretty well 👀

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Pleeaasse, Lena." You pouted once again. You had been begging Yelena for the favour for an hour now; her stubborness was proving hard to overcome.

"I'm busy." Yelena said, her accent strong as she walked around her appartment to collect things for her next mission.

"But will you be busy on the 10th?" You asked from the couch where you watched her disappear into various rooms as she talked.

"I thought you said it was a few days." Yelena quipped, seemingly only giving you half her attention.

"It is." You confirmed with some hope.

"So I'd need to clear my schedule for more than just the 10th." You huffed and rested your head on the back of couch.

"Yes you would. I'm sure Natasha can manage without you for a few days."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that." She muttered.

"Please, Lena." You tried. "I need a win." Yelena stopped by the kitchen counter and gave you a long, considering look. You had long given up on your puppy dog eyes and instead copied her expression as you chewed on your bottom lip.

"I'll think about it." Yelena finally said before grabbing something from the cupboard.

It was the best response you had gotten all night and you knew you wouldn't get anything more. So you accepted it and hoped for the best.

Your parents had invited you to their cabin for a few days just like they did every year. It was a beautiful place. You could spend your whole visit in the forest along the back. Or swimming in the clear lake that was a short walk away. The cabin itself was the cosiest place you had ever been and had been where some of your best memories had happened as a kid.

As you got older things changed. Being around your family, especially your parents, wasn't as enjoyable. They had high expectations for their children, expectations that your siblings had met without a problem but ones that you had struggled with.

You enjoyed your life. You had the kind of relationships you had always hoped for, you loved your job and you had the perfect balance of the two. But you could never shake the feeling that you had failed.

Your brother was a surgeon who always told you all stories of the lives he saved and the close calls he had swooped in to save people from. One of your sisters was some hot shot lawyer who had done great things like help people wrongly convicted but still put dangerous people back on the street. And your other sister was the CEO of an energy company that you never quite understood. They even all had equally successful partners who loved to talk about themselves as much as your siblings did. You didn't have any of that. But you did have Yelena.

Knowing the Avengers was the only thing about you your family took interest in. They were always subtly hinting at wanting to meet your friends. But you knew the Avengers had to endure enough fan service and didn't want to push your family onto them, especially with how annoying they all were.

However as your family's unrealistic expectations reached their all time high you were sure you wouldn't be able to handle another trip with them without a win, and you were far too petty to take the moral high ground and just not go. Not to mention that was a huge part of you that was dying to see what the Yelena girlfriend experience would entail. Yep, that was what you were asking of Yelena. To pretend to be your partner for the duration of the trip.

"When are you going?" You asked, changing the subject in hopes that Yelena wouldn't suddenly conclude she didn't want to do it (then you really would have to ask one of the others).

You knew it wasn't a smart choice. That if Yelena agreed your crush on her could get out of hand. You knew you would end up getting too caught up in the act. You could have, no - should have - asked Natasha or Wanda or even Carol if she was around. But your family knew you were the closest with Yelena and she would be the one it felt the most natural with, and the most believable. At least, that was what you told Yelena.

"Tomorrow." Yelena answered, keeping her focused tone.

"When will you be back?" You attempted to keep the concern out of your voice but the glance Yelena gave you told you you hadn't done a good job.

"The day after." She said, softer this time. You nodded as you looked down at your lap and tried not to think about everything that could possibly go wrong on her mission.

"Be safe." Yelena strolled over to you and placed her hand gently ontop of yours and gave it a quick squeeze.

"Always."

"Got any plans Saturday night?" Natasha smirked knowingly at her friend as they preped for their mission.

"No." Yelena replied as she slotted a spare gun into her leg harness.

"Nothing with y/n then?" Nat asked, partly genuinely but mostly knowing Yelena would still say no.

"No." Yelena said again, biting the inside of her cheek in consideration before speaking again. "Not this Saturday."

Natasha raised an eyebrow in surprise and interest. Yelena rarely made any kind of special plans with you as you would always hang out casually so it was never anything fancy or different that needed planning. She had always wanted to though.

"Plans for another time?" Nat continued as she double checked her pack.

"Maybe, I'm still thinking about it." The redhead turned fully to her friend at her words, confused at why Yelena was hesitant to spend time with you. "She wants me to go to the cabin with her and her family." Nat had heard all about the infamous cabin and your family.

"That sounds fun." Nat nodded. The cabin sounded fun. Your family did not.

"As her girlfriend." Nat's eyes widened excitedly but before she could speak Yelena clarified. "Her pretend girlfriend."

Nat paused and looked as though she was going to speak for several seconds until she stuck to just giving a confused look.

"Yeah." Yelena sighed. "Thinks it would seem impressive." Yelena had tried not to be hurt over that. She knew you weren't just friends with her to show her off to people, because you never did. But it hurt her to think the only time you could see her in a romantic way was when you were pretending.

"Well," Nat muttered as she adjusted the zip along the front of her catsuit. "Fake it till you make it." It was Yelena's turn to give Nat a questioning look. "Maybe it'll be an eye opener for her."

"You think I should do it?" Yelena asked, fully open to hearing and accepting her friend's advice in that area.

"Definelty." Nat confirmed. She wasn't sure about it for the reasons she said though. Yelena's crush on you was obvious to everyone except you, just as it was vice versa.

You had been overjoyed when Yelena told you she would come with you to the cabin and play along as your girlfriend. She had told you when she came back from her mission, in fact it was the first thing she said after she had let herself into your appartment.

It was never really brought up after that, but you couldn't deny you were incredibly anxious on the week leading up to the visit.

On the drive up to the cabin you and Yelena stayed in a comfortable silence most of the time, clearly both lost in thought. You had the radio on for background noise more than anything else, but you would occasionally lightly tap the steering wheel if there was a tune you recognised, oblivious to Yelena's acknowledging smiles.

"So what's the plan?" Yelena asked as she looked at you expectantly. Right, of course the spy wanted a strategy.

"Keep things simple, I guess. They know how we met already so we can just say at some point we took things a step further than friendship." Yelena didn't seem convinced at the simplicity of that. "Look they're not going to want to hear about us, not much at least. They prefer the sound of their own voices, they'll be trying to impress you is all."

"Impress me?" Yelena asked.

"Yeah, hope you warm up to them so one day they can invite you to their snobby parties." Yelena chuckled as she glanced out of the window, knowing there was a lot of truth to what you said.

"And what are those like?" She enquired curiously.

"I wouldn't know, I've never been invited." You said simply. You had gotten over that a long time ago, gotten used to being forgotten. Yelena clearly hadn't though.

"It will be an honour to turn them down." Yelena said. You shook your head and smiled at her. That did sound pretty nice.

When the cabin came into sight between the trees your nerves spiked. You figited in your seat and bit your lip when you saw some of your family gathered outside, their attention instantly on you. You shot Yelena a quick smile which she returned before you got out of the car.

"Y/n! So nice of you to come." You mum said as her eyes flickered to Yelena more than you. She opened her arms for the shortiest hug in human history before turning to Yelena. "You must be Yelena, we've heard so much." You mum insisted as she brought Yelena in for a hug too.

The blonde raised her eyebrows at you over your mum's shoulder and you bite back a laugh. The others came over to greet you and mainly Yelena in a rush, overwhelming both of you.

"You too will be in the upstairs bedroom on the left." Your mum told you as you went to grab your bags. You did a double take, convinced you had heard her wrong. That was the best room in the house. A big difference from being in the small room in the basement every other time you had been there.

"First one on the left." Your dad confirmed. There was no way your parents were going to be in the basement so you wondered who else had been moved around but didn't ask, knowing whoever it was wasn't going to be happy.

You and Yelena made your way up to the room and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of the spacious room and the door you knew led to your en suite.

"That was...a lot." Yelena summarised as she said her bag under the bed.

"I would tell you it gets better but I don't want to get your hopes up." You sighed as you got a couple of things out.

"It's just a few days." Yelena said despite the fact you should have been assuring her.

"Yeah." You nodded and stared down at the floor. "Now c'mon." You suddenly said as you took ahold of Yelena's hand and laced your fingers together. You missed the startled blush that crept onto her cheeks when you turned around.

Your family were sat outside whispering amongst themselves when you returned. Their interested gaze fell to your entwined hands in an instant.

"So you work with the Avengers?" Your brother, Dalton, said as soon as you both sat down.

"I do." Yelena said as she continued to hold onto your hand.

"Must be crazy, what are they like?" He enquired.

"They're good." Yelena said simply. Everyone clearly expected something more but Yelena pretended not to notice making you smile.

"I almost did business with Stark once, decided against it in the end." Claire announced proudly. You and Yelena exchanged knowing glances. Stark had told you all about his encounter with your sister, it definetly wasn't her turning him down.

"I was invited to one of his parties." Anna said quickly. "I was busy that night unfortunately."

Bull. Shit.

"Yes I remember working with Doctor Strange when he was still in the medical profession." You gave Yelena an I-told-you-so look as your family erupted into conversation over who had the most contact with the heroes. That had to be a new record of how quickly they started talking about themselves.

They continued like that until your mum called everyone in for dinner. The food smelt undeniably amazing as you took your place at the table next to Yelena and eyed the dishes infront of you. Your parents efforts to impress the blonde weren't all that bad.

Your family continued to catch up and and you and Yelena half listened as you ate. They were all doing as well for themselves as ever and still hadn't learnt any modesty.

Although you were proud of your siblings for what they had all achieved, Yelena had stopped four potentially devastating bombs going off in the space of half an hour a week before but she wasn't going to bring that up anytime soon. Eventually though, the attention turned to you to bring you out of your silence.

"And you're still working in that little café, y/n?" Your mum asked curiously.

"I own it, mum." You corrected quietly as you stabbed some pieces on your plate.

"Ah yes, quite the contrast though, isn't it. Between you two." She said as she pointed at you and Yelena with her fork. You didn't say anything to that because you felt there really wasn't anything to say in response. It wasn't like you hadn't thought that exact thing every now and then.

"The team loves it." Yelena said suddenly making everyone, including you, look at her in slight surprise from speaking up. It hadn't taken your family long to learn Yelena wasn't much of a talker, not to them anyway. You couldn't get her to shut up half the time. "At least one of us goes everyday. If we're lucky we all can. Nothing beats it." She defended simply before turning back to her food to show she wasn't going to say anymore. You smiled down at your plate at her words and the truth of them.

No one said anything in response, clearly shocked from this new information until Dalton spoke up.

"But doesn't Stark like fancy, top of the line, restaurants? I can't imagine him in some random coffee shop, no offence sis." He nodded towards you though you knew he didn't mean it. He couldn't let you have just one win.

"That random coffee shop has catered some of Stark's parties. Not that many though." A smug smile crept onto Dalton's face as he opened his mouth to make a snarky remark but Yelena cut him down again. "Because y/n's invited to the rest as a guest and a close friend." Your family stared at you with open mouths.

"You've been invited to Stark's parties?!" Anna exclaimed. In your defence, your family never wanted to hear about your life so you never got the chance to tell them anything.

"It's not really my crowd." You shrugged. "I just go to hang out with them after." Dalton's jaw clenched in annoyance and he didn't say anything for the rest of dinner. It was only really your mum who kept talking. Telling everyone about her latest travels that fell on death ears.

It was certainly a first for your family.

When everyone had finished their food you and Yelena excused yourselves and said goodnight before retiring to your room. Yelena shut the door gently as you collapsed onto the bed on your back and glared at the ceiling. The blonde shuffled around quietly to get her toothbrush and toothpaste and some other things you weren't really paying attention to and went into the bathroom.

When she came back out she was in her bedclothes and lifted your feet off the floor to turn you so you could fully lay on the bed. You smiled at her weakly.

"You should go get changed." Yelena said as she got her laptop out her bag. "Then you can pick a movie." She announced when she had gotten under the covers and started her laptop. You smiled more and nodded.

You tried not to think about your family and everything they had said at dinner as you got changed but it proved difficult. Everything they had said echoed around in your head but most of all you couldn't shake the disregarding ways they said it. It was as though you could do no right with them. Maybe they would never be proud no matter what you did.

You placed your toothbrush back I'm the holder and rinsed your mouth before heading back into the bedroom to an awaiting Yelena.

You got under the covers next to her and rested your head on her shoulder as you glanced at the Netflix screen and pointed to one of the comedy movies. About ten minutes into the movie Yelena spoke. "You okay?" She whispered as she continued to look at the screen although that wasn't where her focus was.

"Yeah." You whispered back.

"Promise?" She said after a second." You moved your head away so you could see Yelena clearly.

"I'm so glad you're here." You said honestly. She smiled and nodded as her eyes searched yours.

"I'm glad I'm here too." You knew Yelena wasn't glad she had to spend the time with your family. She was glad that she could support you despite their efforts to bring you down. You were incredibly lucky to have her.

You rested your head back on her shoulder and neither of you spoke for the rest of the movie. Or the rest of the night. You must have fallen asleep about half an hour in.

Yelena wasn't much of an intimate person. She made the odd exception with you and Natasha, but always seemed to refrain or hold herself back from being too close to you. So when you woke up and couldn't tell where your limbs started and Yelena's ended, you were surprised to say the least.

You were resting your head on her rising chest and had your arm slung across her stomach. Your legs were tangled together and her arms were holding onto your waist. A warmth spread through you and you decided to settle back into her hold and closed your eyes with a content smile.

You had about ten minutes to enjoy that before Yelena woke up. You could feel the moment she realized you were so close, she physically froze. You waited in anticipation for something for several moments until your friend very slowly unhooked her legs and guided your body to lay against the mattress and pillows as she slipped out of bed towards the bathroom.

You sighed when you heard the door close and rubbed your eyes slowly, knowing you should get up but wishing more than anything that you could return to how you woke up.

"Morning." Yelena croaked when she left the bathroom and saw you sitting up in bed.

"Morning." You said back with a smile and tried not to focus on how ridiculously attractive her voice sounded.

You gathered some random clothes into a bundle and went into the bathroom to change again and brush your teeth. When you came out Yelena was pulling her shirt over her head and gave you a generous view of her toned stomach. Your face heated up when you saw it and you turned away to pretend you hadn't seen when Yelena noticed you.

"Don't make a sound." Yelena warned. You glanced up at her with some confusion. "I don't think your family's awake yet, that means we get the kitchen to ourselves." She grinned and you did too.

You and Yelena had gotten so used to getting up early for your jobs you forgot other people would still be sleeping. It was hard to break out of the habit but it proved useful.

The pair of you made a quick breakfast and ate it outside thanks to the warm weather even at that time. But soon enough your parents came downstairs and ruined the peaceful atmosphere with the clanging of pots and loud convosations.

You wandered around the side of the house and saw the old table tennis table that bad been folded away years ago and hadn't been set up since. You went over and started setting it up when Yelena joined you and eyed the table with a glimmer of mischief.

The blonde was the most competitive person you had ever met, you learnt that over a simple game of snakes and ladders years ago.

"You played this before?" You asked convosationally.

"I have." She said as you both automatically took up your positions of opposite ends of the table.

"Me too." You said confidently. "A lot." Yelena hummed in acknowledgment and swivelled her bat in her hand and stood ready. You smiled at her seriousness for the game.

You served surprisingly well for someone who hadn't played in a few years and Yelena was able to hit it back with ease. Once you had developed a steady pace you started hitting the ball more daringly to Yelena who was caught off guard before she started doing the same.

The moment you missed the ball a smug grin started on Yelena's face, her arrogance stopped her being aware of you suddenly sending the ball back her way until it was too late.

"That wasn't fair!" She exclaimed childishly.

"That was tables tennis." You said seriously but started smiling again. Yelena rolled her eyes and flipped you off as she trudged back to the table and served the ball with force. You managed to send it back but took a step away from the table in caution.

You continued like that for a while. The competition tension rising as you picked up the pace, one of you occasionally getting a point before the other evened it out.

At one point you were vaguely aware of Dalton sauntering over to see what you were doing and arched his brow at the sight of the table.

"We still have this thing?" He questioned and you hummed quietly in response, too focused on the game.

"Hey Claire! Get over here, we're playing table tennis." You rolled your eyes at the intrusive and could sense Yelena refraining from doing the same until an idea popped into your head.

You caught the ball in your hand and smiled at Yelena's protests as you moved round to her side of the table just as your sister came out.

"I didn't even know we still had this." Claire laughed as she picked up another bat from the box.

"Maybe we should take it back with us." Yelena whispered to you and you bit your lip to contain your smile because yes, yes you should. Inevitably, your siblings sucked at table tennis.

You had suspected as much you just never thought they would be as bad as they were. They missed almost every hit and everytime they did they got increasingly angry, which meant they ended up flaring their arms around like idiots. It was a memory you would be sure to treasure.

"Stupid game" and "probably broken" kept echoing across the table until your siblings finally stormed off to throw a tantrum.

The rest of the day went by quietly. You and Yelena sat by the lake for most of the afternoon to enjoy the sun and heat. You reveled in the most recent memories of your siblings embarrassment and had to keep hushing down to childish whispered whoever one of them was nearby.

Surprisingly, dinner went by peacefully too. You weren't asked anymore questions at the table. Instead, your family were content with talking about their upcoming plans between stealing glances at you and Yelena that the blonde never failed to notice.

The pair of you slipped off to your room the first moment you got and easily fell into bed besides one another. Yelena picked out a horror movie instantly making you groan into her shoulder as she giggled.

She settled down beside you and within the first few jumpscares she slowly wrapped an arm around your shoulder so you could sink into her further. You were barely paying attention to the film after that.

Despite the chilling scenes of the film, you couldn't help but want to melt under the warmth of your best friend. You hoped it was something you got to experience more, you felt safer than you ever had in Yelena's arms.

Little did you know that having you in her arms was the most comforting feeling Yelena had ever experienced.

You had thought waking up in Yelena's arms the morning before had been the best thing to awake to. But that day when you woke up not only were your legs tangled together again but the blonde was slowly stroking your hair while your head rested on her chest. It was a gradual gesture that maintained a perfect rhythm and made you want to fall back asleep. But you were afraid you would mistake it for a dream later on. No, it was definitely real.

Luckily, your head was already tilted upwards slightly so when you secretly opened your eyes to risk a peek at your friend you saw her staring out the window as though she was in a trance. She was clearly so deep in thought she hadn't noticed you wake up, you had never seen her like it. But the feeling was too good to ignore, too compelling.

Soon enough, you found yourself drifting off back to sleep.

When you woke up again Yelena was gone. Her absence left am emptiness you knew wasn't good for you. As the days of your visit went on your fake relationship with Yelena was going to effect you even more when it was over.

Over...you couldn't think about that.

Once you got up and got changed you found Yelena in the kitchen looking at the news on her phone as she sipped her coffee.

"Morning, honey." You grinned. Yelena blushed slightly into her coffee, something you thought was undeniably adorable.

"Morning yourself." She tried to play off smoothly making you grin more.

You made breakfast for you both just as your mum came into the kitchen and greeted you both with an overplayed smile, already talking to Yelena about an upcoming party that she should go to. Yelena mumbled something about a full schedule as you managed to whisp her away outside with your food.

Eventually, you and Yelena became bored with sitting around in the house when you had such amazing surroundings on your doorstep. You declared that you were going on a walk with the blonde and left before any of your family could invite themselves to go with you. Especially as you had told your friend to wear her swimwear underneath her clothing as you had a surprise for her.

You made a point of holding Yelena's hand as you left and once you were far away from the house went to take it back only for her to hold on tighter.

"You never know where they could be lurking." She joked as an excuse, so you starting swinging your arms playfully as to assure her you wanted your hands to stay linked together too.

You spent hours in those woods and was thankful for having a spy best friend who of course knew to pack the essentials like food and drinks so you could stay away from the house as long as you wanted. The blonde brought so much you were able to have a small picnic on top of a hill that overlooked the large lake that stretched out all the way back to the house. You remembered thinking up stories as to explain the strange shape and curves to it as a child.

"It's beautiful here." Yelena said as she picked some grapes from the bunch between you.

"It is." You agreed with a fond smile.

"I used to want to live in a place like this." She muttered, sparking your interest.

"In the woods?" You asked curiously and she nodded.

"I thought I could retire to the woods and get a small cabin and I could grow my own food and that was all I needed." You hummed with a smile as you studied Yelena's features.

"Sounds lonely." You thought aloud.

"I'd have a cat." She said simply making you laugh. "I never used to think that but now when it crosses my mind and I picture that life... I picture someone else there with me." You knew she was imagining it as she spoke and you wished you could see exactly what it was she wanted.

"We could always downgrade the holiday house." You half joked as you nodded in the vague direction of the house. "Make it a simple cabin."

"We?" Yelena asked hopefully, the emotion clear before she had a chance to conceal it.

"There's no one I'd rather run away and live in the forest with." You joked although there was a lot of truth to your words. The blonde considered you for a while before smiling and nodded as though she had reached her own internal conclusion.

"Come on." You said suddenly as you stood up and dusted yourself off.

"You want to go back?" Yelena asked and you grinned.

"I'm going to show you that surprise." You declared and packed the remaining food away. Yelena did the same, eager to see the surprise you kept secret the whole way.

It was quite a way back to the house. The whole time Yelena kept asking more questions about it but you wouldn't say. She could only make guesses based on the swim wear which should have left only a few options, non of which she got right.

Finally, you arrived where you wanted to and grinned at Yelena before starting towards the edge. The blonde frowned as she watched you approach the ledge and became worried when she invisioned the steep slope that didn't always lead to water straight down. If you were to fall... your friend didn't have to wait long to see that. You slipped along the edge and disappeared from her view as she gave a startled cry and sprinted towards the edge and knelt over with wide eyes, expecting to see something that could haunt her forever but instead she saw you on a wide ledge but seven feet below her.

To your left was part of the ledge that had been dug into randomly and acted as perfect aid to get back into the woods above.

"Come down here." You beckoned as you starter to take your top off. Yelena's eyes widened more and quickly turned around and dropped down next to you steadily.

She glanced over the side of the small ledge to glance at the fifty foot drop into the water. There was nothing in the way to fall onto but there was no telling how deep that water was.

"You can't go in like that." You laughed as you kicked off your shorts and pushed them to the side. Yelena's face heated up at the sight of you in your y/f/c bikini as you assessed the view. But even in her flustered state she was able to put it all together.

"You want to jump down there?" She exclaimed making you laugh.

"I've done it tones of times." You assured. "It's fun."

"It's a death wish! What if the waters not deep enough?" She questioned making you laugh more.

"Are you scared, Lena." You teased as you took a step towards her making her avert her eyes from your form. She scoffed to play it off.

"Of course not." You hummed in faux belief.

"Well then I'll see you down there." You grinned and took a couple of steps back until your feet were no longer on the platform and you were plummeting down towards the water where you landed with a splash.

Yelena held her breath as she waited for you to resurface for a few agonising seconds. When you did with a gasp and started kicking around frantically to keep yourself afloat with your built up adrenaline the blonde sighed in relief and started taking off her own shorts and shirt and placed them next to your things.

You've jumped from higher. She told herself as she rocked on her feet. With a harness! She argued back before she shoved those thoughts aside and threw herself off the ledge and into the water below.

You laughed as she came back up and pushed her hair away from her way. You swam closer to her and saw her wide smile.

"Fuck." Yelena whispered with a laugh as she looked back up from where you had both come.

"Told you it was fun." You teased as you tried not to focus on the low cut on her bikini bra.

