#she's back in the tower and lena is right there being all concerned and supportive bc it didn't work again

[blackbirdblackbird]

Maybe it’s time for Kara to try this gauntlet instead of Supergirl.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Phantom Zone AU where Lena uses an exosuit and a transmat portal to go to the PZ and find Kara. Her tech gets her pretty close to Kara, actually, but between the short search and the inevitable fight with some wraiths/resentful PZ residents, they're there for what feels like maaaaybe a few days. Which are long enough, but even so, by the time they tumble back through the portal back to Earth, they discover that time in the PZ passes differently than on Earth.

Because it's been several years since Lena left.

Maybe the Tower isn't even the Superfriends' base of operations anymore. Maybe they step through the portal into a residence housing a bunch of college kids. Maybe Lex found the Tower and destroyed it, having turned the public against them and other vigilantes/aliens.

Either way, nothing is the same.

While Lex had announced his fear and concern about Lena and Kara's absences to the public, he had privately claimed responsibility for Lena's disappearance, taunting them that he had killed her (maybe Lena had left a bit of mess behind her when she left, which had supported his claims-- along with the fact that Lena couldn't possible be stupid enough to go into the PZ alone so it doesn't even occur to them that she would).

So they believe Lena dead, and with their best chance of getting Kara back 6ft under, they believed Kara lost for good.

Which means Kara finds her sister barely holding it together, broken up with Kelly and her plans for a family up in flames.

J'onn isn't faring much better, for having lost yet another daughter and been unable to help the one girl he has left.

Nia and Brainy have broken up, but are faring better than J'onn and Alex.

Andrea has joined the Superfriends as Acrata in a bid to exact revenge on Lex for killing Lena. She's the only one whose anguish is focused on Lena instead of Kara. (Most of the others simply count Lena as a victim of Kara being gone, the first of so many that they've become numb to it all.)

All of this leads to Kara and Lena having to work together to put it all right. Kara focuses on helping the aliens and others dispossessed by the smiling stranglehold Lex has on the city, while also trying to salvage what's left of her sister.

Lena focuses on Lex directly, as she's the only one who stands a chance in squaring off with him directly, both physically and intellectually. And she's wildly successful, considering that Lex has no idea she's back and blames Acrata for his private journals going missing and his manipulative treatment of Lena while growing up making a splash on the front page news.

Lena upgrades her exosuit to exceed Lex's, so when she and Kara finally reveal themselves, they're well matched. It's still a tough battle, but Lex's lack of concern for collateral damage not only puts Lena and Kara at a disadvantage as they try to mitigate his recklessness, but also cements his villainy in the public's eye, as both news crews and cellphones capture footage of his rampage.

When he's defeated-- with Lena walking away after deciding not to kill, only to have Kara incinerate him with her heat vision when Lex when he tries to shoot Lena in the back-- they're the two who are left to pick up the pieces.

Lena takes over at LuthorCorp again (which soon becomes L-Corp, as it should be), and Kara works with the disenfranchised to rebuild and accommodate alien/disabled needs. It takes years, but they succeed in returning National City to its rightful place as a beacon of hope and acceptance in the world.

This time, when the next statue of Supergirl is erected, Lena is cast in bronze right beside her.

[kendrene]

Burning the midnight oil is something Lena Luthor is good at.

From all the way back in college, when she’d spend entire nights awake studying for her next exam, to 3am business calls with associates scattered to the four corners of the world — in different timezones, one ocean and many land masses away.

She’s good at it, the art of staying awake, of functioning beyond reasonable limits. Helping to save the world more times than she can comfortably fit on the fingers of one hand gave her plenty of practice. 

It’s different this time around. With her heart involved the stakes feel higher, somehow.

Lena knows that, logically, she should want to bring Kara back for the world. Humanity needs hope, and Kara is the paragon of it. She’s this city’s protector. 

But the truth is, Lena’s motives are entirely selfish. She wants Kara back for herself, so they can have a shot at mending what they broke. They’d started to, by working together against Leviathan and Lex, and it’d be so unfair if they never got to see their efforts through. 

The threads of their lives truncated before they could form a tapestry together. Because, surely, if they fail to bring Kara back, Lena will die too. 

A planet can’t host life without a star giving it light.

That’s why she’s scrambling for solutions in her private lab instead of commiserating at the Tower with the others. She can’t bear to be around them now; all of them have somebody they can lean into for support. Lena has no one. 

Frankly, despite Alex’s reassurances, she’s not even sure she’s wanted there — not when it was Lex who put Kara in the Phantom Zone in the first place. 

Maybe she’s hiding, maybe this is her way of coping. But, three-quarters-empty bottle of scotch aside, at least she’s being productive. 

The stripped-down Lexosuit she’s been working on for the last — god, how many hours (days?) has it been? — tells another story. 

It will let her survive in space, but the outer layers won’t survive warping to the Phantom Zone. Lena ran them through a teleporter she scraped together from fumes and a prayer and they simply melted. Over and over and over. Which will get her killed before she has a chance to find Kara — and that helps exactly nobody.