"Yeah yeah." She laughed and adulterer when she looked past you and saw you were surprisingly close to the house. She could see the outline of your family sat outside.

"They're looking." Yelena muttered. You could tell by the look on her face who she was talking about. It wasn't like there was anyone else around either.

"Do you think they've caught on?" You asked nervously as you stared at Yelena's grey eyes to stop you looking at your family.

"Maybe..." She considered and glanced around. "It's not like we've been acting like that much of a couple." You scoffed at that.

"At home everyone assumes we're dating and the one time we need it be believable it isn't." You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile.

"I know." Yelena laughed for a second but then paused. "Then let's give them something believable." She gently placed both her hands on your waist and pulled you slowly towards her. You let her guide you and took extra notice of the water droplets across her face. You almost trembled when your bare stomachs pressed together in the water lightly.

Yelena's soft hands left your waist and gripped your thighs to pull you up to wrap your legs around her own waist. You couldn't help but giggle at the gesture as you wrapped your arms around the blonde's neck and held onto her waist with your legs in a lock.

"Can I?" Yelena whispered when she lifted your chin with her finger and her other hand came round the back of your neck.

"Just shut up and kiss me." You demanded with a playful smile and leaned in to do it yourself.

You smiled into the kiss and felt Yelena do the same. It was everything you had ever imagined it to be. Her lips were soft and fell into place perfectly against your own as they moved together.

You mind was hazey and your stomach was doing flips at the realisation that you were actually kissing your long time crush. You forced yourself to remember that it was all a show. That Yelena didn't mean it. But she put on a believable act and kissed passionately, even slipping her tongue through your parter lips to explore your mouth further.

When she eventually pulled away you rested your foreheads together to catch your breath and grinned as you closed your eyes.

"You're a really good kisser." You blurted out making Yelena chuckle.

"Not too bad yourself." She teased.

"I hope not, we're gonna have to do that again." You smiled and instantly realized that sounded like a confession you desperetly wished you could claim. "You know because...Once probably wasn't enough to make it entirely believable." You rambled and Yelena nodded somewhat stiffly and let your legs drop back down.

You wanted to say something to her, anything but it was all stuck on the tip of your tongue.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a small murmurarion of starlings flew across the lake, some of them skimming the water then gaining height again as they got closer to you and Yelena.

You both ducked instinctively as they flew over your heads and off towards the forest again as you watched them in awe until they disappeared. You glanced up at the sky and noticed the sun had gone behind a cloud, ableing you to continue looking up at the other birds higher up.

You kicked your legs up slightly so you could lay on your back and outstretch your arms to keep you afloat in the water so you could stare up at the sky without hurting your neck.

You didn't realise Yelena mimicked you until her hands brushed against yours. She withdrew it as soon as you touched and went to murmmer an apology but you smiled and held onto her hand as you both lay watching the birds.

Neither of you had to say anything. It was a comfortable and peaceful silence that was occasionally filled with birds chirping or the sound of a calm breeze. Of all the things you expected to feel on that trip, relaxed was not one of them. You stayed like that for a while until you were both snapped out of your daydreams by the distant yell that declared dinner. Well, you had to go back to them eventually.

Both of you took your time swimming back to dry land and only felt a shiver when you left the water and the breeze hit you. Yelena spotted and reached the towels before you and wrapped yours around you tightly. You thanked her with a small blush as you both sauntered up to the house where the mouthwatering smell of a barbecue greeted you. Your dad was leaning over it while shooing your brother away as he tried to offer his 'help'.

You and Yelena went inside to change swiftly and came back outside as the food was being placed on plates and your mum finished setting up the buffet.

Everyone starter helping themselves and you piled as much food as you could onto the plate. You parents had asked what food Yelena liked and when you gave them a brief list you added in a few things you knew you both loved.

"You gonna eat all that?" Anna asked as she eyed all the food on your plate. Guilt and insecurities washed over you until Yelena purposefully grabbed a large handful of small sausage rolls and put them on her plate that was piled with a considerable amount more food than your own. You smiled at the reassuring gesture as she sat down with a satisfied grin on her face when she saw Anna close her mouth to stay quiet.

"Thanks." You whispered to her as you sat down.

"If you don't eat all that I will." She declared. You were pretty sure she went back for seconds.

Instead of disappearing back to your room like you did the previous nights, you and Yelena stayed with your family for a while after dinner. It wasn't to do with their company, more the mesmerising fire in the firepit you all sat around. You were cuddled up into Yelena's side with a blanket over both of you as you stared at the flames, smiling at their small flickers and dances.

"So Yelena," one of your sisters began, "are any of the other Avengers...you know." She nodded her head in the direction of you both.Oh boy, you though.

"I don't think it's my place to say." Yelena said because yes, a lot of the Avengers were queer.

"Oh come on, you can tell us." Anna encouraged as she sat forward eagerly.

"I could, but I'm not going to." Yelena continued to defy.

"Lay off it guys." You mumbled but was ignored. Your family took it in turns saying her teammates names in hopes of sparking a reaction, clearly forgetting they were facing a spy.

"Stark!" Claire said but was instantly shut down by the others.

"He's married!" Dalton objected.

"Could still be bi though." Claire tried but Dalton just scoffed.

"I suppose there's going to be more surprises."

"What does that mean?" Yelena asked with narrowed eyes. Dalton met her gaze with his own challenging one.

"I just never thought one of the Avengers would be a dyke." You felt Yelena stiffen as you all held your breath. There was no way to tell what was going through the blonde's mind, especially as after all those years of friendship you still didn't even know what team she batted for. She was an ally at least, but would she see this as her battle to fight?

Upon getting no reaction, Dalton continued. "It makes sense why you'd hang out with y/n though, we always knew something was wrong with her but-"

"That's enough." Your mum snapped with a guilty expression she failed to mask. You swallowed hard and moved to get up, deciding you had heard enough.

"Then you're idiots." Yelena stated as she glared daggers at your brother while you sunk down.

"I'll have you know I have a doctorate-"

"Your idiots." She repeated. "There's nothing wrong with y/n, which is impressive considering she's grown up around you lot." You looked at your friend in awe as she continued.

"She's the most amazing person I've ever known, including any of the Avengers. She's everything that you're not and I'm lucky to call her my girlfriend. It doesn't matter what any of you think of her, I love her and I always will." She declared as shot daggers at each individual family member who had fallen silent. She took your hand and pulled you up from your seat to take you inside.

You couldn't get her saying she loved you out of your head. You reminded yourself over and over again on the way to your room that it was just an act. That the blonde was making her point. But God, how you wished it was real.

She was so gentle with you as she guided you through the house. When you got to your room and broke down sobbing she held you on the bed for a long time until your cries turned to sniffles. The thing was, you weren't sure what you were crying over. Sure, what Dalton had said had hurt. As did the confirmation that your whole family had always looked down on you. But you had known that was the case for a long time, you had moved on from it.

Instead, you may have being crying over what you didn't know and didn't have. How much of what Yelena said was true? It was all based off of something that wasn't real. What if she saw you the same way your family did?

When you stopped crying you became aware of Yelena gently stroking your hair as she rested her head on yours and held you close to her. You remembered the memories you had accumulated over the past few days with her. The kisses, the hand holding, the nights together, how she stood up for you like no one ever had. You loved her so much.

"I think we should go tomorrow." Yelena mumbled and you nodded into her shoulder.

"I'm not going to leave you though, you know that right? You can stay at mine and we'll watch more of those crappy American movies you like." She mocked lightly making you chuckle against her. "Whatever you want."

"I just want you." You said honestly. You knew you shouldn't have said that, but you were too emotionally drained to care.

"I just want you too, y/n." You pulled away from the blonde to look at her clearly.

"I don't think you know what I mean." You sniffer and she smiled at you fondly.

"I mean what I said earlier, around the fire." Your eyes widened slightly and you held your breath.

"It was all an act though." You whispered and Yelena chuckled as she exhaled sharply.

"No y/n." "I think I am inlove with you." She said as she took ahold of your hand and searched your face for any signs of a reaction to her confession.

"Me?" You questioned, not quite believing it.

"Yes you, idiot." You smiled and sighed in relief, not being able to find the words to express your overflowing happiness and numerous other emotions you couldn't quite pinpoint. You let go of Yelena's hand and brought them both up to cup her cheeks. You had done a lot more handholding than kissing in the previous few days. It needed to be evened out.

You closed the gap between you and kissed Yelena with just as much passion as you had in the lake, except all hesitation and questions were gone. Because you knew she loved you. Oh God she loved you. You grinned into the kiss at the thought and felt her hand fall to your hip while the other caressed the side of your neck in the most gentle manner you had ever seen from her. When you eventually pulled away you rested your forehead against hers, a smile still playing on both your lips.

"Told you we'd have to do that again." You said and and laughed. "I love you too."

"Well I hoped that wasn't a pity kiss." She joked and you smacked her arm playfully.

"It definetly was not and I'll prove it to you by taking you on a date when we get back." You promised as you sat back to look at her clearly.

"Oh yeah?" She asked with a playful smirk and leaned over so her face was inches away from yours.

"Yeah." You said back.

"Well until then, my real girlfriend should definetly just keep kissing me." She said as she pushed you down gently and kissed you again. You smiled against her gleefully.

"Your girlfriend would love to."

#yelena belova oneshot #yelena belova imagines #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova #mcu #marvel

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officialcharactersimp · 3 years

Text

Best of Friends

Summary: "Like they were in the red room together and they’re best friends and now talking all about stuff yknow and accidental confession of feelings OwO" is the actual note I left myself

A/N: sdaklfjsdsf fluffy it's just fluffy ok leave me alone I had the want to write it and so I did. I also have 2 more parts already (one almost finished, one half-finished). WC: 1.2k

my carrd masterlist

please reblog my posts!!! it feeds my soul and fuels my writing :)

CW: fluff :3; maybe minor bw spoilers?? don't think so but just to be safe; mentions of sexytimes; reader says no thanks to sexytimes and yelena is like ok that's fine :); reader was a widow but that doesn't mean they haven't since discovered that they are not in fact cisgender :)

“Have you ever had a crush on anyone?” Yelena asks you. You sit up and look at her. She sits up too, crossing her legs and adjusting herself on the queen-sized bed. You’d managed to snag an apartment with two bedrooms, but both were cramped and there wasn’t a common space to sit—just a bathroom and hallway-turned-kitchenette between the two rooms, so you both often ended up in one of your rooms to hang out. This evening, it was hers.

“Yelena, I’ve been in the red room since I was six, same as you, and it’s not like I’ve really met anybody in the past month and a half,” you say. “I’ve been mind controlled for all the years I would have a crush.”

“Well, we still felt things,” she said, looking at her lap. “We just couldn’t do or say anything.”

“Did you have any crushes?” you turn the question back onto her.

“Oh, of course. A few little ones, but there was always one that never left me alone,” she sighs. “I spilled my beans, now your turn,” she pokes at your knee.

“Alright, alright, I had one or two, too, mostly later on,” you admit.

“You were quite a late bloomer,” she recalls, making you blush. You were the last of your class to get the hysterectomy, considering they preferred to do it one you were “fully matured.” “I’m only teasing,” she assures you.

“I know, Lena,” you say.

“So who were yours,” she grins.

“No way!” you scoff.

“Okay, just the biggest one, and I’ll tell you mine too,” she says. “We’ll do it at the same time.”

“Alright, alright, fine!” You yield, heart beating so hard you swear it’s visible.

“3…” Yelena begins

“2…” you say.

“1!” you both shout.

“You!” you both shout in unison. An almost dopey grin spreads across her face as you slap your hand over your mouth in surprise, letting out a shrill laugh.

“Do you still?” you ask after a minute, your blush spreading down across your chest.

“Do you?” her question answers yours.

“Mhm,” you nod bashfully.

“I’ve crushed on you since we were 11,” she admits.

“I was 15,” you giggle. “I had all these dreams about kissing someone, and before I woke up I would see it was you, but only for a second,” you said softly.

“You used to throw your hand over the side of the bed, into the gap between ours. I always put it back when I saw, for your elbow’s sake, but sometimes I would hold it just for a second,” she confessed. “Oh my god, that’s so creepy,” she lamented.

“It’s okay, Lena,” you put your hand over hers. “We had so little comfort or contact there, I really don’t mind. It’s kind of nice to know, actually,” you say.

“So long as you don’t think I’m creepy,” she says with relief.

“Aw, of course I think you’re creepy. But not because of that,” you laugh, making her shove you with her free hand playfully. She interlaces your fingers and squeezes.

“You’re creepy too.”

“Thank you,” you hum softly.

You both sit there for a bit, holding hands and smiling at each other, basking in the moment you’ve both daydreamed about for years inside your mental prisons, a spark of hope and joy finally realized.

“What do you say about making your dreams come true?” she says, cocky and mischievous.

“Like, kissing?” you ask. She nods. “O-okay, yeah, that’d be nice,” for someone trained in keeping their cool, you’re failing fantastically at it in this moment.

“Still so innocent somehow,” she hums, bringing a hand to the nape of your neck, then sliding it to the back of your head to pull you in gently. She meets you halfway and then her soft lips are on hers, gentle and reassuring. You bring your hands to rest lightly on her waist, letting your eyes close and your body relax.

Without your surgery done until later, you never went on many missions that involved seduction, and you’ve never kissed a girl. Her lips are so fucking soft.

“So sweet,” she pulls back, resting your foreheads together. You press your noses together and smile. “Is it everything you dreamed of?” she smirks.

“And more,” you confirm.

“You want some more?” she teases.

“Yes please,” you say, trying not to sound too desperate.

“I’m more than happy to oblige,” her voice sounds a little husky as she pushes you back down to lay on the bed, settling over you before kissing you again.

“Lena,” you gasp between kisses. “How the fuck are your lips so soft?” you ask.

“Chapstick, dekta,” she says back when she can. You stick your tongue out at her, a little whimper of surprise making its way out of your throat as she takes it as an opportunity to slide your tongues together and gain entrance to your mouth.

You follow her lead, letting her explore and tentatively doing the same, trying to contain any more of your sounds. You’ve never kissed anybody like this before. You’re floating on cloud nine in the whole situation, hardly able to believe it.

“Let me hear you, dekta,” she says when you pull back for air. “You always sound so cute, I’ll bet you’re downright adorable when you whimper for me,” she says.

“Okay, okay, I will,” you say. “Just don’t stop, please,” you beg. She chuckles and goes back to kissing you, and now you let out all the little whimpers and whines that were trying to escape beforehand. She hums happily into the kiss.

“Absolutely precious,” she confirms. “So good for me,” she praises, you whine a little louder. “You like that?” she asks. You nod frantically. ��Like it when I tell you how good you are? How about when I tell you that you’re my favorite?” she presses further. You hum happily, flushing red again.

“So cute,” she says, nuzzling her face into your neck. You run your hands up and down her back, enjoying the pressure of her body on yours and relaxing.

“I’m not cute,” you say. “I’m a trained killing machine.”

“Still cute,” she says. “Even if it’s just for me to see,” she kisses your jaw. You feel one of her legs slotting between yours. “Unless you want to keep it here tonight,” there’s no pressure or expectation in the question, so you answer honestly.

“Can we just kiss and cuddle?” you ask. “I’m just—it’s not you, it’s just a lot—“

“It’s okay, dekta,” she hushes you. “I know, it can be a lot. Don’t worry. There’s plenty of time for me to take you apart later,” she says with a smirk you can hear.

“Is that a promise?”

“Just you wait, mladenec,” she says. “But for now, come here,” she rolls you both to your sides and brings her lips back to yours. She doesn’t have to tell you twice.

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lifeofanerdygirl · 3 years

Text

Kara realizes just how much she loves Lena with the unexpected help from Mon-El.

Inspired from the series finale BTS photos and this quote: “Don’t you get it? I can say goodbye to everyone else, but not you. Not you.” - @silvermoonwritings

“Kara, you were amazing back there,” Mon-El says grinning over at Kara as he leans over and rests his arms on the balcony railing of The Tower.

“Thanks, but I can’t take all of the credit. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t had the help of everyone. It was truly a team effort.”

Only a few hours ago, National City was filled with the sounds of terrified screams, warnings and commands shouted at one another and superhero and alien rivals crashing into buildings and pavement after being flung into the air.

Now, the city had gone back to its usual hum of nightly traffic and the evening life of its citizens. A calm resembling the feeling of a hot bath at the end of a stressful day.

Mon-El grins, eyes locked on Kara’s. “Stronger together.”

"Stronger together,” she repeats, yet it doesn’t quite have the same effect for some reason.

They let the hum of the city wash over them, enjoying each other’s presence in a comfortable silence.

After a couple of minutes, Mon-El speaks up. “Kara, there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?” Kara questions, turning her gaze towards him and away from a young raven-haired woman walking her Golden Retriever.

“You know Winn and I are leaving tomorrow and well, we were talking and wondering if you wanted to come to the future with us? Well, I was mostly convincing Winn of the idea...”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we could do great work together. Plus, it’d be nice to spend time with you again,” he explains, scooting closer to Kara and placing his hand over hers.

“Mon-El, that is really sweet of you to offer, but I can’t. I’m sorry...” Kara apologizes, shifting her hand out from under his and increasing the distance between them.

He crosses his arms, face falling in disappointment. “Why not?”

“National City in this time period is my home. These people living here with me are my home. I can’t say goodbye to...them.”

Mon-El fully turns his body towards her, resting one hand on the railing. “Kara, don’t you think this is our second chance together? I’ve grown. I’ve learned. I’m a better person.”

Kara mirrors his position, but places one hand on his shoulder. “Mon-El, I’m happy that you have evolved, but that is what you want, not what I want.”

“Well, what do you want then?”

Kara signs, turning away from him and looking out at the city.

“Is there someone else that I don’t know about?”

“Um...” Kara stammers, trying to wrack her brain for a response, but comes up empty handed.

Mon-El sighs. “It’s Lena, isn’t it?”

Kara doesn’t respond, but turns her head back in his direction. It’s as if the answer is written on her face with a bold marker.

“I wasn’t one hundred percent sure what was going on between you two, but after seeing you guys together these past few days and talking with you now, it all makes sense. It’s been hard on me and I’ve had to face the facts; what you two have, it doesn’t compare to what we had or what we’ll ever have.”

Finally, after a couple minutes of silence, Kara speaks up.

“Saying goodbye to you a few years ago was hard on me. Yet, I was eventually able to move on and Lena helped me through that. She and I have been through a lot together, both good and bad. Recently, we had a bad falling out due to her discovering my secret via Lex. It left me absolutely heartbroken. I tried to win her back several times, but too much damage had already been done. I had to give her time. Yes, we weren’t together for a while, but I never said a final goodbye. I couldn’t let her go. Eventually, she came back after realizing what Lex’s true plan was and how she was just a pawn in his game. Ever since, we’ve been working on rebuilding our relationship and honestly, things are better than ever. Now, I can’t ever imagine saying goodbye to her. There’s just so much...”

“That you love about her?”

Kara’s voice is a whispered confession in the night. “Yes.”

“Well, Kara Zor-El, Lena Luthor is the luckiest woman in the world.” The statement is not overly convincing, but it’s the best he can do.

Kara’s face immediately goes from its usual sun kissed tone to a light shade of pink and she looks down towards her red boots.

“I should go. It sounds like you need to pay Lena a visit and let her know your feelings.”

Kara looks back up at him, the pink receding from her cheeks. “Save travels,” she says, giving him a quick hug.

Mon-El strolls across the main floor of The Tower to the elevator on the other side. Goodnight Mrs. Zor-El-Luthor, he whispers as the elevator doors close in front of him, I had a feeling I couldn’t change your future, but I had to give it one last shot.

However, Kara doesn’t hear his words. As soon as he makes his way to the other side of The Tower, she shoots up into the air like a bullet out of a gun, closing her eyes and listening for her favorite sound, Lena’s heartbeat. After a few seconds of concentrating on the steady rhythm, she locates Lena in her apartment and zooms off in that direction.

She cautiously approaches, red boots landing quietly on concrete. It is late after all and the last thing she wants to do is scare Lena by slamming onto her balcony and bursting inside unannounced.

As Kara approaches closer, she notices Lena sitting on her couch, a blanket draped over her, glasses perched on her nose and is reading a book. Beautiful, is all Kara can think as she taps lightly on the glass window to announce her presence. Lena glances up, her face wide eyed and panicked at first, but it only takes a second before her lips curl into a smile and her eyes light up like a Christmas Tree.

Kara enters, obviously given the Lena Luthor sign of approval, switches from her supersuit into a pair of jeans and a blue v-neck and plops down on the couch next to Lena.

“So what brings you to my apartment at 11pm? I assume it couldn’t wait until morning?”

“I love you Lena Luthor,” Kara blurts out before she has the chance to register what Lena just asked her.

Lena can’t help the curl of her lips and the way her eyes start to fill with tears of happiness. She places her book down on the wooden side table behind her and slides closer to Kara. She grabs her hands, squeezing them tight and looks into the depths of Kara’s blue eyes that are currently glistening with love.

“And I love you Kara Zor-El,” Lena responds, leaning in and capturing Kara’s lips in a passionate kiss.

#supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl #supergirl season 6 #series finale #my writing #one shot #mon-el can't compare to lena

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popculturebuffet · 4 years

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Ducktales Comics: Spies Like Us and Dime after Dime or Weblena: The Preschool Days (Lena Retrospective) (Comissioned by WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy people and welcome back to Shadow Into Light, My Lena Retrospective, which fittingly has now come to Women’s History Month! I sadly do not have anything besides this arc prepared for the month. This month is pretty packed for me with two shows a week to cover, as while there’s only two weeks of Ducktales left final space starts up right after to take it’s spot, two arcs to cover, and two time specific movie reviews: animal crossing the movie and the 1990 TMNT film. I will try to get more than the currently planned top 12 superheroines list out there... but this month is very tight as is, so if I do not I deeply apologize.

Now that’s out of the way, it’s appropriate we start Women’s history month on some likely lesser known parts of Lena’s history, with some comics stories focusing on our faviorite emo lesbian duck and her 87 counterpart. Before I get started on that though Kev my patreon pointed out something intresting a few weeks back i’ve been forgetting to get to and since we’re looking into Minima, I felt this was the perfect time to do so: Lena’s Concept art.

There’s quite a few things to gleam from this. For starters as pointed out in the reddit thread I got the image as a whole from this was made in 2015, meaning Lena was one of the first new characters designed for the series and was part of it from the VERY early stages, as evidenced by the fact that despite clearly having their new personalities established, Beakly and Webby still had the old designs.

The other notable change is that her first design was way more like both Magica nad Minima, a bit more modern, but clearly far more obvious who she was related to. She also had all black feathers making the shadow twist a bit more obvious and was likely done away with both to avoid giving that twist away, the same reason for the fake lestrange name, and to avoid accidently black coding her, as while Lena being black would’ve been intersting, it also would’ve invited a firestorm of controversy given that their one black character in season 1.. woul’dve started off as a homeless, manipulative antagonist, and none of that would play well nor was it something the progressive crew of this show couldn’t spot from a mile away. And even this early on they have an almost final design ready, simply changing the shirt to fit her personality more, and her hair to be pink because it honestly looked better She also had green eyes throughout, but for whatever reason they phased them out. That part I don’t quite get as they look nice but probably they were hard to translate to the reboot style once they settled on their own. Her purple eyeshadow and haircut though have stuck since and were good calls.

One last VERY obvious note.. Webby was gay for Lena from minute one. While Dana helped it is now VERY obvious they gay coded this relationship from the design phase, and the crew was entirely aware the whole time and I gave them less credit than I should have. They clearly had this in mind, and it’s very likely ONLY subtext because Disney, while making more and more progress, is very reluctant to have queer characters as Owl House was a struggle and since they have a tighter leash on properites based on the sensational 6, that means Frank knew they had the same odds of making Webby or Della queer in anything but subtext that a pig has of suviving in a slaughterhouse. I bring this up because I fear the series getting accused of queerbaiting somewhere down the road instead of doing what they could with a bad hand and hoping they could make the show as gay as they could. Penny is as out as they posisbly could get her, and Violet and Lena’s dad’s got a full apperance, if no speaking role that made it obvious beyond a shadow of a doubt their gay and did it in a plot important episode. So they did their best and I want them to get credit for that.

But while this is all intresting stuff, join me under the cut for the meat of today’s review as I dig into Lena’s only apperance in the tie-in comic that was never punished here, and the only apperance of her protoype Minima.

Spies Like Us: As I mentioned this comic was never published here which is doubly weird to me because of how I knew this story existed. Since I follow comics weekly and buy trades reguarly, I read the solicits companies put out eveyr month to see what new series are coming, what the ones i’m currently reading are doing, and what trades are coming out. That sort of thing, and it’s something I love. I know their basically adds.. but their well put together adds that really pull you into the books you like. The big two and the indies are all very good at it and sometimes i’ts the only way to know a comic is coming if the company dosen’t make a press release for it ahead of time.

So naturally given there are several comics I follow at idw, paticuarlly the TMNT comics, I read those solicits and found they were going to do an issue with Webby and Lena becoming spies, and was excited about it. I ended up forgetting about it and never really followed the Ducktales comic as it came out, and upon reading an issue or two recently, one for another comission by kev as one story, happy happy valley, was particularly terrible. For those who haven’t read the story or my review, it involved the family getting stranded on an island where their forced to partake in activites and smile..that somehow turned into an aseop about Louie wanting to be rich. It ended with this

Yes.. really. That actually happened. But even with this, I fully planned to cover the issue when I covered Lena, and brought it up to Kev when he commissioned the retrospective. He gave me the discord equilvent of a blank stare and had never heard of it. I soon found out why: the story was replaced as, and fair play to disney, it spoiled Beakly’s past from the agent 23 episode which wasn’t going to air in time. What dosen’t work is they never reprinted the story in The US.. didn’t put it in a future issue and just swap it’s place didn’t put it in the nothing. And the story was fully complete as we’ll see, with a cover and everything so they had no excuse whatsoever to NEVER use it, even with what happened to Lena in the season finale, this clearly took place before that and it was weird to just shelve it because of that. But thankfully when a bunch of the stories were reprinted overseas, this and another one, also webby centric got published overseas. But not in english.

Lucky for me, I was able to find an english translation of an english story which you can read RIGHT HERE. It was translated by @neopuff and I thank them for it as without them this review would not be possible and want to give them all the credit. So was it worth all their hard work translating it? Well let’s take a look.

We begin at the Manor where Lena is skulking around suspiciously.. though it turns out she and Webby are just playing hide and seek. Though Lena accuses cheating. The dialouge here is pretty flat though that’s not Neopuff’s fault at all. As I can attest from reading other stories a lot of the early IDW comics are just this flat in dialoguge no matter the writer as they were likely given character descriptions and basic info about the show they likely had written up for merchandising and Frank and Co were given no involvement and likely weren’t made avaliable to consult on the comics to help them be a bit more fleshed out. It’s very obvious to me Disney just tried to get these pumped out so they’d have a series in stores to tie in without carring about qualities and given Scrooge debuted in comics, their lack of care toward that side of things in general, but especially in the first american published original duck comics in a while, bothers me a lot. It’s inexcusable.

That being said the story isn’t half bad nor is the setup as the two hear a beeping and find it’s Beakly’s phone going off with a mysterious message from Q, Webby thinks she’s been reactivated, and is encouraged by Lena to go look after her while she stays along. While Webby says in response

It just feels grossly out of character for both. Lena is far more subtle about manipulation as shown five minutes ago and Webby blindly trusts her. Because she has a massive crush on her and is naïve about how the world works. It just seems very odd of her to get suspicious as she never does on screen, and again it comes off as Disney having barely given the writers any materials on them when i’m sure Frank or Matt would’ve been happy to write up a thing for them to help outside of the usual press materials they were given.

Though hte last line isn’t all that out of character and has an obvious answer as within a jumpcut Launchpad’s taking them to London and is told to blend in.. which he does with an australian flag and accent.. good gag.

So our heroines do some heroic breaking and entering and look for the package, but soon find while hiding it’s already in transit.. and had obvious bows on int. Whoops. Our heroes trie the old follow tha tcar bit and refreshingly, it dosen’t pan out as the guy stops and tells them to get out. A nice twist. Unable to follow, our heroes instead find launchpad lost, as his map is upside down

So Lena dares him if he can follow that plane, a nice bit of character for both. I will give Joe credit. While the dialouge’s a bit flat and there was that out of character moment.. for the most part he does nail the actual character down and does use it decently enough. He’s just not given enough page room or actual details to work with is all.

So while our heroes follow they end up having to crash as they run out of fuel.. lucky their with the expert but end up near home where the package is delivered to. Turns out this wasn’t a spy thing, this was just a thing with her aunt. That’s fine and a nice gag.. it’s just ruined by just sorta.. ending. Lena leaves disapointed and Beakly scolds webby for “playing spy” and she’s sad. That’s it that’s how it ends. Which dosen’t fit the characters, as while Beakly would defintely scold her, it just dosen’t FIT that she’d be that tearse or not appricate the effort or give her an actual lecture and it feels like Joe had no idea how to end this after the gag and just.. ended it.

Final Thoughts for Spies Likes Us: This was okay. It is a bit of a disappointment as for the only story not available.. i’ts just okay and not really above an average Ducktales comics story, with some nice character bits but feeling a bit weak overall, as do at least the first half of the idw comics. I haven’t read the later stuff to see if it got better. It’s worth a read if you like Webby and Lena as characters and it’s not BAD, it’s just not anything impressive and is a simple hyjinks filled misunderstanding story.

Dime After Dime:

So now we go back a bit to the original. I didn’t do these in chronological order because frankly, Dime after Dime is the better story of the two and the bigger one at that, so I have more to work with here. But the original also had comics and honestly from the few i’ve read much BETTER comics. I chalk this up to two things: The Ducktales 87 comics seem to have come out AFTER the series was already a hit, and since Ducktales is pretty close to the original uncle scrooge comics minus it’s own tweaks here and there, it’s easy enough to just write the stories like you would a regular uncle scrooge story, just with Webby and Launchpad added, whereas the idw writers were staffed with writing for all new versions of the characters with noticable differences without much to go on. It’s why to me with tie in comics you have two options: Wait long enough so you can put your story inbtween the episodes like the Steven Universe and Regular Show comics did or just make your own continuity entirely like the Adventure Time Comics and the Archie TMNT Adventures series did. The ONLY time i’ve seen a comic work like this is the Bravest Warriors comic, which had a talented writer and fit well enough in the margins until it sadly ended.. and honestly is BETTER in some cases than the series. I might get to it someday. The point is this comic shows why you need to have a deft hand adapting something instead of just falling your arms about and hoping it’ll work.

So today’s comic was part of some Disney Series called cartoon tales, which clearly repackaged comic stories from wherever, and put them together. I don’t know much about it and the only other issue avaliable collects the disney adventures adaptation of “Just Us Justice Ducks”, which I might cover at some point. This book does have two other stories which i’d be happy to do on comission or on my own at some point, one involving gladstone the other gizmoduck, but for now, i’m just sticking to the title story and the reason you all came here.

So we open with Magica gazing into her crystal ball from her Mt. Vesuvies base saying that Scrooge will never know what hit him I know exactly what and who wiil hit him thank you very much.

Scrooge is seeing Webby off to her first day of day camp, getting all teary eyed which is touching. Beakly apparently goes with her as the story never SAYS Sshe does but she’s not also not around when the story moves on, as Launchpad says it looks like rain. Scrooge dismisses him, though Launchpad turns out to be right. Scrooge had good reason for once though, instead of just being a dick good on you comic for making me not want to punch him in the face, trust me that is a high bar to clear with the scrooge comics, as the weather was fine just a minute ago. Naturally it was Magica All Along! Nothing scrooge can do now that eveyrthing has gone wrong! Her entrance though is sadly not a catchy earwormy tune, but .. this confusing line

I think your thinking of Gladstone. And he’s still single so.. have at that but no Scrooge is the one who values hard work over anything else and brags about THAT or being rich. I .. I don’t get this line and frankly I don’t want to. Even in stories where the dime is supernaturally lucky and the source of his wealth he dosen’t boast about it because he’s not stupid and dosen’t want everyone knowing how to bankrupt him instantly. This line will baffle me until I die, presumably, given my life’s tragetctory, after reviewing an episode of mighty ducks and slipping on some a jerky wrapper.

Scrooge asks what she wants...

No this isn’t that kind of story sadly. Her plan is to.. zap the bin with lightning and take the dime. Really just went with your first draft didn’t you magica? But as stupid as this plan is Scrooge has prepared for it. He installed a lightning rod on the bin to save on power, and to power his new super soaker traps. So all Magica did was save him money. She flies off and nothing is acomplished.

So we get back to Webby at the Teenie Weenie Day Camp.. and just so you don’t think that was a terrible joke on my part...

My theory for how this name got approved at all is the editor KNEW how that sounded and just wanted to see if Disney would actually print a comic with the phrase Teenie Weenie without getting what it means in slang or how hilariously inapproriate it is to namme a children’s camp after it.

Your probably wondering who that grown woman calling Webby a dweeb is. Well story wise, she’s SUPPOSED to be another kid at the camp around Webby’s age. In practice, she looks like THIS in closeup

So it looks and plays like a 30 year old woman snuck into the day camp and no one’s noticed she’s not actually a children. Or their just humoring her because she had a week to live. I don’t know. I do know she doesn’t get to judge on names.

Snippy Von Glitz, proof rich people really do hate their kids and this this comic is trying personally to give me material. Snippy is your average alpha bitch, taking a chair from Minma and being obnoxious and classist and all that jazz. Minima gets hers back by making the chair bouncy then returning it to normal so Snippy gets in trouble when she makes up things about the chair, with the lady in charge getting ready to call her Dad. You cannot convince me that her “Dad” is just what she calls her husband, this is how they both get off, and that the lady at the preschool only tolerates it because they pay her a lot and so far the kids haven’t noticed Snippy is 30. Webby likes minima finding her name pretty, proving that the ho yay is alive no matter the webby and magica relative, and Minma returns the favor by saving her from a block.

Minma is reluctant to make an actual friend, finding they aren’t worth anything and given most of the kids here apparently pick on her and her aunt is well.. Magica, it’s understandable why she’d be so cold. But Webby presses on and says something from Scrooge about friends. Which given Ducktales scrooge has none goes weird but it gets Minma to find out she knows and lives with Scrooge, so she cons webby into taking the dime for show and tell, showing that she can manipulate them with her powers, and that he won’t notice it’s missing, getting her with “I thought you wanted to be friends”

So let’s pause for a second and compare and contrast the two: Both are the niece, or at least sorta in Lena’s case, of Magica, both manipulate webby, and both are her first real friend: The 87 boys are little monsters and I don’t consider them friends or even brothers, while the 2017 ones are just that: brothers. Their her siblings in all but blood, not friends and have hteir own long complicated history.

But otherwise the two are vastly different. Lena is a far more complex character as she’s been abused her whole life, is a rebel because Magica hardly gave her agency, and while she starts wooing webby out of self interest it’s clear even as far as the first episode she cares. Lena would gladly be part of the world if she could and this whole scheme is to gain that choice.

Minma is still sympathetic but very different: She walls herself off because the other kids laugh and mock her for being herself and lashes out at them.. not unreasonably mind , but still feeling she needs no one else.. but as we’ll learn later she’s only helping Magica to finally feel accepted, to get all the fancy clothes and stuff that will make her popular instead of that grown woman masquerading as a kid for disturbing reasons. Minma is at her heart just a hurt kid desperate to fit in. And while Lena shares the desire for a place to belong.. it’s at it’s core much sadder. Lena.. wants a family. Someone to love her and to care about her and actually look after her. Minma has that she just wants to be loved. it’s similar but very diffrent and I can see why Lena evolved into what she did, as Frank and Matt ended up going in a far darker but ultimately more interesting direction. Minima is not a bad character at all though and without her I don’t think we would’ve had Lena, but at the end of the day the 87verse is just not that complicated, so the reboot needed something more and that more evolved into who we have now.

Both kids excitedly talk about their new friends, with their respective guardians being distracted. Scrooge is distracted by the fact his car is a bit bumpy and Launchpad offers to fix it up for free with some parts from a buddy, which given the sentence “This won’t cost you anything” makes him erect, Scrooge agrees. Magica meanwhile, whose watching Minima while her mom is away which raises a LOT of questions we don’t have time for like who she is, is she’s poes wife or does Magica have other siblings... it’s a lot of questions we’re never going to get answers to.

The next day Webby got the dime easy as Scrooge was distracted. so Minima swaps them while she’s distracted. But while swiping it was easy, which to be fair Webby is likely approved in his security so it woudln’t match her.. or the story just needed to progress. You make the call.

Magica does the logical thing and goes and get sthe dime and the story ends there.. and i’m shitting you, she of course brags to scrooge, reveals minima as her spy, and offers to RACE him for it shortly after he realizes he has a fake.

The only major flaw in this story is Magica’s overconfdience, which isn’t BAD persay, but here has gotten to dumbass proportions. She just can’t plan for anything and a CHILD has a better plan than her that only dosen’t work for reasons we’ll get to. And that plan is almost ruined by Magica taunting scrooge!

So a race is on but Launchpad has transformed Scrooge’s old Model T into this

Damn that’s cool. Scrooge of course dosen’t like it, but honestly you get what you paid for. Oh that’s right you paid nothing for something you NEED to use every day for transportation.

At the rickity thickity bridge, Steve Buschemi’s worst roll and her minion ask Webby to roll with them and Minima mistakes this for betrayal planning to soak them all.. only for Webby to DEFEND HER, pointing out minma’s her friend, how she dresses is fine and she loves her no matter what.. the last part’s implied. The 30-year old asshole and her minon leave Webby and Minma is genuinely touched, as no one’s done that for her before. She put up so many walls... she didn’t realize someone could ACTUALLY care about her, so obessed with thinking she had to be like that soccer mom in preschoolers clothing, she just had to be herself: kinda werid but in that fun adams family way. Webby says she knows Minma would do the same.. so while she prepares to let’s get back to the race. Magica realizes Launchpad’s roadster is actually gaining and spreads some tacks, but Scrooge counters with some money.. because of course he has a lot of money in the trunk. But Magica takes out the bridge and while scrooge awesomely JUMPS IT... he’s still too late.

As you probably guess though, Minima had a change of heart, and gave Webby the real dime back, and Scrooge confirms it. Minima TRIES to tell Magica, and Magica is horrified her niece is a goody goody “I”ll never hear the end of it at my astral aerobics class”.. I.. I want to see that. Let’s raise those spirit ladies and kick kick that soul, doge that shadow king punch them in the soul. Yes! Now eat it eat it and absorb it’s power!

We end on a button joke as Webby apologizes for taking the dime., Scrooge accepts it and Webby tells them magica learned to carpet and they gulp for some reason.

Final Thoughts on Dime after Dime: This story was decent. It has problems, some jokes don’t land and Magica is made horribly incompetent, but minima’s character arc is endearing, and Webby herself is precious as always and her winning Minima over feels genuine. And Scrooge is in prime adoring uncle mode with her and i’ts just so cute. And the roadster race is pretty awesome to watch honestly. It’s an exceptional and enjoyable tie in story.. and not the last ducktales 87 story we’ll be covering here. Wink wonk.

Next Time: Things get DARK as Lena and Webby head into the depths of Scrooge’s hidden bin and Lena heads into the depths of her own soul.

Tommorow: Woo-Ooo mofos as we go back to the very beginning of the reboot! A family restored, a lost city to explore, and a glomgold rises! Be here or be square.

#ducktales #ducktales 1987 #webbigail vanderquack #lena saberwing #weblena #minima de spell #magica de spell #bentina beakly #launchpad mcquack #scrooge mcduck #dime after dime #spies like us #idw #comics #animation #shadow into light

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 4 years

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Metallo!Lena AU Part 15

Lena's decision to reveal herself isn't entirely well thought out. In the weeks that follow, the media outlets flood with speculation about her veracity, her intentions, and her whereabouts for the past year. Considering Lena bolted after giving the reporters her name, their confusion isn't entirely unwarranted, but Lena has no intention of giving them any further details.

Reclaiming her name is one thing. Revealing the current condition is another.

"The last thing the world needs to hear is that there's a Luthor running around without a heart. Literally."

Kara rolls her eyes at the weak joke. "Nobody blames you for your brother's actions, Lena. If they knew what happened--"

"They'll say I should have seen it coming. It's all in the family, Kara. My brother killed me and my mother resurrected me. This is my chance to start fresh, so just... let me have it."

The unexpected outcome of it all is that Lena no longer needs to hide. Slowly, she starts to venture out into the city with Kara, both with armor and without, and for the first time since her rescue, she gets to enjoy some of the things she used to.

Like watching the geese in the park, and window shopping in midtown. At first, she's able to get away unnoticed by simply wearing casual outfits, but as the media coverage persists, more and more people start to notice her. It soon becomes clear that Lena needs to make another decision.

"I have to make a statement," she says one night, lying in her bunk next to Kara. They've just come out of a sparring session, and are sweaty and tired, but still Lena's mind races.

Kara looks at her, not lifting her head. "Are you sure?"

"No. But... if I don't, I'll just lose control of my narrative all over again."

"Okay," comes the easy response. "I'll support you, whatever you decide."

Lena turns to look at her. "I'm going to need you to do more than that."

---

"You want her to WHAT?" Alex asks, when they tell her the plan.

Lena doesn't blink an eye. "I want Kara to leverage an exclusive interview with me to get her old job back."

Alex looks like she's going to pop a blood vessel. She eyes Lena, then turns her incredulous gaze on Kara. "And what do you want?"

Kara shuffles awkwardly in place, eyes on her shoes. "I... am okay with it."

It had taken some convincing. Well, not so much convincing as talking Kara out of her own pessimism. Her career was over, she'd claimed when Lena first shared her idea. Supergirl was her job now. She was needed at the DEO more than anywhere else. The world needed Supergirl.

"But what does Supergirl need?" Lena had asked.

Now, Alex doesn't seem convinced. "Really? Because you were miserable there before you quit. Are you really ready to go back?"

Kara shrugs, sheepish and uncertain both. Lena shifts protectively in front of her. "Don't worry," she drawls, "I'm sure she'll still help at DEO if you ask nicely."

"That's not why I'm concerned," Alex scoffs.

"Then why do you care so much about what Kara chooses to do with her civilian life, Director?"

Alex pauses on the verge of retort. Then she rocks back on her heels, making pointed eye contact with Kara. Kara touches Lena shoulder, moving out from behind her.

"Because she's my sister."

Lena blinks in surprise, then freezes as her brain restructures itself to absorb this new information. "Oh. That is... not what I expected."

"What were you expecting?"

"...doesn't matter."

Alex huffs, irritation flaring. "Kara, I don't think I need to remind you of what it was like when you were working at CatCo--"

"I loved CatCo. I still do." Kara's shoulders lift. "Looking back, I don't think CatCo was the reason I was miserable. It's just the part of my life that suffered the most. But--" She looks at Lena, shoulders squaring. "Things are different now. I can't be Supergirl all my life. I need more. I always have."

With a sigh, Alex relents. "Fine. What do you need from me?"

---

James is nothing if not surprised to see Kara slip into his office one afternoon. She's clearly nervous, fidgeting with her glasses and shrinking into herself. Even so, he's glad to see her.

"Kara, hey! Wow, it's been a while. How are... things?"

He knows her secret, but after their breakup and Kara's unexpected departure from CatCo, they'd drifted apart.

"Good, good. Yeah," Kara stammers. "I, uh, I was wondering if we could talk, for a second."

James grins. "Yeah. Of course, of course. Come on in."

He comes around his desk, meeting Kara at the couches. A little thrill rushes through him at their proximity, before he shakes himself out of it. He never got a chance to settle back into frienship with Kara, and he regrets the distance between them.

When they sit, he tries to ease her nerves with a grin. "What's happening?"

Kara smooths her hands on the tops of her thighs, and takes a deep breath. Then, she straightens and turns to face him.

"I came here to discuss the possibility of me getting my job back."

"Your job," James repeats. "Here. At CatCo."

Kara nods. "Yes. At CatCo."

"Oh... I don't know, Kara."

"I know it's a tall ask--"

James barks a laugh. "A tall ask? It's been over a year, and I hate to say it, but Snapper hasn't gotten any better since you left."

"He wasn't why I left..."

"I actually figured it was because of me."

Kara's eyes widen, and her cheeks heat with a flush as she scrambles to deny it. "James, no-- that's not--"

"You don't need to explain anything to me, Kara, really... but I have to say, a rehire would be a tough sell with Snapper, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to sell him anything," Kara rebuts, her voice steeling. Her gaze took on a hard glint. "You're his boss."

James nods. "That's true, but I wouldn't be doing you any favors by forcing you on him."

"I'm not asking for any favors--"

"Kara."

"You know what I mean. I'm ready to take on anything Snapper has in store, I'm ready to pull weight, and I'm ready to go the distance. And you know the kind of person I am, James. I won't let you down."

James sighs. "I know. But... I just can't do it."

Kara nods, adjusting her glasses. "I can prove to you that CatCo needs me-- will be better to have me on board."

There's something familiar in Kara's voice now, and James realizes that he's seeing Supergirl poking through. Whatever had so shaken her a year ago, she's ready to overcome it.

"And what's that?" he asks.

"Lena Luthor."

James pauses. "What about her?"

"She's agreed to an exclusive with CatCo-- on one condition."

"With you."

"As a fully hired and salaried CatCo employee."

It's the one thing James knows he can't refuse. Every media outlet in the country is clamoring for an interview with Lena Luthor, and here she's been walked right into his office on the wings of the one former employee his editor-in-chief cannot stand. That said...

With a scoop like Lena Luthor, CatCo would survive if Snapper Carr walked out.

James hesitates, out of principle if nothing else. "You really have Lena Luthor on lock?"

Taking out her phone, Kara opens her contacts and with just a few taps of her thumb has a video chat ringing. As James watches, the black comes to life with the visage of Lena Luthor.

"Kara, hi," says the tinny voice. Despite likely expecting the call, the woman is clearly happy to see Kara.

Kara blushes, fiddling with her glasses once more. "Hi, Lena. I, um, I have James here, and he was wondering--"

"Mr. Olsen." Suddenly, Lena Luthor is all business. "I expect Kara has already explained the situation."

James nods. "She has."

"I am willing to work with CatCo, so long as I interview exclusively with Kara Danvers."

"Editorial will have input on the question list."

"Which will be screened in advance, and received with Kara's contract, signed and countersigned."

James doesn't necessarily like being dictated to, but Lena's tone is nothing less than professional. It's as though he's talking to another executive, and negotiation is a tactic he's grown accustomed to.

"We can work with that."