Her eyes flick to the picture frame she smashed months before, to the one photo she kept of her and Kara. To the still visible sign of the tear she taped together after ripping the picture apart. 

Lena doesn’t linger. She’ll cry if she does, and then she’ll never stop.

“Hey, Luthor.” 

The door opened so quietly, or Lena was so lost in her own thoughts she didn’t hear it, but Alex’s voice — while soft — startles her into dropping the vambrace she’s been tinkering with for the past hour. 

“Sorry.” Alex approaches, wary. “I didn’t mean to spook you. I just came to see how you—” 

“Alex I can’t.” Lena doesn’t let her finish. There’s concern written all over Alex’s face, and she can’t — she — “I can’t do this.” Lena gestures to the empty space between them, and the bag of takeout Alex brought. Damn her, but it smells amazing. “Whatever this is.”

“Taking care of each other, you mean?” Setting the food down, Alex shoots her the kind of look that’s usually reserved for Kara. “The way she would want?”

“Fuck you.” As soon as the words burst out of her the tears do too, and Lena flings herself into Alex’s chest so hard she knocks her back a step. “You can’t come here and act like this after— Fuck you.” 

“I’m sorry.” Alex squeezes her hard enough to bruise, but right now Lena doesn’t mind. She needs this. Needs a moment to unravel. “For keeping up the lie, for not trusting you. For…” They’re both crying now, and although Alex is a touch more composed about it, at least it levels the playing field. “I’m sorry about so many things, I don’t know where to begin. But if it helps, I did what you suggested.” She pulls back, and her tear-streaked cheek heat up. “Told Kelly about Kara being...y’know.”

“It’s a start.” Lena wipes the edge of a sleeve across her face, knowing it’s disgusting but not caring. “What did she say?” 

Alex burns a deeper shade of red.

“She’d figured it out already. Was waiting on me to be ready to talk about it.”

The revelation leaves her ego a bit bruised, but at least nobody else got hurt the way she has. 

“So, what now?” 

She is so dog-tired, and the food smells so good. Lena doesn’t remember the last time she stopped to eat. Only the taste of scotch, searing her throat on the way down. 

“Now we eat some takeout.” Alex reaches into the bag, pulling a few containers out. “We get drunk,” she produces a full bottle of whiskey from a second bag Lena failed to notice, “then I hold your hair out of the way while you puke your guts out.”

“And then?” Lena isn’t ashamed to admit she starts stuffing her face before she hears Alex’s reply.

“Then we go get our Kara back. What else?” 

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Another list! Of stuff I liked about Supergirl ep. 6x03, “Phantom Menaces”! AKA:

Spoilers!

WOW HEY WOW I LOVED THIS EPISODE.

BECAUSE EVERYONE IS HAVING FEELINGS.

(This is gonna be all over the place I can tell, apologies in advance for poor organization)

Okay, so! Right off the bat (‘ha ha’ but like, in a sad way) we learn that poor Silas has been Phantom’d. :C

We then get even MORE Phantom action back in the actual Phantom Zone--Kara’s plan to literally grab a ride doesn’t go over so well WHICH LEADS TO!

Kara making a Phantom Zone Friend! Yay! :D  

Pretty much immediately on board with Nixly’s (I refuse to try and spell out her full name) chaotic energy. Brilliant. Amazing. 10/10, hope she’s not secretly evil.

Kara’s physical vulnerability bringin’ in those “Human for a Day” vibes, yes, good, yes.

Then we’re BACK AT THE TOWER and things aren’t looking great for Silas! J’onn is blocking out his emotions! Brainy is neck deep in his! 

AND SPEAKING OF FEELINGS.

ALEX.

WITH THE CRYSTAL.

OOOOooOOooOOH NooOOOOOOOOOO

Side note: Love that Kara’s last will and testament is like, ‘Four for you, Eliza and Alex Danvers!’

‘Aaaaaand none for Jeremiah, okay bye.’

Puttin’ a pin in the Luthor stuff. We’ll get to it.

Back to the Tower! Alright, first and foremost, probably a silly thing but I’m glad the Super Friends are just...dressed casually.

I was concerned at the outset of this season that we’d see them all in their Super Suits™ most of the time because everyone’s a vigilante now, but fortunately that is not the case!

Appreciate that the Phantoms are actually a particular type of alien. As far as I know, ‘Zulian Maletarians’ are original to the show--no reference to preexisting DC stuff.

Something I noticed upon a re-watch--my suspension of disbelief allows for the physical phantom transformation...but they also all sprout matching dark robes???

Sure, Jan. 

Anyways. Then WEAPONS GRADE ANGST, as Alex has like, combo PTSD/guilt trip reaction to Phantom’d Silas. 

Just like. The frozen, helpless look? 

NOW I’M HAVING FEELINGS, HOW DARE.

And the hits keep comin’, cause we’ve got a balcony talk between J’onn and Alex but it’s tense and sad and gosh I love it.

Back in Kara’s Phantom Zone Adventure, love her Wizard of Oz-esque gathering of companions on her way to see the Wizard find an escape.