"At 10% above Kara's exit salary."

Ohhhhh... James chafes at that. Kara starts, then flushes-- clearly, she hadn't expected this. But there's no negotiation in Lena's tone, so he chooses to take the high road. He nods.

"All right. We'll be in touch."

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#metallo lena au #supercorp #catco returns #lena flex

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hypnoticwinter · 4 years

Text

Down the Rabbit Hole part 27

FIVE YEARS LATER

I click my tongue at myself, exasperated, and then lean back in my chair, let it roll back a little. I look over the glowing page on the screen and bite my lip. Something’s missing but I can’t put my finger on it. I mean, it’s just a story about the water purification plant downtown but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want it to be good. If it’s going on my paper it has to be good.

I get up, walk over to the window, crack open the blinds. Pale sunlight pours in; it’s somewhere around three, I think. I’m feeling lazy and sleepy and enervated. I don’t feel like doing much of anything except laying down in that nice patch of sun over there on the couch and falling sleep, just like a cat.

There’s the water purification plant, just there, the gray bulgy building out at the edge of town. We’re just high up enough that I can barely see it from here. It looks different somehow but I chalk it up to having not looked at it in a while. Not like I make a habit of staring at the uninspiring industrial shape of the municipal buildings around town.

I’m smiling to myself now; I’ve heard the door open stealthily behind me and a pad of agile feet make their way onto the carpet. She tries so hard to sneak up on me but every time I can hear it; the door has a weight to it and even though the hinges make no noise I can still detect –

A pair of burly, undeniably masculine arms wrap around my shoulders in a loving embrace and I shriek and whip around and there is Thor, his scruffy, bearded face wide open, shock reflected back at me in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he tells me, his voice like a rumble of thunder. “I didn’t mean to startle you, I thought you heard me come in.”

I’m staring at him, I realize, poring over his face like I’ve never seen it before. He frowns after a moment, still holding me, one of his hands spread wide across my back, the other confidently at my hip, two of his fingers snuck down and cradling my ass. It’s so familiar and so exactly like he always used to do that it gives me a horrible/delicious little shudder of synchronicity. He’s still staring down at me and his expression is beginning to turn to concern, and I realize I haven’t answered him. I shake my head, scratch at my nose to break eye contact. “I thought you were someone else,” I murmur, and he laughs, holds me to him. He smells the same, like man, like auto-body shop and stale primer and sweat. I haven’t smelled it in so long that it makes me want to cry.

“Who else would it be?” he asks me. I feel more than hear the words, feel his deep basso voice rumble in his chest.

“Elen – “ I start, and then cut myself off. The name feels strange in my mouth, rusty, like how sometimes if you haven’t used a word in long enough it will become strange and malformed in your brain. E-lena, I think, but that isn’t right, that isn’t how it’s pronounced.

“Who?” he frowns, and I laugh. I feel very light all of a sudden.

“It doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “How long have you been here? It’s been ages since I’ve seen you.”

Thor’s let me go and walked off to the refrigerator on the other side of the apartment. I turned back to the window but I can’t stop myself from watching him lope along, like an overgrown lynx, as he goes. “What do you mean?” he asks, head buried halfway in the fridge. He pulls out a can of beer, gives me a questioning look, and I shake my head. He straightens and opens it for himself. “I got off of work about half an hour ago,” he says, “and I came right back home after.”

“But, I mean –“ I start, and then I frown at myself.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” I say quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just…did you ever have a dream,” I ask, “where you weren’t sure if you were actually awake once you’d woken up from it?”

Thor grins at me and despite myself I grin back. He’s still that same old ball of nervous energy that had enthralled me to begin with. “You know I never dream,” he tells me, and I roll my eyes at him.

“You do dream,” I tell him, fully aware in the back of my mind that we’ve had this conversation at least three times before. “Everybody dreams, you just don’t remember it because you’re a big dumb oaf.”

Thor laughs at me. Somehow we’ve made it onto the couch; I don’t quite recall walking over there and sitting down next to him but I’ve reclined and put my head into his lap and now I’m staring up at him with something approaching adoration in my eyes. He catches me looking and smiles down at me, traces his fingers along my cheekbone. “It’s been so fucking long,” I tell him, and he gives me another uncomprehending smile.

“I don’t know why you keep saying that,” he tells me. “I left for work at like five, you woke up, I kissed you goodbye. Were you too sleepy to remember it?”

I think about it for a while but it just doesn’t pop into my head. I feel groggy again and the sun is just there, just right. I close my eyes and then frown after a moment. “I think I had a bad dream or something,” I mutter.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s like…something isn’t right. And I can’t put my finger on what it is or anything it’s just…uneasy all over. Like goosebumps.”

I crack my eyes open, look at him. He obviously doesn’t get it but I don’t mind, he’s trying. I reach up and tangle my fingers in the long braid of his beard and he leans downwards and kisses me. For a moment, just a single disconcerting moment, I feel nothing but utter panic as his lips cover mine, and then it passes.

As we break apart I find myself grinning. Everything is fine; I’m just in a strange mood, woke up on the wrong side of the bed, whatever expression you want to use. Thor is beaming at me – he doesn’t like it when I think of him in those terms but that’s how it is, I can’t help describing him that way. Makes him feel unmanly or something. I roll my eyes behind his back but there’s something so – so sweet about having someone look at you like that, look at you like you’re everything to them.

I open my mouth to say something but before I’m able to get the words out a snaky, sardonic, familiar voice juts in.

“Cute,” someone observes, and I jump, glare over at the door, and there is Elena, just as the last time I saw her, wearing that orange spacesuit that we both wore down in…

Down in the Pit.

I can feel my hands trembling a little. Elena flips an errant blonde curl out of her eyes and grins wolfishly at me. The bullet hole down low on her side is still dripping blood, just a little. I watch as it falls on the carpet, burrows deep. That’ll never come out.

“You forget about me?” she asks.

“What’s wrong?” Thor is asking, and I glance over at him, incredulous. He hasn’t looked over at Elena, not even once, it’s like he can’t hear her.

“You don’t see her,” I say. There’s a horrible creeping feeling at the pit of my stomach. The dream I had – oh god, was it just the other day or was it years ago? The dream where I was back here, back in Thor’s apartment with all that flesh outside, and when Thor had kissed me, he had –

I scramble to my feet as quickly as I can, but I stumble, ending up halfway off the couch, still partly tangled with Thor. He’s trying to help me but I’m batting at him, trying to get him off me. He catches my wrists eventually. Elena’s still just standing over by the door, watching impassively, why doesn’t she help me - !

“Let go of me,” I tell him, trying to wrench my hands free from his grasp. He’s too strong, there’s no way in hell I’d be able to overpower him. He looks terribly concerned but I can’t trust him, not after that dream, not after anything –

“Roan,” he’s telling me, struggling to keep his voice even, “Roan, be careful, the doctor said you aren’t supposed to exert yourself –“

Something in his voice brings me up short and I look at him. “The doctor?” I ask, blankly. This is supposed to mean something to me but it just isn’t clicking in my brain.

“You know,” he says. His voice is almost pleading. “Because of the baby.”

It doesn’t register with me for a moment, and then drawn as though by gravity my vision swings downward and the crest of my belly, straining beneath the light teal blouse I have on, prods into view and I realize that I am hugely, almost grotesquely pregnant.

The blood is rushing in my ears and I can feel the hair on my arms and legs standing up. I raise my head and tear my eyes away from my belly and look not to Thor but to Elena. Her slate-grey eyes rake at me, neither accusing or condoning, and then my stomach lurches and I fall to my hands and knees and squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t have to watch as I heave my guts out onto the floor. Thor is saying something and I can feel his hands on my back but it is all lost to me in the roaring in my ears. I thought I would just vomit up bile and be done with it but whatever is in my stomach keeps coming and coming, and I can feel it wriggling inside of my throat. I can hear my voice, driven by some deeply terrified animal part of me, making a horrible muffled shrieking noise, trying to scream, but I can’t stop vomiting. Something slick and ridged and rubbery rolls against my hand and then rolls away again. Then another, then five of them, brushing against me from the spreading mess before me. One of them bites into the webbed space between my thumb and index finger and I yelp and pop my eyes open, drawing back my hand as though it were burned, and I see –

I see the dirty tile floor of the abandoned ranger station, and outside the great sopping mess of the fungal jungle surrounding it. I hear the chirps of the lizards and the thousand slow drips of moisture and gurgles and groans of the Pit around me. I pat at myself but my stomach is as flat as it ever has been, and the paltry pile of vomit on the floor there contains nothing more animate than the remains of the last MRE I had taken off of Klaus’s body before I had slung it into the forest along with Peter’s and Erica’s.

I reach up and wipe the cold sweat from my brow and then lean back against the wall of the station, blow out a breath. The dream had felt so real that for a moment it had been so easy to believe that I was out of here, that this was all just a bad memory and I could forget about it. Or was it a dream? Was I dreaming or hallucinating or having my first episode of the – of the psychic illness that Peter and Makado kept going on about? What was I doing before? I was – I think I was sleeping. So it must have been a dream. That means I’m okay, doesn’t it?

“You miss me?” Elena asks, and I whip around, stare at her long lanky form lounging upright against the doorframe. She grins at me and I feel so relieved I almost want to cry. I stagger to my feet and hobble towards her, the smile slowly breaking through my foul mood, and then I’m reaching out for her, putting my arms around her –

I clutch air to me. I open my eyes and look down at the doorframe dumbfounded but somehow Elena has simply slipped out of my arms without me even being able to sense her motion. She didn’t brush me at all.

“You must have missed me,” she muses from somewhere behind me. I turn slowly and squint at her. She’s leaned over the pile of vomit on the floor, inspecting it. She points to it, glancing up at me. “No leeches,” she says.

“No leeches,” I agree. I blink hard; Elena’s still there when my eyes open again. There’s still a wide blown-out hole in the back of her suit where the bullet passed through her, fragments of the rubbery fabric hanging lank and loose, red wet torn flesh beneath. Elena laughs at me, softly and richly, the same laugh she laid over me like a blanket when we were huddled together in our tent.

“You’re not –“

“- real?” she finishes. She shrugs. “You tell me.”

“I’m hallucinating,” I say slowly, waving my hand to the window. “All these fucking mushrooms everywhere –“

“The spores?”

“Yes. It must be.”

“Or you’re seeing things,” Elena says, tapping the side of her nose. “Not related to the spores.”

“If you’re my subconscious tell me something Elena wouldn’t know.”

“Would your subconscious cooperate with you?”

I think about it for a moment. “I think so.”

“You’ve got a mole on the left side of your –“

I laugh. “Elena might have noticed that.”

“Alright, that’s fair.”

“So are you going to –“

“Nah.”

I throw an MRE wrapper at her. It flutters to the floor short and she gives me a pitying look. “Wouldn’t it be nicer to believe she really did come back for you?”

“No,” I tell her. “Cause if she did –“

“Yes, of course,” Elena rolls her eyes. “If she did, if I did, rather, she’d be just putting herself in even more danger to try and help you and lord knows you aren’t able to accept any kind of help from anybody ever.”

I grunt. “Alright, you’re definitely a hallucination.”

She offers me an equally noncommittal grunt of amusement. “Well, what’s it going to be?”

I shrug, throw a can at her this time. She ducks out of the way. “Stop throwing things at me,” she says.

“I’m trying to see if you’re real.”

“You really think Elena would act like this if she was real?”

“I’m leaving,” I tell her.

“To go where? Get eaten by a bird?”

“No,” I say patiently, looking over the contents of the bag I’d packed last night. I’d had to dump out a lot of Erica’s crap from it but some of the stuff she’d had would potentially be useful. Water purification tablets, a small hunting knife, a length of rope...things I might need. She’d also had a couple of changes of clothes and a letter in a sealed envelope, addressed to her, with no return address or postage. I thought about opening it and seeing what was inside for a long, long while, but I had eventually tossed it into the fire.

I didn’t know what else to do chuck them out into the forest. I couldn’t bury them, obviously, and burning them wouldn’t have worked, a little campfire isn’t going to be hot enough. My stomach had done flips when I had been manhandling them out of the ranger station but I had clenched my teeth and bore it, my jaw still aching from where Klaus had struck me.

I wish Peter was still here. I wish the last time I’d seen him hadn’t been like that. And Makado – what the hell am I going to tell her when I get out of here?

“That’s good,” Elena remarks. “Good positive thinking.”

I realize I’ve just been staring at the bag before me, folding and unfolding the knife in my hands. “Huh?”

“’When’ I get out of here, not ‘if.’ Good positive thinking,” she elaborates.

“Where do you think Elena is right now?” I ask, getting heavily to my feet. My knee aches and I can’t figure out why; I haven’t done anything to it, fallen on it or anything, so I think I must have slept on it wrong.

“If she’s got any sense, far away from here.”

“Doubt it,” I mutter, and then I’m pushing through the creaky steel door and out into the cavern.

It’s quiet tonight, so far at least. The whooping and hooting usually starts up around…well, I don’t know what time exactly. Later. I can hear it through the windows normally but I am kind of dreading having to travel through the jungle while everything is starting to wake up and look for breakfast. Maybe it’s stupid, maybe it’s a bad idea, maybe I’ll get eaten by something, but the logic I had turned to was that if one of the birds got me in its sights there would be absolutely nothing I could do to get away from it, so it’d be better to creep out and try to escape while everything else was moving around as well, just so there’d be more targets.

“You’re sure that’s a good idea?” Elena asks me, and I almost snap something back at her before I stop myself. If I’m already hallucinating it’s probably best to just ignore it, not indulge my own fantasies.

“Yeah,” she says, voice rough and throaty and mildly amused, so close behind me I can almost feel her made-up breath against my ear, “because I’m so easy to ignore –“

“Will you just –“ I bark, spinning, but she’s gone.

* * *

My plan works, at least partly. I make it out of the clearing and into the dense fungal underbrush without a hitch. Elena doesn’t return to me, even though at this point I find I do kind of want her to. I’ve gotten lonely, gotten scared. I jump at shadows as I go along and it isn’t fun any more. Some company, even worrisome made-up company, would be welcome.

It gets to the point where I call for her out loud, under my breath, but she still doesn’t appear. Playing keep-away, I guess. Then I feel silly and resolve myself not to worry about it. One foot in front of the other and all that, just get through it. Get to the next screen.

I head in the general direction I think Erica and I came in on. I’ve fallen asleep twice since the events of that day so I think it must have been a couple days ago, but it’s hard to tell. It could have been as short as one day, I think, if not less. Time stretches down here without any good way to measure it.

Lots of lizards, big lumbering bumbling things. I’ve begun to regard them fondly somehow, even though part of me is still terrified of their bulk, at the ease with which they could maim or kill me if they took it into their minds to. On my journey one bulled past me again through the undergrowth and I froze, watching its mottled grey hide slither onwards, and then, greatly daring, I reached out and put my hand on it. It jumped a little, its muscles contracting at my touch, but it didn’t change its course or make any sudden movements, it just kept pushing forwards, its great shovel-snouted head pushing through the brittle mushroom stalks like a piece of construction equipment.

I found myself grinning, grinning at being able to touch this giant thing and have it accept me as just part of the environment, as just a thing that lives down here with it. Their skin is surprisingly soft and warm – they must be warm-blooded, I guess, which perhaps makes them not reptiles; I have no idea how convoluted their evolutionary tree must be. It also drools with a thick, sticky, translucent goo, a little like a tree’s sap, that coated my fingers and took a lot of wiping to get off. I move on for a little ways after cleaning my fingers, maybe about fifteen minutes’ worth of slow, painstaking progress, before I realize that my hand is beginning to go numb.

I stare at it, not comprehending, before the terror finally catches up with me – the slime, it must have been a contact poison or something. My heart is pounding in my chest and I’m biting my lip hard enough to draw blood, standing there in the jungle staring at my hand, watching it grow red and swollen and nerveless. I can just barely force my fingers to clench if I really try but it’s like I were wearing a glove filled to bursting with oatmeal, only the oatmeal is my own flesh. I want to vomit, the feeling is sickening, but I’ve got nothing left in me to throw up.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” Elena murmurs from next to me, and I don’t even have it in me to jump. Somehow I’d know my poor battered psyche would drag her out when I got stressed enough. I force myself to take a deep breath and let it out again.

“I’m fine,” I tell her. “This’ll go away, it’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure of that?” she asks. I shrug.

“It isn’t spreading,” I note, prodding at my forearm nervously. “It’s just the hand so it must just be a contact thing, it must just –“

“Maybe it’s a neurotoxin,” she muses, leaning over me, hands behind her back, peering down at the great fat white spidery thing pinned on to my left arm in place of a hand. I bat at her with it sluggishly but she leans back out of the way. Some part of me still wants to believe she’s really here, even if I know she isn’t.

“My subconscious is feeling very fucking chatty these days,” I groan. I can feel a prickling of pins and needles scraping along the flesh of my left hand, and the sensation does relieve me a little – it’s the first thing I’ve felt in it other than dull vibration and impact. Maybe the stuff is starting to wear off? Or maybe –

“Ouch,” I groan.

Or maybe those pins and needles will turn sharper and stabbier. Perhaps that’s what’ll happen.

“Suck it up,” Elena suggests. I glare daggers.

“How about you suck my cu– “ I start, but then there is a rustling in the fungus behind me, and though I try to turn I’m not quick enough before something leaps shrieking at me and knocks me to my knees. I jostle my hand against the wet, mucky ground and feel a long bone-deep jolt of pain run through it, but I don’t have time for that now, for more shrieks are sounding, tinny and ululating, and there are more things carving trails through the fungus stalks towards me even as the thing on my back jabbers and gibbers and sinks its tiny, needle-like teeth into my unprotected back.

I’m rolling around on the ground trying to get it off of me but whatever it is it crawls over my body nimbly, avoiding my one functional hand. There are three, four, five, six golden-furred blurs darting in from all sides and joining the first one and I start to realize that I may actually be in some serious trouble here. The bites of the thing clinging to me aren’t particularly deep or even that painful but with more of them here…

One of them shrieks directly in my face and then shoves its fingers up my nose, and then another hand enters my mouth and seizes my tongue when I open my mouth reflexively to scream. Another fixes its tiny, clever little monkey hands around my throat and squeezes and though I reach up and tug as hard as I can I can’t break its grip on me.

Something breaks inside of me. I can hear a low rumbling growl filling my throat and then I snap my jaws together with as much force as I can muster and bite clean through the wrist of the thing trying to yank my tongue out by the roots. It screams and screams, falling back on its haunches clutching its wrist, and all of the rest go very still. The one throttling me lets go and darts away with a wide arcing leap, leaving the one on my back, which I reach backwards for and seize, flinging it to the ground ahead of me with the speed of a fastball. It convulses once and then falls limp. I spit the small, capuchin-sized hand from my mouth, trying to ignore the horrible bitter taste of the thing’s blood, and reach out and snatch another by the tail while it tries to flee. It yowls and scrambles backwards up my arm, gnashing at me, but I batter it into one of the mushrooms and then when that proves too spongy to do much damage, into the ground, once, twice, three times. I’m gulping down huge swallows of fresh air, and my vision finally clears, giving me a good look at the things – they really are just small monkeys of some kind, with long, bulky forearms and streamlined, doglike faces. Their eyes, though…

Blue, green, rich brown and striking grey. My breath catches in my throat as I stare down at the squirming monkey at my feet. I swallow hard.

I’ve broken its spine, I think. Its rear legs, small and stubby and pathetic-looking, lie limp in the blood and dirt of the cavern’s floor. It glares at me, its eyes wide and terrified. It doesn’t have the breath to scream.

I take my eyes off it for a moment, scan my surroundings, but the others have gone, left this one behind. I can see the hand I spat out lying a few feet away but other than that and the monkey before me there’s no evidence that they had ever even attacked me in the first place. As soon as they left the clearing they went silent. I caught a glimpse of one of them through the stalks, head down, pulling itself forward with frenetic darting motions.

The monkey before me makes a piteous whining noise. I can’t hold its gaze. The right thing to do would be to – would be to kill it, wouldn’t it? I know in an environment a crippled animal like that is as good as dead. And it’s probably in a lot of pain.

I swallow again and a stab of pain burns down my throat as I do. Aftermath from the strangling I’ve gotten. My hand has only gotten worse – the pins and needles have sunk deeper into my flesh and whenever I move the hand or jostle it they stab at me. It hasn’t spread upwards any but it has only gotten worse, not faded, which worries me.

The monkey’s chest is rising and falling. If it were human I’d say it were hyperventilating. I take a step forwards and place the ball of my foot on its neck. It tries to push me off but it can’t, of course, it’s far too small and far too exhausted.

I stand there for a long while, trying to will myself to press down, but I can’t. Eventually I turn around and push my way out of the clearing. It makes no noise as I leave. I make it about twenty meters before I collapse against a mushroom. I try make tears flow but they won’t.

I blink and when I open my eyes again Elena is there, sitting against a mushroom opposite me. Her eyes catch mine and won’t let go. “It would have been kinder to kill it,” she tells me.

“Fuck off,” I tell her. When I blink again she’s gone.

I glare at the mushrooms surrounding me. Hopefully when I’m out and in clearer air it’ll go away. The air down here is thick and humid and horrible. My head’s all foggy and I’ve had a dull throbbing migraine for what feels like forever.

I take a deep breath (for all the good it’ll do me) and let it out. Time to get out of here. I push through another thirty minutes or so of jungle before I reach the high craggy alveolar wall of the cavern, fleshy and rough and raw-looking. There, up at the top, should be the vent Erica and I came through. Go through that and I think I’ll be able to pick my way through, get back to someplace recognizable, get out of here.

That’s the plan anyway. What’s that thing they say about mice and men?

It’s hard with only one hand but the wall is soft and pulpy enough that I can just dig my hands and feet in and climb up. The higher I get the more I get an itching sense of paranoia that a bird is stooping at me soundlessly and that any moment those foot-long talons will be piercing me like knives, but though I cringe and glance behind me at every tiny noise, whether it’s a far-off roar or a creaking moan from the Pit or some other less describable sound, no birds are forthcoming.

The quakes start when I’m halfway up, hanging off the cliff face taking a breather. I have to keep beating my numb hand against my side to keep some sensation in it; the pins and needles have gone at this point and have been replaced by an even worse icy, blunt feeling, like I’ve got a piece of lead on the end of my arm. The quake nearly shakes me loose and I let out a little shriek of surprise and terror when it rumbles through the cavern. The Pit roars, like something groaning a long way up, only audible down here as a rumbling moan I can feel more than I can hear. I cling to the cliff face as best as I can and ride it out, and eventually the rhythmic spasms subside – or am I just at the bottom of a wave, not able to feel the next one coming? The jungle below me is holding its breath, it’s gone entirely silent. Even the birds have returned to their roosts in the massive cross-cut length of bone spanning the cavity.

“Roan?” someone calls from above. I glance up, fully expecting to see Elena standing there at the top of the cliff, so close now, back to bother me, but instead it’s Makado. I laugh.

“Oh fuck off,” I tell her. I’m nearly there, just another, oh, I don’t know – fifteen feet or so? Vertically that’s a lot but I can make it. I pull my hand out with a wet sucking pop and then plunge it back in higher up, do the same with my feet. My arm’s stained red with gore all the way up to the elbow.

“Oh my god, Roan,” Makado’s specter is saying above me, getting on her knees just on the edge of the cliff. My imagination’s cobbled together a copy of the orange ranger suits for her to wear, although hers is newer and cleaner-looking than either mine or Elena’s ever was. She’s got a big pack on, and one of the slug rifles slung on a strap over her shoulders. I frown up at her.

“Don’t distract me, I’m almost there. I don’t want to fall.”

“Roan! I was so afraid I wasn’t going to find you!” she calls down to me. “Can you make it a little further? I’ve got a rope –“

I wave my numb hand at her. I can see her eye track it beneath the bubble helmet. There’s something wrong with her face, it’s like she’s wearing half a mask or something beneath the helmet. I don’t know –

Ten feet now. Nearly there.

“Makado,” I say, pressing my forehead against the fleshy cliff wall, “I really need you to just go away right now, I’m really close and I don’t need you to make me fall or anything.”

There’s a moment of silence. When I look back up she’s still there. “Roan,” she says, sounding almost hurt, “I came down to get you, are you –“

The quake cracks the Pit’s spine like a whip before she can get the words out. I scream again and Makado curses, pulling out a line from some hidden spool somewhere on her suit. She plunges it deep into the flesh of the cliff and fiddles with something at her belt, then leans forward and reaches for me.

“Roan!” she cries. “I’ve got you! Come on, just a little bit further –“

I look up, clinging for my life to the face of the cliff. Though the meat shivers and convulses all around me I barely even feel it. I’ve realized something.

When Makado leapt forward to reach for me, still a little short of my clenched hand buried in the cliff face, she pushed a spray of murky pit fluid forward off of the cliff and down onto me. I had to duck my head to keep it from getting in my eyes, but it still pattered in my hair, dotted my forehead, my arm, my hand.

I could feel it.

I could feel it. Makado’s real. Makado’s real, she’s really here, she’s come to save me –

But even as I snap my head upwards and meet her gaze, see her eye wide and terrified beneath the hardened plexiglass of the helmet, the Pit bucks beneath me once more and flings me from the side of the cliff and into empty space.

And then I fall.

Continue with Part 28

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#mystery flesh pit #writeblr #original writing #alt lit #spilled ink #Michael Crichton #horror #mystery #thriller

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inanotheruniversemusings · 4 years

Text

got your green eyes in the back of my mind (it’s true)

fill for Supercorptober2020 prompt: baking

read on ao3

“Hi, what can I get you today?”

Lena starts a little. She’s gotten used to the cheery voice, having frequented the coffee shop for quite some time now—it’s her favorite, really; not that anyone’s asked aside from her best friend, Sam—has known its owner even longer, being that they’ve shared half of the same classes the last two semesters.

This, though, is a tad bit new. This being the name tag pinned over the shirt pocket of the cashier’s chest. It usually says Hello, I’m Kara, but now it has the I’m blotted out by black marker ink so that the Hello is perfectly—correctly—followed by prettiest girl I’ve seen today.

(How she managed to fit all those words within the tiny space and in such a neat scribble, Lena has no idea.)

“Uhm,” Lena tries to say; wants to tell the equally beautiful blonde girl who smiles like the sun that she wants her usual. But Lena just can’t stop wondering, and she just has to ask. So she does. “Did you forget the, umh,” she tries a second time, yet she ends up merely pointing at the name tag instead.

“Oh,” Kara mumbles. A well-timed dip of her head hides the sudden flush that blooms on her cheeks. Though there’s really nothing she can do about the redness that crawls down to her neck but fiddle with her glasses. “It’s—there was a dare. There may have been a dare involved.”

Lena nods, her brows arching in barely-contained amusement. “I see.”

Kara flushes even more that she starts swallowing quite visibly, and in a fast, admittedly slightly worrying phase. “Anyway,” she attempts to press on, waving her hands in an added gesture. But she’s still stiff and so flustered that she ends up looking like she’s slicing at the air.

Lena laughs, more to herself—and the adorable state she’s seemed to have left Kara in—than anything; decides to save the other woman from further embarrassment by speaking. “Can I get my usual?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Kara answers. Her voice is unnaturally high, not that Lena knows the sound of it or anything, even as she tries to squeeze in one of her quips. “Or, well, I guess Nia’s, since she’s our barista.”

“Yep, that’s me,” the woman in question chimes in from somewhere behind Kara. She even brings a hand to where her very own name tag is pinned on her apron as she starts to approach the counter to stand beside the other woman; places it palm-up right beneath the scrawl that reads Nia in all caps.

Kara, in turn, just lets out an exasperated sigh and closes her eyes, tight enough that Lena can hazard two guesses on what she’s thinking: she’s wishing for Nia to disappear, or for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

She twists a little to meet Nia, despite also having known her three days after her first ever visit to the cafe, smiles at her teasingly. “Enchanté?”

“Oooh,” Nia hums, eyes sparkling with amusement and looking impressed as she turns to whisper to Kara. Or at least she thinks she does. “Your lady doth speaketh French. Taste, muy bien.”

“That’s not even Fr—I—” Kara fumbles for words, but ends up just pushing Nia out of Lena’s view when she fails to come up with something else and before Nia can wreak further havoc, especially on Kara’s already dwindling spirits.

Lena watches her walk away, the sound of her cackle filling in the air until Kara speaks again. “Sorry about that.” She pushes her glasses back up, shaking the last ten minutes away with a more steady smile this time. “I—your usual right? That’d be two dollars and fifty cents.”

Lena hands Kara a ten matched with one of her charmed smiles. The rest of its change goes to the shop’s tip jar like it always does, and the effects of the same smile colors the tips of Kara’s ears, charming Lena right back.

(There’s a reason why Lena has always been Nia’s favorite customer. A ton, really, though Kara will always have more.)

“Thank you!” Kara tells her—more like squeaks, really. Lena doesn’t stand a chance of not being endeared. “I’ll be right by your table to bring your Au Lait once it’s ready. Same spot?”

“Of course. You know where to find me.”

Kara beams at her then, wide and bright, as if the remnants of her earlier nervousness she has completely shaken away.

And it’s like a shock to her system that Lena only ever gets from coffee, as warm as the first sip she takes after she’s let it cool a little, with a sprinkle of sugar and something else incredibly nice that Lena doesn’t quite have a name yet.

…

Seven minutes and fifteen pounding lub dubs later—when she catches Kara’s eyes just as she’s handing the change to another customer, and Kara sends her another one of her smiles that Lena’s honestly starting to think she’s more hooked into than coffee itself—her Au Lait arrives.

Nia’s drawn a gear over the foam, which Lena incredibly appreciates and kind of also hates because of how steady Nia’s hands must have been, and she may be a tad bit jealous of that.

“It was just half yesterday,” Lena says by way of greeting, though she’s unable to keep the awe from her tone.

Kara laughs softly, and then lifts the mug up the tray to set it in front of Lena. “Nia’s been practicing. I think she’s trying to find a better gig than this.”

I am not, floats from behind the counter, a feigned affronted sound that Nia easily follows with, “But if Lena wants her own personal barista, I am very much open to discussion.”

“And if I do,” Lena replies, equally teasing. “You’ll be my first call.”

“Hear that, K?” Nia yells towards Kara this time. “So if I were you I’d chop-chop.”

“Ignore her,” Kara says; even makes a show of doing so.

“Like, today, Miss Danvers.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kara mouths.

A part of Lena does feel sorry for her, for the helpless look that’s starting to take over her face. But a bigger part of Lena is admittedly enjoying such banter; feels like Kara is more at ease here than when she’s at university, and Lena loves that for reasons she’s still resisting to name.

(But it’s there, was at the back of her throat the week before, but then Kara’s asked her what she knew about quantum entanglement during their shared walk to Quantum Mechanics class and it slid further up and then out; now dangles at the tip of her tongue, so ready to be let loose.)

She’s saved from saying anything that she can classify as stupid by Kara clearing her throat. Kara’s smile is back, albeit it’s a little shaky. Though the tremble her hand makes, as it sets the slice of cake right next to where Lena’s coffee mug is, is much more noticeable.

But Lena chooses not to comment on it, much to Kara’s relief. She pulls her hand back, wiping them both on her apron more as a nervous habit than a conscious move.

“I don’t remember ordering cake,” Lena says, but it’s not unkind.

Kara nips at her bottom lip, then frees it before answering. “It’s on the house.”

“Oh.” Lena isn’t—definitely isn’t—mesmerized by that sight. “Well, thank you.”

“It’s—I’ve been working on my baking. Alex says I may have the knack for it. She’s my sister by the way. She—she owns this place. She and her girlfriend. You may have met them once, when Nia and I had to miss work for some symposium thing at school. Not—not that I’m saying you’re here every day. Or that that’s a bad thing. In fact it’s a good—I’m very glad. Just super glad. That you are. Here, I mean.”

Lena’s able to pick a ton of things from that. But she doesn’t really think she has the emotional capability to unpack most of it right now, not when Kara’s standing right in front of her, fiddling with the hem of her apron nervously as she tries—and fails—not to stare at Lena, and Lena feels a weakness in her knees that only Kara has ever made her feel. So she chooses on the closest—lightest part to focus on. “Baking, huh?”

“Yeah,” Kara nods. “It’s my first cake of the day.”

Lena playfully narrows her eyes. “So I’m your guinea pig?”

“What?” Kara panics—well, almost does, if not for the laugh Lena cushions her teasing comment with. “It’s—no! I tried it first.”

(Just in case she somehow has mistaken salt for sugar again. But of course she doesn’t tell Lena that.)

“I’m just kidding, Kara,” Lena appeases. She shifts her gaze towards the slice of sweet pastry, noting the minced pieces of carrots spread cleanly all over the two layers. Lena knows it’s a total coincidence, but no one really has to know that she’d like to think it’s more, that Kara has picked her favorite out of all the possible choices.

Like quantum entanglement, her mind echoes.

“I’m sure it’s delicious. It certainly looks like it.”

“I really hope so,” Kara answers, nipping at her bottom lip again. “Or I’d be really, really embarrassed.”

“You’d never have to be.”

Silence fills the space again. But Lena feels something stretch over between them, feels it stronger when Kara twists as if to return to her spot by the cashier and says, “Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your day.”

It stretches further as Kara starts walking away, and then snaps taut when Kara gains one more step. It snaps Lena back into attention in turn, her mouth moving before her brain can even catch up to her. “Kara!”

Kara wheels around, tilting her head to look at Lena expectantly. “Yes?”

“Do you give baking lessons?” Lena then asks—and, okay, maybe her brain hasn’t really fully caught up yet.

“Sorry?”

“Do you—can you teach me how to bake?” Yes, definitely hasn’t caught up to her thought process yet. Her mouth and her brain really needs to cooperate. “It’s just, my brother’s birthday is coming up, and I was thinking I’ll make him his own cake instead of buying one.”

Maybe even put Happy Birthday, Baldie as the message, and, okay, maybe it isn’t too bad of an idea after all.

“I—” Kara begins to say, looking like she’s at a loss too. Lena can’t really blame her either. Yet, Kara agrees in the end, and Lena definitely doesn’t know how to deal with that. “Sure.”

In the heat of the moment—Lena will later on say, will refuse to call it anything but that—she grabs the book she’s set on the table, flipping to one of the blank pages at the very back. And then, she looks up at Kara, tipping her chin up to gesture towards the pen tucked inside one of the pockets of Kara’s apron. “Can I borrow your pen?”

Kara hands it wordlessly, and it’s only the slight crinkle in between her brows who speaks for her own confusion.

Lena will also later on say that there is a part of her that feels pained as she tears off half of the blank page. But for now, she does it without a single hint of remorse, and then scribbles out ten digits that may or may not set the next years of her life.

“Call me? And then we can talk about it.”

…

(Much, much later on, Lena will definitely say she’s never been more thankful for a slice of cake and a half-sized piece of paper.

It’s not in her vows, but she does tell Kara at some point, under a sea of stars, and amidst the sound of calm waves hitting the shore and her very own breathing finally coming down from a soaring height.)

…

“Figures. Your lady likes veggies in her pastries. That’s just so wrong.”

“Your favorite pie is literally pumpkin.”

“It’s an ancient recipe and has been proven to actually taste good. Carrot, though? It’s like, just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

“Nia.”

“Yeah, yeah, it got you the girl anyway.”

#supercorp #supercorptober2020 #myfics

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blackcatkita · 5 years

Text

264 Days

A Storyscape: Titanic fanfic

Pairing- Charlie x Adele

Word Count- 3994

A/N- I have no business writing this but here we are.

Possible trigger warnings- Emotional trauma, loss, alcoholism and survivor’s guilt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

January 3, 1913

Hileni ignored me when I told her we weren’t exchanging Christmas gifts and bought me this journal. I can’t scold her for it, I did get her a cat and I know she’s only trying to help. I think she thinks if I have somewhere to write my thoughts I’ll be able to move on; stop “avoiding life” as she puts it. But where do I even begin?

It’s been 264 days.

There are times I feel fine, more like myself, or how I used to be. I try to keep busy, working some fill-in hours at the shop and full time at my new job. It’s rewarding work, at an organization developed to aid survivors and immigrants find employment, housing, food… I’ve only been there for 6 weeks. I hope I’m making a difference, even if it is small.

Some days I can’t believe almost 9 months have passed. The nights are the worst when Hileni has gone to bed and it’s quiet. I will shut my eyes and be back there; watching the stern dive into the water, panicked faces all around me, hear screams or the notes of ‘Nearer My God to Thee’ drifting through the open window. Reminders come during the day as well. For just a few seconds the floor will seem to pitch, the air turns cold against my skin and I can feel the frigid water around my ankles. But the nights… the nights are the worst.

Still, I count myself lucky. I’m alive. Hileni is alive. Zetta, Matteo, Lena, Sabine, heck, even James that bastard, they’re alive. And Charlie… Charlie is alive. By some miracle, everyone I care about survived the tragedy but there were so many that didn’t. So, so, many…

I know I mustn’t dwell on the lost. We have to live our lives. We have to move forward. Though some of us are doing better than others.

Zetta wasn’t kidding when she said if she stopped she would start thinking. She went from the release party straight to filming her next project. I’ve received a few letters from her, asking how I am and gushing about Richard and the wedding. It seems she has some affection for her fiancé after all and not a moment too soon. The wedding is but two weeks away and I’m excited to go, it will be nice to see everyone together again.

Matteo has been wonderful. He took a job as head concierge at a high-end hotel downtown and it suits him. He seems happier than he was working for James. The hotel keeps him busy but he visits when he can and insists on getting me out of the house. We go to dinner, often with Hileni but sometimes not. He helped us find the two-bedroom flat we’re currently living in; made possible by $500 in an anonymous envelope addressed to me that was left at our old place. I’m sure it was from James, who else would have sent it? I asked Matteo if he knew anything about it and he claimed he didn’t but he averted his gaze and shifted his feet like he does when he’s hiding something. I would bet it was him who slipped it under our door.

He wants more from me. He said as much. Told me he would be waiting if I ever decided to give us a chance. I wish he wouldn’t. He needs to find someone who will love him the way he deserves to be loved and that someone isn’t me. It would be easier if it was but my heart belongs to someone else.

My love. My Charlie.

Charlie… my heart aches when I’m near him and it aches when I’m away from him. Many would say I did the wrong thing that night in the boiler room. He decided to stay behind, to sacrifice himself and I took it away from him. I fully admit it was a selfish thing to do but because of what I did his sisters still have a brother, his mother still has a son. I won’t apologize for that. I won’t apologize for saving his life. Is that what he needs to hear?

Almost two weeks passed after we talked at Zetta’s premiere before I saw him again when he came into the shop to tell me the ship to Southampton he meant to steward on left the night before. He was packed and ready but when it came time to embark he couldn’t make himself get on. I asked if he was afraid and he said no, there wasn’t any rush, he was making good money and another ship was leaving in a few weeks. When he didn’t get on the next one, he said there must be something keeping him in America after all.

I allowed the hope I felt at the premiere to grow and since then we’ve been spending more and more time together. Often he’s there to walk me home after work, taking detours through the park or stopping for ice cream. We go to the pictures and he’s over for dinner at least twice a week, staying to talk for hours after Hileni goes to her room. There’s been glimpses of how we used to be, an affectionate look, fleeting touches, his hand in mine or a kiss on my cheek, yet he still holds himself back. Gone is the Charlie I fell in love with. The man with the sparkling eyes and warm smile that could light up the world. He’s broken, and I’m the one responsible.

He’s drinking too much, haunted by those we left behind. Several times he’s come here late at night, so drunk he can barely stand and saying the things I long to hear from him sober. I make up the couch and sit with him until he falls asleep and in the morning he’s gone, leaving behind a thank you note apologizing for the night before. Just once, I wish he’d stay. Then I would know he…

A knock on the flat’s door startles me and my pen falls from my fingers, rolling across the desk and coming to a stop at the base of the lighted lamp. I glance out my bedroom window and am surprised to see how high the moon is in the darkened sky. It’s later than I realized. The knock sounds again, louder this time. Given the hour, it has to be Charlie. The knowledge of it makes my stomach flutter and my heart race. Quickly, I stand and slip into my robe, carefully making my way through the unlit parlor before the noise wakes Hileni.

Another knock sounds as I slide the bolt and open the door. The reprimand I intended to give dies on my lips as I take in the two men standing in front of me; Matteo, face pinched in an annoyed expression, half holding up a grinning Charlie. A sigh escapes me as I step to the side, opening the door wider to let them in. “Help him to the couch please, Matteo.”

“I’m fine. I can walk by myself.” Charlie pulls away from Matteo, stumbling into me as he crosses the threshold. “Whoa there,” he chuckles as I steady him with my hands on his waist. Looking into my eyes, his expression changes into something wistful. “My beautiful girl… My Adal…” He reaches up with both hands, one cupping my cheek and the other playing with a tendril of my long hair. “Your hair is down. I love when your hair is down.”

“Aren’t you on the make tonight.” Gently, I take his hand from my cheek, loop my arm around his waist and begin leading him to the sofa. “Come on, you, sit down before you fall down.”

Charlie scoffs but doesn’t otherwise argue, leaning heavily on me as Matteo shuts the door and follows us in. I stumble, nearly pulled down with Charlie as he collapses onto the sofa with a heavy sigh, as though sitting lifted some of the weight from his shoulders.

Matteo turns on the lamp beside us as I stand, then looks at me, brow furrowed only slightly. “Some tea, perhaps?”

I nod, recognizing from his expression the question is not about tea but wanting to speak to me privately. Walking into the kitchen, I turn the light switch on the wall before hurrying to fill the kettle. Ignoring the heat of Matteo’s gaze on my back from where he stands in the doorway, I set the kettle on the stove and crouch down, lighting a match to ignite the wood inside.

“How long are you going to let this continue?”

“As long as it takes,” I answer, blowing out the match and shutting the firebox door. I don’t look at him as I stand and move to the cupboard, mumbling as I take out a tin of tea and three cups. “It’s my fault he’s like this.”

I hear Matteo sigh before he joins me at the counter. “I’m not staying.” Eyes locked on mine, he takes the teacup from my hand, his fingertips lingering against my skin before he puts it back in the cupboard. Clearing his throat, he scoops tea leaves into the two remaining cups. “You have to stop blaming yourself, Adele. You had your reasons for doing what you did.”

“But does he understand that?”

“He does,” Matteo nods. “Your Charlie’s demons…” he pauses, choosing his words. “they aren’t named Adal.”

I blink up at him, surprised to hear him pronounce my given name, the name Charlie calls me. I open my mouth to speak but the sound of water boiling draws my attention and I take the kettle from the stovetop, turning back to fill the cups. “How did you end up with him anyway?” I ask Matteo while I pour, returning the pot to the stove as he answers.

“He was waiting outside the hotel when I got off my shift, demanding to know what was going on between you and me.”

“He what?” Panic rises in me as I worry over why Charlie would think Matteo was anything more than a dear friend. As far as I am aware, I have never given him cause to think otherwise, but Matteo tends to resort to sass when challenged. “What did you tell him?”

There’s a sadness in his eyes as he answers, “That he is a fool who could have everything if he only saw what was right in front of him.” Closing his eyes, he lets out a slow breath and shakes his head. “I… I have to go. Goodnight, Adele.” With those words he strides out of the kitchen, leaving me speechless as I watch him walk away.

The opening and closing of the front door shakes me from my stupor and I turn off the light before taking our tea into the parlor. Hileni stands before me, looking at the door in confusion. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were up.”

“Is Matteo okay?” she asks, glancing between myself and Charlie where he sits on our sofa, head leaning against the back with his eyes closed. “He didn’t say a word, only nodded at me and left.”

I shrug in response.

“I brought Charlie’s bedding out.” Hileni continues, gesturing at a blanket and pillow on the armchair.

Feeling a pang in my chest, I step forward to place the cups on the coffee table so she can’t see my expression. Charlie has come here in this condition enough times she thinks of our extra bedding as his. My little sister shouldn’t have to deal with it but I can’t turn him away. “Thank you, habibti. I’m sorry for waking you up. For… all of this. I’m sorry.”

She shrugs. “It’s Charlie. It’s fine, really.” Her lips twitch in a sad excuse for a smile before she heads back to her room, turning to look at me with a smirk on her face and her hand on the door. “Try not to keep me up, though.”

Shaking my head, I look up at the ceiling and fight back a smile. One of these days I’m going to remember how grown up and bold she’s become. “Go to bed!” I don’t even finish the sentence before she closes the door, giggling.

Letting out a sigh, I pick up the pillow and give it a fluff before slipping it between Charlie and the arm of the sofa. He doesn’t stir as I sit, facing him with my legs tucked beneath me and for a moment I watch his broad chest rise and fall with slow, steady breaths. My eyes trail up to his face, noting the differences between the man I met and the man before me now. In waking hours he looks tormented, older than his twenty-five years. His cheeks hollowed from weight loss, his eyes, dull and tired and a visible furrow between his brows more often than not. But in his sleep, he looks young again, peaceful and untroubled, more like the man he used to be. His hair has come loose from his usual smart style and I reach out, unable to stop myself from brushing it off his forehead.

A low hum of satisfaction sounds when my fingers caress his skin and with his eyes closed, he takes my hand, bringing it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“Lie down, Charlie. You’ll get a neck ache if you sleep like that.”

“I’m not sleeping.” He drops our joined hands between us and turns to look at me, his glazed eyes pleading as he looks into mine. “Sit with me. Just for a little while. Please.”

“Alright, just for a little while,” I agree. “I made tea but if you’re hungry I can get you something to eat.”

“Always taking care of me…” His lips slowly curl into a soft smile as he shakes his head. “I’m not hungry but, thank you.” The joy in his eyes is brief and slips away as he studies my face, replaced with something I can’t identify. Is it sadness? Longing? Desire? My breath catches in my lungs as he leans forward, brushing his fingertips across my cheek to stop me from turning away. His gaze drops to where he’s trailing his thumb across my bottom lip and when he speaks, his voice is thick with want. “Can I kiss you?”

I should say no. I should tell him he’s drunk and not thinking clearly. I should protect my heart. But as his warm brown eyes meet mine I know there is no protecting it, for it belongs to him. How I’ve longed to feel his soft lips upon mine again, to feel his heart beating in his chest as he held me in his arms, safe and warm. I should say no… I should say no, but my voice is breathless when I tell him, “Yes.”

His other hand comes up, joining the first to frame my face. He leans in further still, tilting his head as our eyes slide shut. The kiss is soft and hesitant, almost reverent as his lips brush against mine. He draws in a shaky breath, my name a whisper against my lips as he threads his fingers through my hair and cups the back of my neck. Wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me tighter to him, his lips part, groaning into my mouth as our tongues meet.