This week it felt like there was a better handle on the close-ups? Like, they were pretty apparent in 6x02. Here, they’re a little less obvious. (Or maybe I’m just getting used to them IDK. XD)

Az-Rel is a deep Detective Comics Comics cut--a Kryptonian prisoner in the Phantom Zone who has pyrokinesis! 

(tHEy DoNT ReSpECT tHe cOMicS!!! Except that they do, and y’all don’t even NOTICE.) 

Glad that both Kelly and M’gann had plot stuff to do this week, instead of just offering emotional support to everyone else.

I forgot to mention it last week so I’ll just quickly mention that I like the glow-y purple lights in the Tower. Very nice touch, J’onn.

(But how is he affording this?)

(And for that matter...are Kara and Nia now the only members of the Super Friends with jobs?)

I’ll dispense with the linear approach because the back-and-forth between plotlines is getting to be a bit much, SO!

On the Kelly and M’gann note: Again, really liked that they’re not simply there to be cheerleaders for the other characters. M’gann still feels a little like she’s at the mercy of plot whims, but. Progress!

And then Kelly! I mentioned this last season--I like that they’ve built up her character such that her inclusion in like. Bad-guy fights makes sense, even though she’s maybe not as directly connected to the action as other members of the Super Friends, being more ‘team CatCo/Obsidian’ than ‘Tower’

(Spoiler-y info suggests that will change as the season progresses so we’ll see how that goes!)

I liked this Final Phantom Fight more than the one in 6x02--the direction/blocking felt a little less ‘everyone stand on your marks in a line and shoot up at the CGI stuff’. 

I mean it was still essentially that, but. Just worked a bit better here, IMO.

And Alex can quick-change now! Love that it has the red glow of Martian shapeshifting.

Oliver Queen out there somewhere in the afterlife, seething with jealousy.

(Jumping back, just think it’s funny that, presumably, emergency services got a call about the Phantoms like, ‘911, what’s your emergency?’ ‘We’ve got hostile ghosts!’)

Alright, circling back to the Luthors!

Brainy and Lena are feeling their feelings, folks.

Loved all Brainy’s stuff. Particularly, his enraged, “I hate him! I hate him!” and then his quieter, broken, “I miss her.”

Just. So good.

(But man he is...2 for 3 on busted tech. Keyboard, tablet...fortunately the TV was spared but it was close!)

And Lena had some growth! 

I’m just at the point where I’m never gonna like. Enjoy the character--too many years of fandom baggage unfortunately. But credit where it is due: NO MORE LITTLE BOXES, THANK GOODNESS.

She’s gone from Bowler Hat Guy to Elsa. Good for her.

The amount of Lex this week was about as much as I can handle anymore. Simmering in the background, antagonizing Lena...that’s where he belongs.

(But he can leave now, thanks.)

Okay so BACK TO KARA, b/c you know. I’m biased.

Her time in the Phantom Zone is a little less introspective than I expected, thus far. However! Still the good Kara content I crave.

Kara making friends and influencing others with her sheer determination and compassion? 

Almost like...her real power lies in her ability to inspire others. 

Gasp! A theme!

Also the mention of fractured memories...intriguing! 

And will no-doubt dovetail into the upcoming time-travel/flashback episodes.

I am excited.

An aside: Kara’s gonna be so distressed that she missed out on all these big emotional milestones.

“J’onn and M’gann soul-bonded? Alex and Kelly moved in together? Lena and Brainy engaged in healthy coping mechanisms???”

She’s gonna have so many Hallmark cards to buy.

*Card with a cute smiley face on it* *opens it up* ‘Congrats on not murdering your brother!’

I’m sure there’s a bunch of other great stuff I’m missing but that’s all I can remember at the moment, so!

TL;DR - SO MANY FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELINGS! From everyone! It was great.

NEXT WEEK: Phantom Friends Fight to Find a Feasible Flight from the Frigid Fathomage of the Former Fort Rozz!

[little-luthottie]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers & Kara Danvers, Alex Danvers & Lena Luthor, Querl Dox/Nia Nal, Eliza Danvers & Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers & Eliza Danvers & Kara Danvers Characters: Kara Danvers, Kara Zor-El, Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers, Nia Nal, J'onn J'onzz | Hank Henshaw, Eliza Danvers, Brainy, Querl Dox, Lori Luthor, sc oc kid Additional Tags: SuperCorp, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Kidfic, supercorp kidfic, Mild Angst, but I swear it gets fluffy, they just want to have start a family, dansen isnt meantioned but assume that its happening okay, they're in LOVE your honour, Married Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, KARA AND LENA ARE MARRIED AND HAPPY, ...mostly, they sad but then they happy again, mentions of death but nothing graphic, Promise Summary:

"Its just hearing the heartbeat of their child for the first time only for it to slowly give in and there is absolutely nothing they— she with all her superpowers could do, Kara doesn’t feel any bit of the hero she’s come to be. Not a single ounce , not when their child’s vitals were slowly deteriorating and watching as Alex and Eliza flounder around for ways to stop yet another foetus from dying. Lena’s on the medical bed doing all she can to aid in keeping their child alive , even if its just to keep her own heart rate steady."