“Charlie,” I moan, looping my arms around his neck, both of us poring every ounce of heartache we’ve felt into the kiss until it turns desperate. “I love you.” His hands shake as he loosens his grip and breaks the kiss, pulling away only far enough to rest his forehead on mine. “I love you,” I tell him again, pressing another kiss to his trembling lips. His breath turns ragged and as I tell him I love him one more time, I’m not sure if the moisture on my cheeks is his or mine.

“I…” his voice hitches and he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. I pull back, opening my eyes to find him already watching me with tears running down his face. “Adal, I…” The look he gives me is full of pain, his expression one of sadness and desperation, but also love. Even if he can’t say the words the eyes don’t lie. He may be lost, he may need more time, but he loves me, and he’s never stopped.

“Shh… I know, it’s okay.” Tears of my own fall as I kiss and brush his away but they don’t stop and I gather him into my arms instead. Sliding his arms around my waist, he buries his face in the crook of my neck and begins to sob, clinging to me like I’m the very air he needs to breathe. “It’s okay, Charlie. Everything’s going to be okay.” I reassure him over and over, rubbing his back as the sobs wrack his body.

I don’t know how much time has passed when Charlie finally pulls away and sits forward, sniffling as he drags his forearm across his cheeks. He stares straight ahead, at a window reflecting the room around us then turns to look at me. Our eyes lock and he quickly looks away, picking up his cup of tea and taking three large gulps before setting it back down.

“We should get some sleep,” I tell him, using the cuff of my robe to dry my eyes. He nods silently in response, bending down to take off his shoes as I stand to get the blanket from the chair. Stretching out on his back, he closes his eyes as I cover him. “Charlie… you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Drinking this much… it isn’t you.”

There is no joy in the laugh he huffs out. “I don’t know what ‘me’ means anymore.”

I don’t respond. How can I when I wonder the same thing about myself? I bend down to kiss his cheek and he turns his head at the last second, making my lips press against his. The kiss is chaste, nothing more than a quick peck but my heart flutters none the less. Still not knowing what to say, I place another kiss to his forehead before turning off the lamp and heading to my room, only making it a few feet when I hear him speak.

“We left them behind… all those people.” His voice is quiet in the darkness. I can barely make out his profile from the moonlight shining through the window, laying there with his arm draped across his eyes. “John, the rest of the crew, the families in steerage… men, women, children, people that had families waiting for them… I knew them, Adal, and we left them behind.”

“I know, Charlie.” My throat tightens but my eyes stay dry. I don’t think I have any tears left. “But we lived… we lived.”

His breathing deepens so quickly I wonder if he even heard me, like his confession used the last of his energy and I slip quietly into my room. I take off my robe, sling it over the chair at my desk and turn off the lamp before crawling under the covers. Emotionally and physically exhausted, I begin drifting off to sleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, the feel of Charlies kiss still tingling on my lips.

I wake as the sun hits my face and slowly open my swollen eyes, turning away from the harsh glare coming through the window. I feel as though I hardly slept at all and goodness, I’m thirsty. And hungry, I realize as the scent of bacon hits my nose. Stretching my arms above my head, I let out a deep, satisfying yawn and swing my feet to the floor. I tie my hair back with a ribbon from the nightstand and get up, dreading what is waiting for me on the other side of the door. The couch will be empty, the blanket and pillow stacked neatly on the chair with a note on top; and Hileni in the kitchen, making me breakfast in an attempt to cheer me up while giving me sympathetic looks and asking questions I don’t have the answers to. It’s always the same but I can’t hide in here forever.

Taking a deep breath I walk into the parlor and my eyes automatically look to the couch, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he’d still be there. He isn’t, and neither is the bedding he used last night. Hileni’s large male cat, Earl Grey, aptly named for his color and his love of the beverage is happily slurping up the remains of our tea. He looks up at me with his big blue eyes, tongue running along his mouth to get every last drop. “Shoo,” I scold, waving my hand. He ignores me, dipping his face back into the cup and I step forward to coax him off the table. “Shoo, you beast!”

Hileni��s laughter floats out of the kitchen and I wonder she’s talking to when I hear her say, “You’re doing it all wrong! You’re going to burn it like that!”

Then I hear him laugh, and my heart stops beating.

“If you’ll remember I was the one who put together a picnic for you and your cabinmates, Hileni, I’ve got this.”

“Oh, please,” Hileni snorts. “You didn’t cook any of that. You stole it from the kitchens.”

“Well, that is true,” he laughs again, untroubled and carefree. “But I do know how to cook bacon so let me work.”

I’m dreaming, I must be. Rooted to the spot, I turn to look into my bedroom, convinced I’ll see myself still sleeping but all I see is the bed I have yet to make. I pinch myself. Nothing happens, though I’m not sure what the act is supposed to accomplish either way. Finally convinced I am awake and Charlie is here, butterflies take flight in my stomach. I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart and blink back the happy tears that have sprung in my eyes as I enter the kitchen. “What’s all this?” I ask, taking in the room. Hileni is by the pantry, reaching for something on her tip-toes and Charlie stands at the stove, transferring bacon from a cast iron skillet to a plate, like this is an everyday occurrence.

He turns at the sound of my voice and the smile he gives me lights up the room. “Damn, it was supposed to be breakfast in bed.”

“I told you bacon would get her up.” Rolling her eyes, Hileni sets a jar of maple syrup on the table. “He doesn’t listen that one.”

“I’ll remember it for next time,” Charlie chuckles, adding the plate of bacon to the table. With a gentle hand on my lower back, he pulls out a chair for me. “Sit, Adal, it’ll be ready in just a minute.”

Through narrowed eyes I watch the picture of domesticity taking place around me; Hileni bringing milk and coffee to the table, Charlie taking pancakes out of the oven where they were being kept warm. I pinch myself again, and when Hileni asks what I’m doing I tell her nothing, which only makes her laugh as she sits down and gives me a knowing look.

As happy as I am he stayed, a sliver of doubt remains this side of him won’t last. Reality will set in and he will hold me at arms-length once again. Then our eyes meet across the table and I see the familiar gleam I haven’t seen since the night of Zetta’s birthday party. The night we kissed under the stars before our world was turned upside down and I know what I said last night is true- Everything’s going to be okay.

#storyscape titanic #storyscape titanic fanfic #storyscape titanic fanfiction #charlie x adele #charlie x adal #charlie stoke #adele carrem

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superredcorp · 4 years

Text

SUPERCORP AU

Krypto got more training from that day on - of course always making sure that he didn't get overwhelmed and overworked. But the contrary was the case. He seemed to yearn for learning new things. He wanted the action and the activity. He was always excited when Kara brought him into the training room or went outside with him and Lena.

The focus lay mostly on training his powers, on making sure he really had them under control. That he wouldn't hurt anyone who was on the good side - this included trying as best as possible to work out his instinct of telling friend from foe.

He got better at using them too. And Kara actually greatly enjoyed having a dog with - mostly - the same powers as her. This lead to multiple times where "going for a walk" turned into running or flying across the country.

However they also tried their best in training him to be a guide dog for Lena. Sure, a professional might have been the better and easier way to go. But as it turned out, he had barely any problems in learning what guiding her meant.

After only a few tries, Lena was able to walk with him on the leash - while not needing to depend on her cane. Kara trailed behind just in case but she never needed to step in. It was as if Krypto knew exactly what to do.

Which resulted in Lena beginning to take walks with him on her own, not necessarily needing Kara next to her. Though they often went together, simply because they enjoyed these little moments together.

After some time, they realised that he didn't really need any more training in any field.

By the time, he had grown to his full height, he was almost a year old and a full-blown canine agent at the DEO as well as a fully capable service dog.

And though he spent most of his time with Lena, basically having been giving the job of bodyguarding her by Kara for times when she couldn't be there since she had to go out as Supergirl quite often.

However in some cases, she would take Krypto with her on missions - using the extra superpowered help he was able to give.

For the public, they came up with the simple explanation that they, Kara Danvers and Lena Luthor, took care of Supergirl's kryptonian dog whenever she couldn't. The people bought that lie pretty easily and so there weren't any suspicious looks when they went out with Krypto.

Sure, he could technically just be a dog who looked like the superdog who accompanied their heroine. But Krypto would sometimes start using his powers on instinct when a sudden obstacle came into Lena's way - like annihilating a tripping hazard with his heat vision instead of simply moving it out the way with his snout or coming to a halt to inform Lena about it.

Therefore it was safer if the public knew that he actually was Krypto and had an explanation at the same time for why he was so often found with the Luthor woman.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - sorry for the rather abrupt transition - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lena stood in the lab, working on a protect and simultaneously texting Kara. She knew that the blonde always tried keeping her cool while writing text messages since the agent who was with Lena would hear them being read out as well. But that day, she was especially brief and not really participatory.

Lena knew something was up and she had her suspicions about what it could be.

She decided to call her. Kara picked up just shortly after.

"Hey, Lee-"

"Is that guy bothering you again? What was his name? William Dey?", Lena flat-out asked.

There was a moment of silence on the other line. Then she could hear Kara sigh.

"Yeah.", she said softly.

Lena's jaw clenched. There was no way she'd let this keep happening. Sure, Kara handled worse things than a pushy guy everyday but she couldn't do much against him as it was her work place.

Lena however didn't have her hands tied in that way.

"I'm coming over.", she said determined.

"Lee-"

"I love you.", Lena said, not letting Kara utter the protest, she would surely give, and hung up.

She took Krypto's leash and the dog already jumped up in excitement.

The agent knew better than to argue when she asked him to drive her to CatCo.

Just a little while later, she entered the building. The agent trailed behind her, so he could tell her where to go. Krypto may be leading her and preventing her from bumping into things or running into traffic, but he couldn't be expected to know where the elevator was or which button to press inside.

As she stepped out of the elevator on the required floor, she could rely on Krypto again.

"Take me to Kara, okay, buddy?", she whispered.

Krypto gave a buzzing noise and began walking straight ahead.

Lena could basically feel eyes landing on her as she walked across the floor with Krypto on the leash.

After a few seconds, Krypto gave a quiet, excited bark, probably to announce their presence to Kara.

And sure enough, Lena could hear Kara's voice as well as another male one.

The conversation was interrupted when Kara exclaimed: "Lena!"

"Hello, love.", Lena smirked, purposefully drawing out the pet name.

"What are you doing here?", Kara asked, while taking her hand. Lena could almost hear the smile on her girlfriend's face.

"Oh, I'm mainly here to do this.", Lena replied with a shrug, pulling her hand out of Kara's to glide it up her arm until resting it on her neck. Then she pulled her close into a passionate kiss.

When they pulled back, Kara's smile had broken out into a full grin. Lena smirked again.

"Well, certainly not complaining about that.", Kara whispered.

"Miss Luthor.", she heard the male voice say again. "It's nice to meet you. I'm-"

"William Dey, I assume.", Lena said, voice turning cold as she turned her head into the direction, she assumed him to be. "Yes, Kara told me about you."

"She did?", William asked, sounding incredibly conceited. Lena didn't know what he looked like but she just knew he threw Kara a glance and smirked. She knew guys like this.

"Yes, indeed. She told me about all the times you were flirting with her, even after telling you to stop. How you are constantly bothering her and acting mindlessly annoying and respectless."

She imagined his smile getting wiped off his face and found satisfaction in it.

"I would suggest that you stop that. She's a taken woman. You should accept that. Otherwise, my friend Krypto here will take great pleasure in taking care of you."

As if on cue, Krypto let out a quiet growl.

The man stayed silent for a while, maybe outweighing his options.

"Of course. I understand.", he said reluctantly. "I'm sorry for overstepping."

Lena gave a nod and then heard footsteps, indicating he left.

Kara's arms wrapped around her waist and her chin came to rest on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Lee.", she whispered, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek.

Lena simply smiled.

"I mean that was amazing. But it was also really hot, if I'm honest.", Kara chuckled before sighing. "I love you."

Lena turned around in Kara's arms to wrap her own ones around her neck, making sure Krypto's leash didn't get tangled up in the meantime. "And I love you."

Kara leaned forwards to kiss her again and then rested her forehead against Lena's. They stayed that way for a while until Lena finally decided it was time to go back. Especially considering that the agent was still waiting by the elevator for her return. Kara gave her one last kiss, as well as Krypto who was impatiently wagging his tail, and then watched her girlfriend leave with a proud, happy smile.

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inkedsoldier · 5 years

Text

AMOR VINCIT OMNIA - Chapter Four

A/N: Here it is – chapter four of the AMOR VINCIT OMNIA series! Grab a handful of tissues and sit down, because we are going on an emotional ride. The original chapter was way longer than anticipated, so I had to split it in two. Chapter five will now be the second part of this chapter. I hope you enjoy & please let me know what you think about the series so far! Thanks for all the support!

Y/N = Your name.

Y/F/N = Your first name.

Y/L/N = Your last name.

Characters: Sam Drake, Nathan Drake, Elena Fisher, Jameson, Y/N.

Warnings: angst.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Masterlist

Chapter Four

Unlocking the Past

New Orleans, November 2015

(15 years later)

It was a fine day in New Orleans. The week long storm had washed every sidewalk and gutter clean. The vibrancy of the city had bounced back in the instant the clouds cleared, and already the parks were a hum of activity again. You enjoyed feeling the warmth of the brilliant rays of sunshine on your face as you walked towards the docks. Around three years ago you and Nate took on a normal job after you found the lost the city of Ubar, the Atlantis of the Sands. Jameson, the owner of the salvage company Jameson Marine, hired you both instantly after getting knowledge of your “qualities”. Nate was already in doing some paperwork for today’s job and smiled when he saw you entering the small office, “Hey you! Had a nice weekend?” You chuckled as you answered Nate’s question, “Well, let’s say, I’m glad it’s Monday! I can’t wait to put on my wetsuit and look for some wrecks.” I walked over to him and gave him a warm hug. “So, your date didn’t work out then?” he asked while you sat down behind your desk. “Oh, hell no! I’ve never met such an uneducated pig as him. Damn. It was awful, Nate!” you replied to him with a disgusted look on your face. Five years after Sam’s death you tried to start dating again, but nothing took you further then some drinks at a local bar. “Ah, seriously? There must be someone out there perfect for you. I’m sure about that,” Nate told you before he left the office to check the equipment for the dive.

Later that day “If you don’t find it soon, I’m calling it,” Jameson said through the communication system. You had been looking for the wreckage for almost twenty minutes, and the tanks were already down to a quarter. “We’ll find it,” Nate answered. “Ah… there you are. Found it! It’s beat up, but intact. A lot of the crates is still strapped down, but by my count we’re shy two,” you said before starting your search for the other crates. It took a few minutes before you and Nate found the other two and the cargo was accounted for. With the help of Jameson you lifted the wreck out of the water and cleared the river of just another piece of rust. “I’m gonna stink like fish for a week,” you chuckled as you walked towards Nate and your boss with your tank in hand. “…look at that. We struck copper,” Nate said with an unamused look on his face. “Well, you’d be surprised how much this stuff is worth. Client’s paying good money for the full recover,” Jameson told you as he closed the crate again. “Well, I’m going to freshen up a bit and finish the paperwork for the client, so they can pick up this treasure,” you laughed as you walked off towards the locker rooms.

The day went on and the paperwork was piling higher and higher. “Save the trees, huh” you sighed as you picked up the next file. The clock ticks on the wall and time seems to slow down again. Sitting here makes you think over the choice to live a normal life. Jameson told you about the news from one of his contacts about the Malaysia job earlier this afternoon, but he had to get Nate on board. Not having any permits made that task pretty difficult for him. Jameson wants to take on the job to finally be able to retire, but you want the job purely for adventure; you missed the action. You finished the last paperwork for today and closed the office. Nate had already left, because he promised Elena to be home early for dinner today. When you headed back home your hair fluttered in the air, as the cold wind stroke your skin. You owned a car, and a motorcycle, but some days you loved walking; it cleared your mind.

As you lay down on the couch, covered by an old checked plaid, you could hear the gentle tapping of raindrops against the window. These were your favourite kind of nights, where you didn’t have to feel bad about not leaving the house to be social. You already cleaned the kitchen and took some time to read one of the books you recently bought in a local bookstore. Absorbed in the historical theme of the book, you transported to another reality. Reading was like an escape from reality; it takes over your imagination to fantasize about whatever you want without the worry of being judged. Unfortunately, the sound of your phone took you out of the world in your mind. You move around the room, and almost trip over the boots you kicked off a few hours earlier. “Where the hell is that stupid thing?” you mumble as you try to steady yourself looking for your mobile phone. A few moments later you find it still in the pocket of your jacket. As you swipe through the notification, you notice a text from Elena and start typing.

Lena: Hey! You want to come over tomorrow for dinner?

Y/N: Yeah, love to come over. Shall I bring something from the bakery across the street?

Lena: Oh, god! Yes, please! Loved the cappuccino brownies from last time.

Y/N: Deal! See you tomorrow. X

You loved spending time with Elena and Nate; you would always talk about adventures and yet unlocated treasure. Elena was still a reporter and wrote a lot of articles about hidden fortune and beautiful uncharted destinations. You smile as you put down your phone on your desk as you spot one of your favourite finds from one of your adventures; a small silver jewellery box. It was one of your first finds in the jungle when you were looking for El Dorado with Nate and Sully. You didn’t know how old it was, but the carvings made it special. There was a little heart on top of it with the letter S engraved in it. When you discovered it, it felt like it was meant to be found by you. Even after all these years you still missed Sam. Nate eventually stopped talking about him and so did you, but you were still broken hearted; maybe that’s why dating didn’t work out for you. There are things in your life that you did give up, but Sam wasn’t one of them. The little jewellery box kept two things safe for you. One of them was a silver necklace with a little heart, which Sam gave you on one of your first dates. “I think it’s time to wear you again,” you spoke softly as you hang the piece around your neck. You took it off before one of your diving jobs a couple of months back and totally forgot to put it back on. When you take the other valuable out of the box you need a moment to catch your breath – your eyes start to water as you unfold the little piece of paper. It was the print of the ultrasound you had taken less than a week before you lost the baby. “You would have been a teenager by now, little one” you mumble as you touch the heart on your necklace.

The next day Before the day has started for most of the people in the neighbourhood, you’re already in your kitchen, fully dressed and ready to start a busy day at work. Outside it is still as black as night, and only the clock tells you the difference in time. These are the days you live for; waking up before the alarm and getting ready while it’s still dark. You lock the door behind you and walk towards your motorcycle, which is parked next to your old jeep. The lights of the bike shine as smudged stars, the thick mist cold upon your skin. The asphalt was like charcoal under the early morning sky, only the white lines gleamed under the headlamps. Here and there were dark patches where potholes had been filled. The bridge near the docks arched elegantly over the green river. It was the only way to cross from one side of the city to the other. The moment you arrive at the docks you see Nate’s car parked in front of the small office. “Hm... he probably couldn’t sleep,” you chuckle as you make your way towards the small space.

“Hey, early bird, did you have problems sleeping again?” you laugh when Nate appears in the opening of the door. “I… I…” Nate stuttered as he walks outside. “Hey, you okay? You don’t look so good,” you say as you wrap your arms around him. “You are scaring me, Nathan!” Just as he is about to answer you another person comes out of the office space. This can’t be. Sam steps from the shadows, stealing your breath; your heart starts to beat erratically as you struggle to process what’s happening. Before he can say anything, you run away as fast as you can towards the end of the dock. Sam wants to run after you, but Nathan holds him back guiding him to the nearest bench. “Give her some space, Sam. She needs it.” “Yeah, of course,” Sam nods. “But I didn’t expect…” “Yeah, me neither. She is often early to start with paperwork, but I think this is a bit too much to digest in the early morning,” Nate explains to him as he catches a sight of your figure standing at the other side of the dock. “I want to hear about you, huh?” Sam says as they finally sit down. “About me and Y/N?” Nate answers, clearly still trying to process what happened in the last thirty minutes. “Yeah, I called some of the old contacts and they tell me some pretty crazy-ass stories of you,” Sam explains. “Jesus… what crazy stories?” “Gut-shot, hanging from a derailed train in the Himalayas?” Sam continues. “Yeah, that ah… actually happened.” Nate confirms as he thinks about where to start. There is so much to tell. So much he and you experienced during your adventures abroad. “Okay, um… Do you remember the theory that we had that Sir Francis Drake faked his own death?” “Yeah, sure.” “Okay… He did. Y/N and I found the coffin.” Sam shakes his head in unbelief. “Off the coast of Panama?” Nate starts to laugh and confirms.

Your eyes fill with tears. The walls that hold you up, that made you strong, just collapsed. They break down by the second. Salty drops fall from your chin, drenching your shirt. You press your face in your hands, while you try to stop trembling. Why can’t I stop crying? Brick by brick the walls came tumbling down. You broke down; it was a moment of unlocking the past. All the emotion that you had hidden away in the last fifteen years came at you like a freight train. For so long you had thought that he was gone; never to be seen again. And now Sam was back, out of nowhere he appeared in front of you. You didn’t know what to say, or how to handle this situation. Emotions came to your mind like waves meeting land.

“I mean, what can I say? Another lost city destroyed, and uh… we made it out alive… barely,” Nate told Sam as he finished the story about the adventure in Arabia. Sam was quiet, in total disbelief. Nate looks towards where you were standing and noticed that you sat down against one of the wooden pillars at the end of the docks. “I think it’s time for you to talk to her, Sam” he speaks softly as he points towards you. “You think so? Do you think she is mad at me?” Sam asks as he tries to find the guts to walk to you. “No, she is not mad at you. She is just terrified. I haven’t told half of what happened in the last fifteen years, Sam. And I think it’s up to Y/N… when she is ready… to tell her side of the story.”

Tag list: @kiara-arts @wintermuteway

#sam drake #nate drake #sam drake x reader #Nathan drake x reader #reader insert #uncharted #series #videogame #fanfiction #sam drake series #y/n #uncharted 4 #amor vincit omnia

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anocchristmas · 5 years

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Merry Christmas to @katiesocs

Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly.

There was a time before 1941 when Murphy had been very excited about maybe one day meeting his soulmate. One of his eyes was a nice ocean blue and the other a deep chocolate brown. As tacky as it may have sounded, he liked both colors. It felt wrong to prefer one color over the other as it was a mystery which one belonged to his soulmate and which was his. He spent an embarrassing amount of time picturing himself with both blue eyes or both brown eyes, and picturing a soulmate with the opposite pair of eyes. He had imagined how their first meeting would go; in a small corner diner in the neighborhood, Murphy tucked in a corner sketching as a tall handsome guy leaned over to compliment his work. They’d talk and wouldn’t notice their eyes had changed until one of them pointed it out, they’d exchange numbers and eventually get married. Atleast, that’s how he hoped it would happen. Unfortunately for him, things most likely wouldn’t happen that way.

Having been in Brooklyn in 1941 and being gay made the whole concept of soulmate matching more complicated. Granted, it would have been easier to find his soulmate than be able to live a happy life with them at that time. Having to spend the rest of his life with a person who is supposed to be his match made in heaven, but being forced to hide it because of the way society viewed people like him? It terrified him. What if his soulmate couldn’t handle a life like that? What if he couldn’t? These thoughts plagued his mind every night and they only became worse when kids in his class found their soulmates.

Of course maybe he wouldn’t find his soulmate at 17, maybe he’d be older with a stable job and living somewhere where his lifestyle wouldn’t be criticized or frowned upon. Or maybe his soulmate would be someone rational enough to keep his thoughts and worries at bay. They could live in a time or place where everything would be fine. He wished he didn’t have to be old, or dead to experience something like that. Except, after receiving the beating of his life in an alley, Murphy meets Briar and is turned partially immortal. Which, cool, but also, how was he supposed to live a fulfilling life with his soulmate now? It only brought a wave of new worries and he tried not to think about them too much. Besides, he’s super strong now.

As the years passed and the color of his eyes remained unchanged, Murphy’s hope of meeting his soulmate plummeted drastically after every decade. It’s not uncommon for someone to never meet their soulmate before dying, he’d just be part of the small percentage that doesn’t. Besides, it’s not like he’d be alone. Briar had also never met her soulmate and she didn’t seem as bothered by it as Murphy. He guessed it’s because she had lived longer and had made her peace with it. He couldn’t wait to get to that point so he wouldn’t have to think about it so much. He was tired.

Eventually they had settled in a small town of Beacon Hills. They had lived in so many towns since he had become part of the clan that he’d lost count and stopped caring about the names. It wouldn’t matter anyway. They’d have to relocate after a few years when people start to question why they still look so young. Murphy had grown accustomed to it. Moving around so much had left little room for friendships and attachments. But it was also the fact that he’d outlive mostly anyone he met that held him back from socializing much. Most of his interactions were limited to the clan and anyone Briar has business with, being that he was second in command and all that. And if he sometimes ventured out by himself to be around people in hopes of casually meeting his soulmate, then that was nobody’s business.

On one of their “off” days, while Briar is out without him, Murphy finds himself becoming ansty. Nothing is easing his need to want to do something, not even drawing. He’s gone through at least half his sketchbook, but can’t seem to complete a whole sketch without giving up halfway through. Eventually he slams his pencil down on his desk and pushes the sketchbook away, cursing loudly, as one does. The clan members, Lena, Elliot, and Tipper, ignore his outburst and continue to do whatever it is their doing from where they’re lounging about in the room.

“I'll be right back” He announces. Only Tipper acknowledges him as he heads out the door.

“Don’t die!” Tipper yells out, and somehow Murphy finds that reassuring.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, given that he doesn’t really know the town well. Or at all. But the sound of faint dance music leads him to a club on the outskirts of the downtown area. There are small groups of muscled men, some nearly naked, standing outside of the building. Murphy watches for a moment before deciding to head inside. He flashes the bouncer his most current fake ID card and brushes past the tall men by the door.

The music is way too loud, with too much bass, it nearly raptures his ears. He adjusts to the noise quickly enough and bee lines to an empty corner where he can be left alone but still be able to see almost everything. If human 1941 Murphy could see him now, openly gay, sitting in a gay club, living with no fear of who he is. It’s freeing, really.

Someone sends him a drink, a lean man with light brown hair and a big smile, he waves at Murphy from the bar as the server sets the drink on the table. Murphy raises his glass as a thank you and silently hopes the guy doesn’t come over. And he doesn’t, thankfully, leaving Murphy to solitude like he’d intended.

Going to clubs isn’t something he does often, but he does like to check out the scene every couple years just to see how things are. It’s good to see how much better things have gotten since the 40s, and he’s weirdly glad that he’s been able to see firsthand how progressive people have become. Not that things are 100%, but they’re better.

He doesn’t stay long and he doesn’t finish the drink the man bought him, not that he can get drunk anyway.

Walking briskly through empty allies probably isn’t the best idea Murphy has had, given that the town is packed with hunters and other supernatural beings, but he makes it back to the forest in a breeze. It’s quiet for a moment, but the sounds of running and yelling and growling quickly reach his ears and he finds himself heading toward the noise. Another great idea on his end, really.

The scene is hectic. There’s a young woman hiding behind a tree as two figures roll around on the ground fighting. It’s hard to see much from where he’s standing, but Murphy can see one of them is losing horribly. He sees flashes of yellow and white eyes, and then the yellow is launched about 100 feet in the air and into a tree.

“Oh shit.” He says dumbly as the figure with white eyes turns to face him. He looks over at the girl still hiding, clutching the tree as if it’ll be enough to keep whatever that is away. “You should probably run.”

And then he’s rumbling with the thing too.

It’s strong, Murphy notices right away. He stumbles a bit as he tries to hold his own against it and it doesn’t take long for him to get launched like a toy, but thankfully he didn’t get thrown at a tree. Oh right. He looks over to the other person on the ground, struggling to get up. He sees the yellow eyes, fangs, and pointy ears and figures that he’s a werewolf. They’re doomed if neither of them can take this thing down together.

“Might wanna hurry up there, Larry Talbot.” He feels an uncontrollable urge to help the person, to make sure they’re okay. It’s weird and it’s gone when they push themselves off the ground to go at the creature again. Brave fucker, then.

Murphy staggers to his feet, and throws himself into the fight again. The werewolf is down on the floor in a second, falling flat on his stomach. The second it takes Murphy to look down to make sure he’s not hurt is enough time for the wendigo to crouch down and sink its teeth into Murphy’s thigh. He yells out in pain and falls to his knees because what the fuck that’s a lot of teeth.

Murphy must black out or something because the next time he opens his eyes he’s lying on the forest floor, alone. He looks around for any sign of the yellow eyed werewolf or the beast, but there’s nothing, not even a sound. The wound on his leg is almost fully healed, but Murphy can still practically feel all the teeth in his flesh, it’s gross, really. Slowly, he rises to his feet, shakes off the dirt from his clothes, fixes his hair, and heads home. Briar isn’t home yet, thankfully, so he walks straight to his room and lays on the floor.

Some time later there’s a knock on his door, which means there’s a clan meeting, so he makes his way to the living room where everyone, including Briar, is waiting. He takes a seat on the arm of the couch next to Lena and Briar takes that as a cue to start.

“There’s a wendigo loose in the area” She says. Tipper is the first to raise a hand.

“Those are the ones that shapeshift right?”

“Technically, most supernatural beings can shapeshift” Elliot replies from the opposite end of the couch. Then as an afterthought adds, “So you’re not wrong.”

“Am I ever?”

Elliot makes a face.“Well…”

Tipper glares at Elliot then turns to Lena. “Have I ever been wrong? Don’t lie.”

Lena looks at the finger Tipper is pointing at her, then looks up. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Wow. Unbelievable.”

“Wendigos live off eating human flesh” Elliot supplies, because of course Elliot knows what it is.

“Ah. Cannibals.” Tipper nods, “Hey aren’t we somehow cannibals too?”

Elliot is pinching the bridge of their nose, mentally preparing to hear whatever it is Tipper is going to say.

“I mean. Right? We drink human blood, that’s like one step away from human flesh.” Everyone groans as Tipper seems to be having a crisis. “I’m not a cannibal, but who knows.”

“Guys.” Briar warns. They all shut their mouths and go back to paying attention to what she has to say. “It’s apparently already gotten three people, including one tonight. So can we please be serious about this.”

“Wait. Was it a girl?” Murphy asks. “The one that got killed?”

Maybe he should’ve tried a little more than telling the girl to run. If she got killed because of him…. he pushes the thought away and waits for Briar’s response instead.

“No, it was a guy. He was with a girl, but I managed to get her home safely.” Briar says, then looks at Murphy. “How did you-”

Briar stops abruptly and stares with an open mouth, and soon Murphy can feel the stares from the rest of the clan. He looks over at them, then at Briar, then back.

“What the fuck are you guys staring at?” He looks down at his clothes and notices that they’ve got dirt all over and there’s a twig stuck to his sweater. “Oh. Yeah I might’ve snuck out and fought the wendi-whatever”

Apparently that isn’t enough of an answer because they’re still staring at him as if he’d grown a second head. “What? Stop fuckin looking at me like that”

“Murph….” Briar begins, but can’t seem to get the words out. Now they’re all starting to freak him out.

“If no one tells me what the fuck is going on i’m going to-“

“Bro. Your eyes.” Tipper says. And what? what about them?

“Okay?” He’s a little panicked now. Are they bruised or something? The fuck.

“They’re both blue” Elliot adds.

Both blue. What the fuck? He nearly throws up, for some reason. How did he manage to meet his soulmate and miss it? Fuck.

“Fuck” He breathes out as he runs his fingers through his hair, going over all the events from tonight. Who could it have been? Somehow the wendigo situation is put on hold and they're all trying to figure out who the lucky guy might’ve been. They probe him for questions and he answers as best he can because honestly the only thing on his mind is What The Fuck?

They somehow narrow it down to five people. Murphy is still in shock an hour later, and stares at the wall they’ve made into their mystery board. Or whatever. It’s full of post-its of different colors and sizes, most with their names crossed out. The five left on the board are moved to the center, all in order of most likely to least likely. Tipper is the most excited about it, having gone through at least three red bulls.

Server Bar Guy Bouncer Wendigo Yellow Eye Guy

“We’re going to find this dude, alright? I swear to you.” Tipper holds Murphys face in their hands, Murphy swats them away and stands. He apparently hadn’t moved since he found out about his eyes.

“Alright alright get back” He straightens his jacket and moves closer to the wall. He squints at one of the names. “Seriously? The Wendigo?” The Wendigo is my soulmate?”

“It could be. Can’t rule anyone out”

“That’s…” Murphy shakes his head and sighs. “Alright. I guess. Whatever.”

They all go into a whole discussion about how they’re going to track down every single person on the list and Murphy is surprised that Briar is joining in on their hijinks. Their excitement is kind of contagious, he finds himself buzzing. or shaking. He can’t tell.

“Shouldn’t the cannibal be first on the list? since it’s, ya know, a priority?” Murphy asks.

“Yeah but what if we die before we can get halfway through the list?” Tippy says, as if duh. Murphy shakes his head.

“Right.” He says. “Right.”

Somehow they all make it back to the club where Murphy had spent his time earlier that night. Tippy practically runs into the Bouncer asking a million questions per second. The poor guy looks at the rest of them asking for help. Elliot tugs Tipper away and asks what they need to ask.

“Have you matched today?” The man shakes his head. “Matched 6 years ago. Sorry.”

After showing their IDs, they all head inside and wait for Murphy to guide them to whoever the Bar Guy is, and the server. Luckily, the server is still on the clock, Elliot and Tipper beeline to the guy as soon as Murphy points him out. They stop a couple feet away from him and then head back.

“Unmatched” They say at the same time.

They can’t find Bar Guy anywhere and Murphy is scared that maybe he left and they won’t be able to find out if they matched. They’re about to lose hope when Murphy bumps into someone and it turns out to be Bar Guy. One eye green, one eye light brown. It’s a no then.

“Hey! It’s you!” He exclaims excitedly, clearly drunk. “Oh sorry, I didn’t know you were matched.”

Murphy half laughs. “Yeah”

The club is a dead end and now they’re left with a Wendigo and Yellow Eye Guy. Fuck, what if it’s the Wendigo?

——

There’s a meeting with local werewolves and hunters the next day that Murphy is supposed to go to, being second in command and all. He really doesn’t want to go, but he showers and changes into his Fancy Hoodie and is on his way. They meet up at a veterinary clinic a couple minutes away, because that’s where meetings are held nowadays. They’re greeted by a bald man that Briar calls Deaton who leads them into a back room where three men are standing around an examination table.

The youngest one of the three is standing with his arms crossed, gaze stern. His eyes unmatched, one eye dark brown and the other a grey green. The older man next to him has matched eyes, both green. The other a cold blue pair. He doesn’t realize how much he’s been paying attention to people’s eyes again, it’s been awhile since he last cared.

He stands to Briars left, not saying a word for the rest of the meeting. The werewolves–– that he’s learned are named Derek and Peter–– had been out hunting it down along with the other older man, a hunter named Chris. They haven’t figured out exactly who the wendigo is, so that's their next step. If there’s one, there’s usually a whole group of them, sometimes whole families. Murphy only listens to about half of what they say, but he manages to absorb enough out of the conversation to relay information to the rest of the clan in case they have questions.

When the meeting is over, they all go their separate ways, Briar and Murphy going straight to the clan to catch them up on what they’ve learned. The three members are huddled around the “Soulmate Wall”, Tipper staring intently at the remaining two names. Murphy appreciates the devotion, and he’s glad they’re all putting in effort to help him, but he’s also a bit terrified of finding out who exactly his soulmate is. And he’s also afraid of not finding out. He never thought it would be like this once he matched.

Briar calls for a quick meeting, peeling the three from the wall. She’s about to start speaking when Tipper stands abruptly, sniffing around.

“I smell blood”

And they’re off. Human blood can mean another attack, or death. Briar takes the lead, a look of determination in her eyes. She’s not one to let others die when she’s around and neither are the rest of the members, so they’re moving as fast as they physically can. When they reach the source of the scent, they’re met with a lanky pale boy sitting on the floor tending to his palms as a boy with wavy hair crouches next to him. They both jump up when they realize they’re not alone.

“Oh there's more.” The pale boy says as he hides behind his friend, or soulmate. Murphy can see that they’re both matched from where he’s standing. “We’re gonna die.”

“Who are you?” The other boy asks. Murphy can’t stop staring. He feels warm inside.

“You two shouldn’t be out here.” Briar says instead of answering. If the wendigo were to catch the scent of the boys blood, then he’d be in a lot of trouble.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” The one closest to them answers, he glances over at Murphy and sends a shiver down his spine. What the fuck is up with him today?

“Yeah he’s-“ The pale one starts, then cringes a bit. “He’s capable of taking care of himself”

Briar pauses for a moment then shakes her head. She must recognize who they are.

“You must be Stiles and Scott.” She says.

The two boys exchange a confused glance. “How did you know that?”

“Derek,” She tells them. “He told me we’d be likely to run into you.”

They’re all interrupted by a loud screech coming from further into the woods. The one with an uneven jawline says a name, Murphy thinks it’s Allison, then runs off in the direction of the noise. His soulmate probably. Murphy doesn’t understand why he’s so disappointed, but he has no time to think about it because Briar is running to the commotion too.

“Yeah, you guys just— I'll wait here.” The pale boy says as they begin running off one by one. Tipper salutes the boy and laughs before leaving him there with a bloody hand, which probably isn’t a good idea with a wendigo on the loose. But they’re all gone so Murphy leaves too.

They find a half injured Wendigo trying to fight with the guy from earlier. There are a couple arrows sticking out from its back, all probably from the tall girl in a long black coat holding a very modern bow. She’s still shooting at it, trying to immobilize it enough for them to take it on, but it’s almost like the arrows are doing nothing to it.

“Scott!” She yells out just as the wendigo sends the guy, Scott, flying. He crashes right on top of Murphy who’d been standing a few feet behind him. Groaning, Murphy pushes him off and shakes off the leaves on his clothes.

“That thing just loves throwing people around.” He mumbles, readying for a fight. the clan members are already going up against it and it’s just barely enough. Soon they’re all being thrown around like rag dolls, it’s hard to see who’s being thrown where and who’s who. It’s all a blur really, until a shot is fired and the thing falls to the ground with a thud. Everyone’s eyes go to Chris, who’s still holding the gun up.

“Don’t worry, I used a tranquilizer.” He reassures Scott who looks disheveled and a bit scandalized. He must be anti murder or something. “It won’t keep him down long, let’s get him to Eichen.”

Briar nods, then stretches an arm out to help the arrow girl Murphy assumes is Allison. She helps her up off the ground and then both of them freeze.

“Oh!!!!” Tipper yells out. “Holy shit you’re matching.”

Everyone keeps their distance, letting the two have their moment. The clan is buzzing with excitement, including Murphy who lets himself forget that he has a soulmate out there somewhere that he might not ever meet. At Least Briar found hers. He notices that the pale guy, Stiles, is somehow now next to his friend, he was probably hiding out in the trees.

Murphy watches intently as Stiles approaches the wendigo carefully, peeling its eyes open. He frowns as he shuffles away back to Scott.

“He’s unmatched.” He hears him say. Were they hoping he was matched? Well now Murphy knows the wendigo isn’t his match either. That’s good, then. “We’ll find your Larry Talbot, buddy”

At that, Murphy’s head snaps over to the pair. “He called me Larry Talbot though,” Scott clarifies. And Murphy’s head is spinning. Could Scott be Yellow Eyed Guy? How does he ask? Should he get Tipper to ask? “I don't even know who that is.”

“He’s the, uh, original wolf man.” Murphy says. “From 1941.”

“Huh.” Stiles says, hands on his hips. Scott stares intently at Murphy, it kind of makes him squirm.

“You…” Scott starts to say, taking a small step forward. “I recognize your voice. It was you.”

Murphy absolutely freezes. So it is Scott. That explains the warm feeling inside when he was around him, the same feeling he feels right now. The two stare at each other for a second too long that Stiles starts looking between the two excitedly.

“Oh, my god!” He exclaims in the same tone as Tipper a few minutes earlier. “Dude!”

“Yellow Eyed Guy!!!!!” Tipper yells, grinning.

Everything turns into a blur of hugs and yelling and congratulations that Murphy doesn’t even realize when the wendigo was taken away and when a group of people turned into just Scott and him. It’s calm, finally, and he’s glad that his soulmate didn’t turn out to be a flesh eating supernatural creature. After nearly 100 years, of living a life of not knowing who he could end up with, of worrying that maybe he wouldn’t have one because of what he became, he’s finally found someone that’s brave, with a good moral compass, and cute. Someone he still has to get to know, that makes him excited to want to learn everything about them. The thought makes him happy.

“So, soulmates?” He says nervously. A kind smile spreads across Scott’s face, it makes Murphy swoon.

“Soulmates.”

#murphy #anocchristmas2019 #an oc christmas 19 #drabble #fandom: teen wolf

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highfivecalum · 5 years

Text

Love and Communication {CH} 2

Previous Chapters: One

✧✧✧

When Lena woke up the next morning, her head was pounding and she didn’t recognize the light beige curtains that were absolutely not doing a good job at keeping out the sun. She groaned and rolled over, bumping into a body in the process, and fully opened her eyes. When she saw Calum laying there naked, eyes closed and mouth parted, with his newly dyed hair a mess everywhere she bit her lip to stop the smile from taking over her face.

They were drunk last night, but not drunk enough to forget or regret what happened. Lena remembered every single detail from the night before. The kiss at the bar that led them walking down the street hand in hand to Calum’s apartment, led them to the kitchen where Lena sat on top of the counter with Calum’s face between her thighs, and led them to Calum’s bedroom where he made Lena feel better than she had ever felt before.

It was as if Calum could feel her eyes on him as he opened his slowly, the sun nearly blinding him, but he kept his eyes open. He couldn’t believe what had had happened. He had wanted that to happen for four years, since the day he and Lena found out both of their favorite bands were Green Day and Motley Crue. “Good mornin’.” Calum voice was deep and raspy and Lena found herself entranced by it.

She laid on her stomach, arms crossed over the pillow she used the night before, with her head resting atop on them. “Morning.” She mumbled tiredly. She wasn’t sure what would come of this, if it was just a drunken hookup or if it meant something more. In her mind it felt like so much more, but she couldn’t be sure. When she knew Calum before, she knew he wasn’t the relationship type, but he could have changed in the two years they weren’t friends. She hadn’t a clue.

“Sleep well?” His fingertip lightly trailed up and down her spine and his lips left light kisses on her bare back. At that point she knew it wasn’t just a drunken hook up, there was way more to it. There were feelings, memories, there was a history there. When Lena hummed quietly, Calum smiled. She was cute when she was tired, Calum thought, but he couldn’t spend all morning admiring her sleepy state. It was when her stomach grumbled that he was forcing himself out of bed. “Want breakfast?”

Lena opened one eye and watched Calum pull a pair of boxers up his legs and nothing else. Calum handed her her underwear from the night before and one of his shirts that was a little bit too big on him, knowing it would fit her like a dress. “Breakfast sounds nice.” Lena spoke as she got up to get dressed.

“Gonna get it started. There’s a toothbrush in the drawer in the bathroom you can use. Freshen up, yeah?” Calum sent her a soft smile before shuffling to the kitchen to feed Duke and start on their breakfast. If Calum’s memory served him well, he knew that Lena loved chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream on top and he prayed he had all of the right ingredients.

Lena relieved herself, washed her hands, brushed her teeth, and cleaned up the makeup that was smeared under her eyes before joining Calum in the kitchen. She stole a pair of socks from him and he grinned at the sight of her with bedhead in nothing but his t-shirt and fuzzy socks Mali had left at his apartment years ago.

“All good?”

“Fantastic,” Lena wrapped her arms around Calum from behind and rested her head on his back. She wasn’t sure if it was overstepping boundaries, but after last night, what boundaries were really left? They already did the most intimate thing they could have done. Calum shivered at the coldness of Lena’s hands from just washing them, but loved the way her hands felt on him.

He had watched her and Luke over the years holding each other and kissing each other and he was jealous, thinking it was just because he wanted a girlfriend or because of the small crush he had on her, but he didn’t realize how deep his feelings ran for her until now. Until he was in the position Luke was once in. The one Luke fucked up beyond belief. The one Calum would never dare fuck up.

Lena placed a light kiss on Calum’s bareback before pulling away. “Need help with anything?”

“Nope. You just sit your pretty ass down.” Calum motioned to the table in the corner of the small kitchen and Lena laughed, but did as she was told. Lena sat there contently, watching Calum cook and listening to him hum along to whatever song was stuck in his head. He was effortlessly beautiful, she thought. She couldn’t believe she didn’t see it sooner. “Breakfast,” Calum set her plate in front of her, knocking her out of her daydream of him and sat down next to her. “Is served.”

“Chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream? This is my favorite!” Lena’s face lit up and she grinned happily. Calum could have stared at her smile all fucking day if he could have.

“I know.” Calum laughed. He watched her happily drench her pancakes in syrup and scrunched his nose up at house much sweetness was on one plate. He chose to keep his pancakes dry, dipping them in the puddle he created on the side of his plate. “I remembered.”

“Really? You did?” Lena couldn’t help but smile, surprised that Calum had remembered such a small detail about her. She adored him for that.

“Course I did. Never forgot.” Calum winked.

They ate in a peaceful silence and it wasn’t until they were done doing the dishes and sitting on the couch together did last night come up. Both of them were dreading the conversation, not knowing what the other was thinking or going to say about it, but they knew it needed to be said.

“Last night wasn’t just sex to me, Lena.” Calum finally spoke. He watched Lena pet Duke, who had found home on her lap, and nervously licked his lips. He didn’t want to get rejected, but he wanted to be honest and wanted her to know his feelings. He didn’t want to be used. He was finally being honest about his feelings for her. “And if it was for you then-”

“It wasn’t,” Lena quickly shut him up. “It wasn’t, Calum. But it’s just…”

“Luke.” Calum answered for her. His lips were pursed and eyebrows were drawn together in thought. Why did Luke matter so much? They had broken up two years ago and he was sure Luke had moved on. For Christ’s sake, Luke was the one who broke up with her. “Why does he matter so much?”

“He’s your best friend, Calum!” Lena laughed incredulously. “And he’s my ex-boyfriend. We loved each other once. He wouldn’t be okay with this.”

“Who cares?” Calum’s voice wasn't a whisper anymore. He wasn’t scared to disturb the peaceful bubble they were in anymore. He wanted her and he didn’t give a fuck about if Luke would or wouldn’t be okay with it. “Luke hasn’t called me back in months, Lena! And he broke your heart. You shouldn’t care about him anymore.”