Kara and Lena are ready to expand their family but complications keep them from it. Kara's at her limit and is so close to losing hope ...

until she finds her

and then everything changes.

_______________________

The heart rate monitors beeps are slow as if trying to tell Kara she can’t stop the inevitable. That again she’ll lose someone dear. Its only their third time and they knew going in this wouldn’t easy. But Lena was determined she could do it and Kara believed in her wife.

Its just hearing the heartbeat of their child for the first time only for it to slowly give in and there is absolutely nothing they— she with all her superpowers could do, Kara doesn’t feel any bit of the hero she’s come to be. Not a single ounce , not when their child’s vitals were slowly deteriorating and watching as Alex and Eliza flounder around for ways to stop yet another foetus from dying. Lena’s on the medical bed doing all she can to aid in keeping their child alive , even if its just to keep her own heart rate steady.

This time around they’ve opted for an artificial womb. One that could support the genes of a half human and half kryptonian baby since the others…failed to. Lena’s idea after their last try and everything seemed to be going well. In fact little Lori survived far longer than her other two siblings had— yes they’d gotten enough hope to name her and now, now it feels like that hope is slowly shattering , another crack for every painfully delayed heartbeat. Its only a matter of moments before she says goodbye to her sweet girl but Kara can’t stomach the idea of being here for another flatline. Another deafening, gut wrenching beep taunting her , ripping away a future she so desperately craves. So leaves , she flies out of there fast enough that when everyone realises she’s gone , she only barely here’s the whisper of her name from Lena’s lips.

It’s the final punch to the dam before the wall completely breaks and out gushes the tears. She’s far away and at a high enough altitude not to be seen , she doesn’t think she could handle the publics questions as to why their golden girl was spotted a sobbing mess in the sky.

In that instance her eyes , though blurred by tears , find the star she once called home. Kara finds herself go silent , her chest still rising and falling rapidly but despite the shallow breaths of all the sobs she’d just erupted , she’s completely still. As if in a weird limbo , floating in the air above the city that’s seemed to have gone silent like its paying its respects to the hero and her losses.

 She’s just there. Floating. Staring. Waiting. For what she doesn’t know. Her tears have ceased and its remains slowly drying on her cheeks it feels like there’s a sign waiting to be shown. That if she stays up here long enough she’ll find it , see it , hear it.

 And she does. The sound of loud wailing muffled by every other sound of the night which resurfaces right as the wails start. Before Kara knows it she’s following the sound , zipping through the skies , between buildings until she finds it.

 Not it, her.

 There in a dilapidated cardboard box that looks about ready to fall apart is a bundle wrapped in white cloth. For a moment the blonde just freezes in her tracks , her feet hovering mere inches from the ground as she watches the baby , who seems to be barely older than a few months scream for her missing family. The moment her boots touches the concrete of the alley the child’s crying halts.

And like before there is this moment of silence , a moment of serenity between the two. Its in this moment of what feels like sizing up that Kara notices the golden wisps of blond locks flicked in wayward strands and the most enchanting green eyes. There’s this intelligent curiosity to them , and the blonde kryptonian can’t help but compare them to similar orbs she knows so well and loves.

It becomes abundantly clear what she must do. What she will do. Kara unclips her cape from her shoulders and reaches down to swaddle the bundle who feels alarming cold. However the little girl makes no sound but stares in wonder , green eyes twinkling in the dim florescent light. Once she knows the baby is tucked snuggly in her cape she takes off into the sky ,mindful of the precious cargo.

 She lands at the tower once again and watches everyone hault at her presence. There’s a silence once again but this one doesn’t feel as comforting , this one she fears is filled with pity and sorrow. She wants to take off again, she can feel her heart rate start to pick up , especially at the confused and alarmed stares Alex and Eliza are giving her right now. She’s just about to take off when the small bundle shifts in her arms , eyes now closed as she sleeps soundly. For a minute Kara is stunned by how immediate the child had taken to her and couldn’t help but think how perfect she seemed not to mention the physical traits that made her seem as if somehow , in some twisted way the universe had given her , given them this precious gift.

 “Kara?” Lena calls , standing a few feet off right before her. She’s in the sweatpants and old college hoodie Lena loves to wear on days she can spare to sleep in.

Karas focus is immediately brought back to reality , back to the point of why she was here , why everyone seemed concerned and she can’t believe she almost forgot. Almost.

 “Look Lee just hear me out okay?” the blond says and hovers over to her wife. Lena seems exhausted and all but ready to go home but she still nods , still humours Kara anyways.

“I just- I’m sorry I left but I couldn’t take another second and I just needed a moment by myself to grieve the loss of our baby”

“Kara-“ Lena tries , but Kara’s on a role she needs to vent all of this right now or otherwise she won’t be able to explain herself properly.

“I know I left you alone in that moment and I’m sorry Lena really-“ the blonde steps forward scared Lena might leave because of it. “but I just lost it and I couldn’t understand why we keep losing them. I don’t want to keep losing them!”

 Kara stops. Knowing she’s raised her voice , can see the alarm in everyone’s eyes and the sympathy. She shuts her eyes , takes a breath and focuses on the movements of the little one in her arms. When she opens them there are those curious green staring at her and its doubled when she looks from the baby to Lena. She knows Lena finally noticed the bundle , realised what it was and is now worried.

 “Kara whose baby..” Lena trails off as if scared to finish that sentence in fear of what the answer will be.

 And no! She’s got it all wrong. Kara would never— no matter how distraught.

“No no no! Lee this- that’s what I’m trying to tell you this baby was abandoned in an alley! I heard her cries and immediately rushed over—she was just there in this tattered box. She was confused by why the people who were supposed to love her-“ Kara consciously pulls the bundle closer , “just left and here we are-struggling to just-And I just had to do the right thing and save her but I thought what if. What if this is our chance?”

Kara is now smiling down at the little girl , whose eyes never leave her and misses the way Lena reaches for her stomach and then grabs Kara’s bicep.

“Darling I understand” the brunette says earnestly , unshed tears glistening in her eyes. “we have been through unbearable pain with the last two pregnancies and I understand your pain believe me” a tear slips down Lena’s cheek and the first instinct is to wipe it away. Lena should know its not because of her body , that there’s nothing wrong with it. There’s nothing wrong with her. So she moves in to tell her but Lena just squeezes her bicep. Those green eyes so intelligent and vibrant , shines with a knowingness Kara is so familiar with. As if she had the power to read her mind , Kara wouldn’t be surprised if Lena could though she-

What was that?.

Her train of thought out the window as Lena guides the arm not supporting the bundle to her stomach and- oh.

There it is , loud and persistent as if scolding Kara for doubting it , doubting her.

“Lori?” just the name alone makes the tears fall from Kara’s eyes once again. How could she have missed that? Her daughters heartbeat. That was once so weak is at a steady rate. Their baby made it. They’re going to have a baby!

She finds Lena’s eyes , tears falling as well , the knowingness shining so bright. Kara thinks its more the pure relief of not losing another child. She pulls her wife in , hugs her as tight as is humanly possible with one arm. She feels so happy , so filled with love and hope.

And that’s when their little guest grunts , probably shocked by the sudden confined space and Kara laughs , just pure joy ripping out from her lungs as if it was held captive there for too long.

“I’m sorry little one” the blonde loosens her grip but doesn’t let’s go of Lena. She still keeps her close. Now there’s two pairs of forest green eyes staring at her and she’s surprised by how enraptured she is by both.

“Lee I , I can’t abandon her too. Please-“

“Kara I would never do that.” Lena pushes the sides of the cape aside so she has a view of the cherub face. “its not going to be easy but we can make this work. In any case we did agree on a big family” the grin that splits onto Lena’s face is enough for Kara’s heart to feel as if it just grew that much bigger. After all these years Lena could still make her so happy , feel so loved and understood.

 “Now hand her to me so I can check her vitals” Lena takes the bundle from Kara’s arms , cradles her close and steps away towards the medbay Alex and Eliza have been in this whole time eavesdropping.

“What why? Did I hurt her?” Kara immediately frowns and follows , notices now how everyone hadn’t moved since she’d flown in and now seem to have found it in themselves to move and act busy. Shameful.

“No honey but you did say you found her in an Alley and we need to see if she’s suffered any harm from it.”

 “oh” is all Kara says , and watches how Lena unwraps the bundle to reveal the baby in a soft pink onesie. She still doesn’t make any cries of protest but just watches Lena with those intelligent eyes.

And Lena’s smiling. Smiling the whole time. From checking her heart rate with the stethoscope to taking her temperature with a thermometer , Lena smiles and is so gentle with the little girl it makes her heart melt.

“So I’ve got two nieces now huh” Alex remarks , nudging her side with an elbow. Kara watches as Eliza goes to aid Lena in her tests and it makes her rock back and forth on her heels for a bit.

“Yeah” Kara grins and looks to her sister with such a wide smile her cheeks are protesting. She’s giddy , she can’t even contain it. At one point tonight she’d thought she would never have this but here they are. Two girls. One on the way and one already here. Granted they would have to go through the right adoption processes but there’s no doubt that, that baby is already theirs. How could there be when Eliza rocks the child gently in her arms while Lena stands at the computer probably waiting for test results, a hand caressing her stomach while her attention is on the blonde little girl whose seem to have everyone gravitating towards her as Nia , Kelly , J'onn and even Brainy enters the room.

“despite it being so early and you guys actually have to legally adopt her still-“

“I know Alex but-“

“Hey I’m not raining on your parade okay? I know how long you’ve been waiting for this and I have every bit of faith you’ll get custody of her” Alex grabs her sisters shoulder and squeezes it gently. Kara needs more than that though , so she pulls her sister in a little too tight of a hug and laughs at the grunts Alex dramatically elates but she hugs her back nonetheless.