“He’s the first guy I ever loved, Calum. I’ll always care about him. I don’t love him anymore, but he’ll always hold a special place in my heart and I just-” Lena shook her head. “He wouldn’t be okay with this. What happens if he finds out?”

“He doesn’t live here. Hasn’t visited since he moved away.” Calum reminded her. “Ash and Michael are still here, but he’s not, and they won’t tell him. I want you, Lena. I always have wanted you and I don’t think I’m ever gonna stop wantin’ you.” Their hands were laced together again and it calmed Lena down, soothed her, and it felt right. “I know you don’t think this is a good idea, know you’re worryin’ about Luke, but just give it a chance, will you?”

More than anything, especially after last night, Lena wanted to. She wanted to give it and give Calum a chance, but she felt like, in some way, she was betraying Luke. Why? She didn’t know. He was the one who betrayed her; broke her heart into a million pieces, and Calum; moved away and forgot about him. So why the fuck was she so worried about what he would think?

She would never admit it, but even while she was with Luke, she always felt a connection with Calum. She tried to tell herself it was just how well they got along, how much they had in common, how nice he was to her, but it was more than that. It always was more than that. It was lingering touches; hugs that were a little bit too long, high fives that turned into hand holding for a few seconds, his arm around her shoulder in pictures. It was always something.

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel it, too. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel it even when you and Luke were together and you and I were just friends. There’s always been something there that we just haven’t been able to get to.”

Calum was right and Lena knew it. There was no way she could tell him he was wrong, because she knew damn well that if it weren’t for Luke there would have been at least something between her and Calum, so she wasn’t surprised when she found herself nodding her head.

“Okay,” Lena finally breathed out. “I’ll give it a chance.”

Instead of fighting it like she was planning to do, like she always did before, Lena finally gave in.

✧✧✧

“You’ll never believe who I ran into on Saturday,” Calum slid into the booth next to Michael and across from Ashton, not bothering with so much as a hello. Ashton and Michael looked at him expectantly, not bothering to guess. “Lena.”

“Lena?” Ashton repeated. “Lena Clements?”

Calum nodded his head, trying not to smile at the thought of Saturday night and how good she felt and tasted. How after all the years of secretly crushing, and unknowingly falling in love with her, it finally happened. He finally could feel something for her without feeling guilty about it. Without having to worry about Luke finding out.

“And? What happened? How is she?” Michael pressed. He and Ashton were close with her as well, not as close as friends as Calum, but close nonetheless.

“She’s good.” Calum smiled. His internal between on whether or not to tell the guys about what happened with her was the only thing he could think about. He was scared of how they would react to the news, he knew they would say the same thing as Lena; something about Luke and his feelings, and he didn’t want to hear it. But he couldn’t keep it in any longer. He had to tell someone. “We met up that night and got a drink.”

“And?” Ashton cocked an eyebrow. “How did that go?”

“It, uh, it went well.” Calum cleared his throat and instantly broke eye contact with Ashton, who knew him better than anybody, and turned his attention to the menu in front of him even though he already knew exactly what he was going to get.

“Well?” Michael spoke slowly. “What does well mean?”

“We had a few drinks and caught up and, well, we-“

“You slept with her,” Ashton stayed blandly and Michael nearly spit out his water. It was scary how well Ashton knew Calum and could nearly read his thoughts. Just by the look on Calum’s face and the way he was nervously stumbling over his words, Ashton knew something was up.

“What?” Michael squealed.

“Please tell me you didn’t.” Ashton shook his head. Ashton always knew about Calum’s crush on Lena even without Calum telling him. Calum didn’t have to tell him, in Ashton’s eyes, it was obvious. When Calum didn’t say anything, Ashton groaned. “Calum, Luke is your best friend and Lena is his ex-girlfriend! You can’t do that.”

“Luke hasn’t spoken to any of us in months, Ash. I barely consider him a friend anymore let alone my best friend. And so what? They broke up years ago! And he broke up with her, he shouldn’t care about what or who she doing.”

“He’ll care if it’s with somebody that he once considered his brother, Calum.” Ashton sighed heavily. Ashton never thought that Calum would actually make good on his feelings towards Lena. He hoped he would just hide them away like he had done before. “That can’t ever happen again and Luke can’t ever know.”

“We’re going on a date tomorrow night.” Calum blurted out. He meant to keep that part a secret, not wanting anybody to know about them actually trying to be together until they knew it would work out. “She likes me too, Ash. She wants to be with me. Why am I not allowed to be happy?”

“You are allowed, Cal.” Michael assured him.

“Just not with her.” Ashton butted in, reminding him again that Lena was his best friends ex and that she was off limits, they agreed upon that when Luke and Lena broke up. Calum promised Luke he had no interest in her, that they were just friends, and Calum felt bad about lying.

He broke a promise that he hadn’t meant to keep, but he’ll be damned if Luke tried to stop him.

✧✧✧

Taglist: @wrappedaroundcal @cosmocalum @roselukes @kinglyhood @cantbehandled-ever @hereforlukescruff @astroashtonio @monsteramongmikey @5secsofsomewhere@gosh-im-short @emma070900 @youmaycallmemrshemmings@grittyisathot @cakesunflower @alotof1dlove @calumsmermaid @gorgeouslygrace @asht0ns-world @cantbehandled-ever @singt0mecalum @lockthisheartinchains @cheyenne-in-wonderland @youmaycallmemrshemmings @gosh-im-short @babyurart

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elven-oracle · 5 years

Text

the siren, act ii: tranquility |p.p. / part 14|

[part one] [part two] [part three] [part four] [part five] [part six] [part seven] [part nine] [part ten] [part eleven] [part twelve] [part thirteen]

‘the siren’ trilogy masterlist

moodboard credit goes to @jupiterparker

to see other amazing moodboards:

by @starksparker click here

by @harryrholland click here

to listen to the playlist inspired by this series go here

AN: This part of “Tranquility” is my entry for @tominhoodies ‘s writing challenge, under the prompt “You took everything from me.”

SUMMARY: A month after adapting to human life and being accepted into Midtown School of Science and Technology, Lena “the Siren” Potts starts attending school with Peter Parker. As love and family start to pour into her life, a mysterious force lurks in the background, threatening the wellbeing of both herself and all the people she loves…

PAIRING: Peter Parker x Siren!OC

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

“To our very own, Lena Potts, my lovely niece, for taking out a threat of the ocean in the most threatening, yet still diplomatic way possible. Cheers.”

By the confusion on her face, Peter could tell that Lena had never taken part in a toast, before. Glasses of gold liquid, some champagne, some sparkling cider, clinked together only to her delight. The smile on her face was bright enough to light the room. At first, he was disappointed that he couldn’t sit next to her, but being able to see the happiness gleam across her face was a much better gift.

Something about her had been different when she pranced off of the jet. She flung herself into his arms, wrapping onto him like a koala after he spun her around excitedly. The way she spoke, how she explained the way she demanded justice, it was like the weight in her voice had lifted. The burden of death no longer dragged her down in the arduous way that it used to. It drifted, it was still riddled amongst her elated words, but a majority of it had dissolved into the agreement that she had made with her former species.

It had been a dinner party that Mr. Stark planned, filled with the type of elegance that he was unused to. To his left was Colonel Rhodes, his laughter bouncing off the walls of the room. To his right was Happy, who, for once in his life, looked happy to be where he was. On one end of the table sat his Aunt, who had opted for a touch of makeup for the occasion, and the other end sat one of Lena’s doctors, Peter thought it was her physical therapist but he wasn’t sure. Across from him was Lena with Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark on either side of her. It was the first time she had worn that dress; a light, airy article that cut straight across her chest and had small straps keeping it on her shoulders. Hair wavy from her braids, she reminded Peter of classic depictions of Calypso. She flashed her eyes at him.

Some of my sisters spoke of Calypso. She was one of us until she decided to live the rest of her life on land.

Amongst the boisterous conversation, Peter half frowned-half smiled in confusion. What?

She bit the bottom of her lip, a habit she had picked up on when Peter made her nervous. He could feel the way her heart fluttered and knew that there was heat rising into her ears, followed by that lip bite, and her eyes bouncing all over the place. The interaction and sequence happened more than often, and Peter had memorized every detail.

They often said that I must be one of her direct descendants because our line of Seiren has a history of craving land. I will never know, but it is always interesting.

Peter had always thought of Calypso as a myth, but now that Lena mentioned that she was real, it made sense for her to be a seiren. The woman supposedly distracted men, the most well known being Odysseus, from their goals and aspirations. While Calypso was unconventional, she definitely still had her habits.

Odysseus was her Peirasmos.

His audible shock was masked by the adults laughing at something else entirely around them. He and Lena had escaped into their little world like they always seemed to do, communicating only with the thoughts in their heads. It was nice to be able to do that whenever they liked. It was like always going into a situation with someone on his team. And that’s what they were, weren’t they?

A team.

They brought the party to a parlor just outside the dining room, where the adults continued to laugh and sip champagne, while Lena and Peter found themselves drifting to the couch to politely listen. He felt a figure standing over him and found Mr. Stark holding two glasses with the golden liquid Peter had been seeing everyone drink all night. He leaned over between them and set the glasses down in their hands.

“You each can have two glasses, go ahead and refill from the bottle on the dining table that I left behind,” with a devilish wink, Mr. Stark went to find his place amongst the adults.

After his two glasses, and some quiet conversation with Lena, Peter decided that he liked champagne. Specifically, he liked the way that it bubbled and the warm feeling that it had left in his stomach once he had finished. The room was sparkling a little bit more than when he hadn’t had the bubbly alcohol. He wouldn’t say he was drunk; that would have been a stretch. He had definitely never had a sip of alcohol in his life, though, and it was proving itself to the drowsy feeling both he and Lena had.

At some point, her head had fallen into his lap, and she had begun to trace the bones in his hands with the tip of her finger, gliding it across his skin, chills running up his spine every so often. He watched as she concentrated, noting the way that her eyelashes flicked down and up as she blinked. They were blonde and feathery and practically invisible. Peter could only see them when he was especially close to her. He decided that he truly loved being especially close to her.

“It is far too loud in here,” Lena slowly commented and yawned. “Can we go to my room?”

Peter looked around. Aunt May was still in conversation with Ms. Potts, and Mr. Stark was about to crash in and probably make a mediocrely funny joke to them. While they were distracted, it was prime time to make their escape. Giggling, they found themselves in the elevator, lips not only locked, but lips finding their way to necks, lips tracing jawlines. Her face buried into his chest and laughed, almost drowning in the sea of his biceps. Peter laughed to himself. Lena would never be able to drown in anything.

“I can drown in my love for you!” she tapped his nose as she said the words.

Skidding down the hallway towards the direction of her room, Peter playfully chased after her, only catching up when both of them had tumbled through the door, his arms folding themselves around her tiny body. They became an entanglement of limbs as they fell onto the twin bed, laughter only subsiding by the silence of their kiss falling back into place. He liked the way that her hand was resting on his chest, and he liked the way that his hand had fallen just inside of her left thigh.

He would have liked to describe where the fun went from there, but Peter Parker was no kiss and tell.

…

It wasn’t the first time that her screaming had woken him.

What was abnormal for Lena was the thrashing and yelling that followed. The way he felt her fist came down onto his chest as he struggled to reopen his eyes and assist her. The blow came with an unnatural amount of strength that was hopefully unintentional.

“Wake up!” were the first words he could say before snaking his arms around her waist and burying his face into the crook of her neck, “L, wake up! You’re dreaming!”

He could feel her terror, which was almost the worst part. Along with their open book of emotions came empathy that had almost brought Peter to tears. Lena in this current state of not fully asleep but not fully awake was suspended in unrelenting terror. Her demonous sisters had sent her the worst nightmare yet as a punishment for her threat and their agreement. There was nothing either of them could do about it. The seiren had a mental tie to her that Peter wished he could cut with the world’s largest pair of scissors.

“YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME,” Lena bellowed. Her hands were balled into fists, and Peter could feel the sweat from her bare shoulder start to bead and transfer onto his bare chest.

He cooed at her, soothingly shushed her, ran his fingers through her hair, but this dream had been different. If he closed his eyes for long enough, he could barely make out the images of the creatures clawing at every part of her body, tearing her apart and doing the same to the people in her life that she loved. Peter, Tony, Pepper, Happy, MJ, Ned, they all were drowning or having their throats torn out, or being dragged down to the bottom of the Atlantic.

Sob after sob, Peter was starting to see that he wasn’t going to be able to calm her down easily.

Kissing her forehead, he whispered that he would be back as he pulled on his pants and shirt from the night before. If he knew his mentor correctly, he knew just where he would be able to find him.

There was the harsh sound of metal colliding with metal when Peter entered the shop, and the figure of Tony Stark sweating and working was just across from him, and the source of the sound. It was almost 5 AM, and this was where Mr. Stark had spent his night-going-on-morning. He popped off the protective goggles and looked at the half-awake Peter, the look on his face as if he wasn’t believing what he was seeing.

“I-I know I just woke up like 20 minutes ago. Lena just had...a really bad nightmare. Can you...drive us somewhere?” he asked, hoping the man would somewhat understand.

Mr. Stark’s left hand dragged across his shiny, sweat-dripping face, and much to Peter’s surprise he said, “Sure. Where to?”

…

By the time that Peter had successfully gotten Lena’s body to the car, she had stopped crying and resorted to a violent sort of shaking, which he wasn’t sure if that was an improvement or not. Still, he held her, and spoke to her softly, and traced circles on her shoulder. He knew how deeply sad and horrified she was, he could feel it on each one of his bones. Their connection had given him a special empathy reserved just for her, and it was painful to feel her in so much agony.

Approximately 45 minutes later, Mr. Stark pulled into the parking lot for their destination and put the car in park. Peter was the only one to move, going to the other side of the car to pull Lena from the seat and carry her to where Peter knew she would find healing. She had to.

It only took a couple of minutes to reach the edge, and he set her down in the sand, hoping that she would recognize the texture and open her eyes. She did, and when her eyes flittered open, she was greeted with the mix of a pink and orange sunrise over the Atlantic ocean.

Why did you take me here? She asked.

He was still standing. Instead of saying anything (partially because he didn’t know the whole answer himself), he pulled her to her feet and walked with her to where the waves were crashing into the shore, but just as their bare toes almost touched the sea foam-

No.

He insisted, “One step. I won’t let you fall.”

When she looked at him, her eyes were swollen and bloodshot, and red marks showed where she had violently torn her hands across her face to yank the tears away. Biting her lip again, nervously, she stepped forward into the salty water, that curled around her toes as they started to morph into what would add up to be a tail. Without fail, she slipped, Peter holding his arms out to catch her from behind.

They sat in the shallow water for a good while, the waves encircling them, her tail stretched out farther than Peter’s legs. He could feel the rate of her heart declining as she stared out into the open water, inhaling the fresh, crisp, spring air. To Peter, it was a mystery as to how he knew this would be the remedy to her troublesome dream, but he could only guess that was all a part of their special connection.

She shifted forward, tearing off the white dress from the dinner party and plunging into the sea, allowing herself to fully submerge. He didn’t worry, he just waited for her to resurface, knowing that she needed to feel the Atlantic ocean wash over her to fully regain the strength that her former family had taken away from her only because they could. It was them trying to hold power over her, when in all actuality, Lena was the one with real power.

Peter wanted to show her that there was strength in existing as a human being. While she had the special abilities that set her aside from the typical human, what made her special was not only the fact that she was a seiren, but also that she was human.

He watched as she broke into the surface, her face masked behind her hands. When they slid downward, Peter saw the exhaustion that had found its way onto her features.

Thank you.

He nodded.

Peter returned to his apartment that night, knowing that Lena would likely not find her way back to sleep. When he shut his eyes, falling asleep in his own bed, he found that she had implanted a dream for him, cultivated by her, where they sat on that beach forever, watching as the waves rolled in.

M A S T E R L IS T

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 5 years

Text

The Peril of Hope in the Darkness (a post 5x03 ficlet)

(a continuation of the final scene in Lena’s apartment)

“Can I ask you something?” Kara asks hesitantly as Lena drifts towards the couch, already leafing through the topmost journal. Her gaze only lifts long enough to shoot Kara a fleeting smile.

“I thought we were past boundaries.”

The tease rasps with wry mirth from lips curled in a smirk, and Kara chuffs a sheepish laugh at the sight of it. “I didn’t want to presume you felt the same way.”

Lena’s response is a fluttering eye roll that turns her gaze back to the pages splayed open in her lap.

Trying not to read too much into the silence, Kara takes it as an invitation to venture closer. She moves to take a seat next to Lena, only to freeze at the sharp stab of Lena’s “ah-ah-ah!” of warning.

“What—?”

“I know what kinds of disasters that suit has been through, Supergirl. I’d rather not risk a stain on my very expensive furniture.” It’s still softened by the warmth of teasing smile, but Kara’s own grin weakens slightly as she rises away from the pristine white fabric of the sofa cushion. She casts a glance about for a suitable alternative, but everything in the apartment looks too clean, too sharp, too bright.

She studies the tops of her boots to hide the growing heat of her embarrassment, and then blinks at the smooth, easy to clean floor under her soles. Gathering her cape with a sweep of her arm, Kara settles cross-legged on the bare ground, and her informal, decidedly unhero-like seat draws a soft huff of mirth from Lena’s throat.

“I know you said these journals would help you take the edge off of Lex’s memory, but…” Kara trails off when Lena’s shoulders tighten, her brief amusement falling away. But she gathers her courage and her breath to push on. Too late to back out now.

“I remember what the journals in his cell contained, and they weren’t good. You said reading them was awful. Why would reading them now be any different?”

For a long moment, Lena doesn’t respond beyond a fleeting glance. Kara waits— she watches the wheels turn, as Lena decides how much to share and how to say it. A few weeks earlier, she imagines Lena would be able to respond in a heartbeat, but after the Pulitzer ceremony, and the hurt she’d glimpsed in Lena’s eyes, Kara accepts the reticence gratefully.

Better reservation than exclusion. Better hesitation than absence.

Finally, Lena surrenders her truth with a quiet sigh.

“These journals are from Lex’s prime,” she says softly. “These are the years after our father died, after he left the manor, and took the lead at LuthorCorp, but before Super…” Lena catches herself, her gaze flashing to Kara. She shrugs, as though to surrender to her new reality. “Before your cousin came into the picture. Those few years were the best I had with him.”

Kara’s heart aches for Lena. “How do you mean?”

“I wasn’t tugging on his coattails anymore. Going away to school helped me find my own feet, and by the time I went home again, I’d learned so much without him… I had my own knowledge, my own understanding of how the world worked. And it was then that he started to see me as something more than his baby sister. We were colleagues… peers. Maybe— maybe even something close to friends.”

Lena’s shoulders lift, her eyes rolling at her own sentimentality. “If he ever wrote a nice word about me, I guess I’d hoped to find it in these.”

A heavy lump rises in Kara’s throat. She closes her eyes, and wills herself to not remember the nights she’s spent with the specter of her mother, willing the hologram to be something more than it is. But all it does is make her heart ache all the more at Lena’s desperate reach for something— anything— of her brother to hold onto.

“When my parents sent me to Earth,” she begins softly, resting her chin on one knee, “my mother sent a repository with me. A data crystal filled with all the knowledge and memories she could transfer to it in the time she had. When it’s activated, it generates an avatar of my mother. It looks like her, it sounds like her, but… it isn’t her. It could never answer the questions I truly needed to ask, and it couldn’t replicate the feel of her arms around me or her hand stroking my hair. It’s just an echo.”

Lifting her head from her knee, Kara meets Lena’s gaze with heavy features.

“Sometimes an echo doesn’t do anything but hurt more.”

Lena’s eyes swivels back to the books in her hands. After a moment, she closes the open volume, but keeps her finger between the pages to mark her place.

“I suppose it must be a relief to have the real thing again, after all this time.” Her voice is light but jolts into shock and confusion a moment later, as additional details click into place, and her eyes widen with realization.

“Kara! Your mother is alive! What are you still doing here, when you could be on Argo with her?”

Kara shrugs, uncertain she can fully articulate why she’s made the choice she has. “I did go, for a few weeks. In that time I realized… as much as I’ve missed her— as much as I imagined what I’d say to her if I ever did have one more chance to speak with her… I don’t know her anymore. And taking the time to try and reconnect would take me away from the people I do know. The people I love. In the end, it wasn’t a sacrifice I was willing to make.”

Lena stares at her, stunned. Kara doesn’t know how to explain that despite all her grief of having lost her entire planet, her history, her friends and family and everyone she’s ever met, Earth is her home. Her friends are her family.

Lena is her family.

Something in Lena’s gaze shifts in the ensuing silence. Kara can’t discern what it is, but a shadow of guilt chases on its heels, averting her gaze from Kara’s. “Lena?”

“Nevermind.”

Troubled eyes close for a long moment, and when they re-open, they’re dull with exhaustion. Kara hesitates, then leans forward to rest her hand on the toe of Lena’s spiked boot. When Lena finally looks at her again, Kara offers a quiet smile.

“You should get some sleep.”

Lena huffs. “I’d rather not,” she says, rising to step away from Kara’s touch. “Besides, I have work to do—”

“The great Lena Luthor will always have work to do,” Kara butts in gently, also climbing to her feet. “So does Supergirl. But that doesn’t mean we don’t get to rest. We can’t help anyone if we burn out, can we?”

Green eyes narrow dangerously. “Luthors don’t burn.”

Kara almost recoils, but when she blinks the dark shadows of Lena’s features vanish, swept away by a smile that reveals nothing but teeth.

With a swallow, Kara plasters her own smile back on. “I’m sure I could take your mind off of things until you fall asleep,” she offers playfully.

But instead of pulling her friend back to the surface, Lena seems to sink deeper into herself. She hugs the journals to her chest.

“Actually,” she says, voice soft, “I think I’d rather be alone.”

Blinking back the sudden burn behind her eyes, Kara gives a jerky nod. “Okay, sure. I’ll just…” She jabs a thumb over her shoulder towards the balcony. “I’m gonna go—”

“Kara.”

Sharp fingers catch her by the wrist. When she looks back, Lena’s grip softens, withdrawing with a brush of her thumb that feels like a caress.

“Thank you. For the journals.”

Kara nods, swallowing.

“Of course. I hope they help.” She resumes her exit towards the sliding door, and brightens with an idea. “Breakfast tomorrow? I’ll bring more of those awesome scones—”

“No.”

For a split second that yawns for eons, Kara’s heart drops.

“I mean, breakfast would be lovely,” Lena clarifies, tucking long hair behind her ear. “But you don’t need to bring scones.”

Relief floods Kara’s chest, nearly lifting her from the ground. “Oh. Gotcha. I’ll be there. Or here. Anywhere. Just text me when and where, and I’ll--”

“Fly there on a bus?”

The levity in Lena’s tone hollows, and her smile turns sad. Guilt settles heavily on Kara’s shoulders, as her earliest lie echoes on the lips of her best friend.

Before she can say anything, Lena scrunches her nose to soften the blow.

“Can’t wait.”

Kara finally lifts off, leaving Lena to her sleepless night. As she soars high into the sky, she tries to let the peace of night still the disquiet in her heart.

#supercorp #reveal angst #canon compliant #believe it or not #just imagine it's just generalized mixed feelings over kara's betrayal #and not anything sinister on lena's part #lex's journals #guess what: kara and lena have way more commonalities than any admits #would sure be nice if they could bond over them sometime

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