“so you have a name yet?” Alex asks after they pull away.

Kara turns to where their family is surrounding Lena , who is now holding the baby.

It’s the purest sight , the most wholesome. A vision of everything she has desired right before her.

“Well I need to run it by Lena first but yeah” she turns back to her sister , eyes twinkling  with mirth.

“Elan”

___

hope y’all liked it uwu

[wordsablaze]

12/13 - shared earworms

A Dozen Denials Soulmate-identifiers exist to make things easier unless you’re Jaskier, who’s equally as deep in love as he is in denial. But there’s only so many excuses you can make to avoid the truth… (aka jaskier’s soulmate is definitely a witcher, just not the one he first assumes)

A/N: his last misunderstanding, thank the stars... @alllthequeenshorses @eskel-loves-lilbleater

previous chapter

-

Oxenfurt is magical.

And no, that isn’t just Jaskier being dramatic, the city truly is far more magical than people give it credit for.

When Jaskier had first arrived, he’d had no idea how some bards could spontaneously burst into a duet with no preparation whatsoever. And he’d had no idea how some students could enter a classroom and start humming the next verse to something another student had started humming several minutes back. For a long time, he’d had no idea how some people could be so in sync with each other.

It hadn’t taken long to work it out.

It wasn’t that every couple in the city somehow happened to be incredibly talented at picking up on body language or anything like that, it was just that they could literally hear each other’s singing. And humming. And composing. And generally most musical thoughts.

“How is everyone doing this?” he’d asked his professor during one lecture or the other.

The professor had laughed and handed him a book from his personal library. “It’s not something that can be learned, boy, it’s magic.”

At that, Jaskier had frowned. “What kind of magic?”

“The oldest kind there is, of course,” his professor had replied, “the magic of destiny.”

Jaskier’s grip on the book had tightened painfully as he’d nodded and politely excused himself back to his room, where he’d thrown the book on his bed and flopped onto the floor with a groan; of course this would be a Destiny thing, just his luck.

The book remained untouched for months.

“The professor must have felt really sorry for you if you have this,” Alfie tells him near the end of the semester, picking up the book that had very quickly moved from the bed to his desk, where it was being used more as a paperweight than anything else.

Jaskier hums. “Why do you say that?”

Alfie raises an eyebrow, chucking the book at Jaskier. “Because everyone knows about soulmates. How don’t you?”

There’s a moment of silence before Jaskier groans inwardly. He’d been avoiding the subject altogether but not having returned the book meant he had to come up with some kind of excuse to get him out of receiving everyone’s pity or judgement.

“I do!” Jaskier argues, “I was merely waiting until I’d finished my ballad on the matter before returning his book.”

“Oh? A secret assignment?” Alfie grins, easily convinced by Jaskier’s lies.

Jaskier nods, glancing between him and the book. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I believe you have your own soulmate you ought to be dancing with though, don’t you?”

At that, Alfie smiles so wide it looks as though his face is in danger of splitting right open. “Lena is as much of a gossip as I am, we both know she’d be delighted if I turned up with news of the infamous Jaskier’s new ballad.”

“Consider yourself fortunate to be so knowledgeable then,” Jaskier says with a smirk that’s filled with none of the confidence he has in this ballad he’s now obliged to compose. “But don’t expect any other hints to be divulged just yet.”

“Alright, keep your secrets!”

And Jaskier does, though he spends the next week pouring over the book until his head feels like it’s filled with clouds. The ballad is exceptional but the strange look his professor gives him is filled with enough concern to keep him away from classes for another two weeks.

Only once does he get to experience it for himself, in the middle of Belleteyn.

He’s sat around a small campfire with a group of other bards, listening to Essi attempt getting through a longer ballad whilst slightly tipsy. He’d been supporting her, of course, prompting her the lyrics when she forgot them through the haze of wine, when he’s abruptly pulled into an old elder poem - it’s sad and beautiful and most importantly, it’s not one that he knows. And yet, he finds himself mumbling the words as they appear in his head, accompanied by what sounds like humming.

“Jaskier? What’s next?” Essi asks, giggling even as she frowns in concentration.

But he waves her off, springing to his feet and stumbling over to where he’d put his bag, starting to write the poem down in his journal as if his life depended on it. To be fair, he’d thought his love life might have at the time. He doesn’t realise how frantically he’s scribbling until the humming abruptly stops and he catches up with himself only to realise his hand is stained grey and his knees are damp from having knelt right on the wet grass.

“No no no, come back,” he mutters to himself, then quietly starts singing the ballad of the lovers who met under the spring arches.

He’s running before he knows it, ignoring the way the others call after him and breathing heavily as he makes his way to the towering arches of ivy in the academy courtyard; everyone who’s been to the city even just once knows of them and he hopes his soulmate takes the hint. But the warmth he’d been feeling fades.

Grateful for the darkness, he sinks to his knees once he’s been through the song three times and there’s still no sight of anyone nearby. Then he curses loudly, feeling foolish to even hope for such a whimsical turn of events; he should have known better than to get his hopes up, especially considering everything else he knows about whoever he has the pleasure of sharing all but his soul with.

He avoids the arches as much as he can.

“Have you ever been to Oxenfurt?” Jaskier asks Geralt as they enter Redania together, years and years later.

Geralt shrugs. “It’s loud. Too many people, not enough monsters.”

“Only you would complain about a lack of life-threatening circumstances, my dear,” Jaskier replies, but he can’t help his disappointment.

There’s no way he can force Geralt to accompany him to Oxenfurt just to test some ancient theory but at least he can be comforted by the knowledge that he must have passed through on at least one occasion if he knows what the city is like - perhaps the elder poem had been a hint at their adventures in Posada, he thinks.

In the end, he decides he doesn’t care. He doesn’t need Oxenfurt’s approval to love Geralt and he certainly has nothing to prove to any professors. Besides, he can’t imagine there would be any point in Geralt hearing him perform both out loud and within his mind at the same time; if anything, that would only make matters worse.

Either way, he never stays in Oxenfurt long enough to dwell on it. And nor does he need to when he has so much else to fall back on if he’s ever in doubt; there’s no point in him chasing more evidence when he’s already found the only conclusion he’ll ever need.

(little did he know his conclusion would inevitably be disproven.)

-

i really played around with this so ik it’s not the typical earworm trope but please ignore that bc i am tired and just happy for jaskier to stop being an idiot - next up, Destiny metaphorically punching one (1) bard in the face ;)

-

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

[formerlyrunephoenix6769]

Shattered: Chapter 9

(AMELIE)

 High up in the French Alps, Amelie carefully eased the light sports car round the airpin bend, navigating the twisting and turning roads that often gave way to sudden steep drops offering her breath taking views of the sweeping countryside of Annecy.  As she eased the car down a sudden incline that looped back on itself, descending to the lush valley below, she tapped a perfectly manicured finger nail against the screen of her scroll,

“Angela, can you hear me?”

A voice like one of earlier Omnic models replied, accompanied by the tell-tale crackle of static feedback. As she continued to descend, the doctor’s voice began to come through clearer,

“… ould have come wit.. busy here.. accident..”

Crinkling her brow, the ballerina tapped the screen again in frustration,

“I cant hear you. The reception has always been crap up here. One second.”

Placing both hands on the wheel, she concentrated as a smaller car began to approach from the opposite direction. Normally this mountain pass would be backed up, a sluggish snail snaking down the mountainside but thankfully the busy season was beginning to wind down and the ‘pearl of the French Alps’ would return to its quiet and peaceful existence.

It had only been a few months since Overwatch’s great technological triumph had resulted in disaster, the highly specialised aircraft had phased out of existence and fallout around the accident was astronomical.  Every newspaper and TV pundit speculated to the exact nature of the ‘Slipstream Incident’.

Was it an accident, or was it sabotage?

One publication had gone so far as to have a small tally, counting the number of days the pilot had been MIA. Others had reported every minute detail of the young woman’s stellar career in the RAF, hailing her an Omnic Crisis Hero cut down in her prime. A King’s Row street rat done good.

Nobody had known where the leak to the press had sprung from, but the speed and the intimate details of it fueled paranoia in the ranks of Overwatch.

In a bid to plug it, all none personal had been asked to leave the bases and all Senior Members had been recalled for the unforeseeable future in an attempt to enact damage control and not allow other agendas to fall by the way side.

All the while, no matter what they tried, Overwatch’s best and brightest couldn’t find the answers to the most burning question.

What had happened to Lena Oxton?

At the news that the higher ups were winding down the search and allocating resources elsewhere, Gerard had been beside himself. He had parted that Lena had told him that something hadn’t felt right but he had pushed her, brushing it off with bravado and schnapps. He talked of personnel claiming to have seen his protégé’s ghost on the base and the Gorilla had taken to cloistering himself in the hanger where the accident had occurred, not surfacing for days at a time.

In a bid to get to the bottom of it, Gerard had taken on yet another away mission that only served to drive the wedge further between him and his wife.

Amelie had admonished that she understood, but she felt that he was pushing himself, and Gerard had snapped uncharacteristically, demanding,

“What could you possibly know? You’re a dancer for christ’s sake! - ” He had taken to pacing, his eyes taking on a wild look, “- So you took a few classes. You have no fucking clue what this entails, that someone could have done this deliberately, snuck in and took one of our own, from right under our noses! -”  In a rising rage, he had thrown his clothes in his mission bag,  “- If it was me, I’d want my mates to get to the bottom of it and bring those fuckers responsible, to heel!-” He had poured himself a lavish dram of expensive whiskey as he  continued on his angry tirade, “- If it happened to me, is that what you’d want, me to be left behind, forgotten? Why don’t you stick to what you know, Amelie, and let me get on with my job?”

Gerard’s dismissal had felt like a slap in the face. That he deemed her attempt at improving herself and taking an interest as nothing more than a flight of fancy that he indulged. Placating her rather than listening to her grievances or realizing that she was becoming increasingly unhappy.

That she did in fact know what it felt like to be constantly reminded that in a blink of an eye a loved one could be gone forever. That she lived it every time he walked out of that door without a backward glance, instantly forgotten.

He had spent the next few nights in his study on the chesterfield, whilst she had made arrangements to begin renovating her families ancestral home. With an appointment to keep with a surveyor, she had risen with the sun, leaving him a note before setting off on the long drive towards Chateau  Guillard in the South of France.

 Hitting the valley floor, her scroll crackled back to life,

“Amelie? Are you still there?”

Coming to a T junction in the valley floor, Amelie leaned forward checking both left and right,

“Oui, Angela, I’m still here.”

Her best friend continued,

“I was saying that I would have joined you, leibling, but everything is up in the air right now.” There came a pause of indecision, “-How long are you planning on staying for?”

Satisfied there was no on coming traffic, Amelie took the left turn that would gently snake along the lake side, away from the nearby village, and up through some trees towards the driveway that led the boathouse and only point of access to the grandiose Chateau,

“As long as it takes to make good headway on the renovations,” She gunned the engine, her beloved sports car purring as it began to eat up the tarmac with ease, “ It is far easier for me to co-ordinate from here than back in Paris.” In the distance she could make out the tip of the north bell tower, the rest of the property obscured by the hillside and heavy forest, adding sourly, “-I am ‘sticking to what I know’ and being a dutiful housewife.”

“Amelie, “ On the end of the line there came another pregnant pause, as if Angela was carefully choosing her words, “- I’m … I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that.”

Amelie sighed, maybe she was over reacting and choosing to quite literally run for the hills was petty, but she had no intentions of rattling round their Parisian home with Gerard’s words echoing off the walls, mocking her and calling out her already felt inadequacies, for however long his chosen mission took. And neither could she ignore the anger that during the long drive had fashioned itself into a dull rage sitting in the pit of her stomach. No, she would be much better off throwing herself into a project and far away from the continuous press cycle that didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.

“I don’t care what he meant, it’s the fact he said it in the first place.” Either side of the road the trees were struggling with their Spring plumage allowing shafts of morning sunlight to break through the branches dappling the road ahead, as Amelie pressed on, the speed of the car matching her mounting frustration, “-I’m sick and tired of being side lined, Angela. All I have ever done is support him and now I just feel like …. Like I’m being taken for granted.”

The ballerina slammed on the brakes so as not to over shoot her turn off. Peering through the rearview mirror, Amelie slowly reversed back before carefully easing the low sports car in between two beautifully sculptured gateposts with her family crest intricately engraved into their surface.

“I know he’s stressed and I might sound like a spoiled bitch but…. I need some time alone… I need time to figure out what I’m going to do with myself.”

As the car slid down along the smooth driveway, a break in the trees offered an unadulterated view of the sweeping turrets and stone verandas that made up her idyllic childhood home in the centre of the lake, Amelie pressed a button to roll down the window and let in the fresh spring mountain air. Far off in Switzerland, Angela’s voice full of concern filled the small sports car.

“What are you saying? …. Are you thinking about getting a divorce?”

“What? NO! God no… I’m furious, but I’m not ‘that’ furious…-” She continued to leisurely cruise along the driveway taking  in the way the sunlight twinkled off the waters of the gargantuan lake that skirted her lands and the village that hugged its shoreline on the other side.  “-  I meant, what I’m going to do with my career, continue with ballet, or quit and find something else?”

The doctor asked, perplexed

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.. No.. Maybe? ..-” Gripping the steering wheel tight, Amelie took in a huge lung full of air,            “-I need to clear my head.”

“How about this?” Another pause, “How about… I finish up here. Twist Jack’s arm into making an exception, and I come down an join you? End of this week, beginning of next week or when ever I can?”

Approaching the boat house, the French woman spied an unfamiliar green car parked to one side of the closed gate that would lead into the boatyard, and a white workman’s van on the other.

“Oui, that sounds perfect!” Slowing the car to a crawl, she peered out of the driver’s side window, as a man dressed in a suit, a hard hat and high vise jacket alighted from the car.  Distractedly, she added, “Angela, I think the surveyors here early. I’ve got to go.”

“Alright leibling, I’ll call you as soon as I have news.  Love you.”

Her scroll let out a high pitched whine,

“Love you too, cherie.”

Canceling the call, Amelie pulled the sports car up along side the man who waited patiently on the side of the drive way, clipboard in hand.

He broke into an easy smile,

“Ah, Mrs Lacroix, I presume?”

Leaning slightly out of the window, Amelie looked up returning his smile,

“Oui, oui, am I late?”

“No,-” He laughed, “I am early.”

Using her scroll, she typed in a code and waited for the gate to begin to painstakingly slowly slide back.

“Oh thankgod, traffic was a nightmare coming out of Paris.”

He gestured with the clipboard,

“Quite a difficult place to reach and surrounded by a lake no less. I can see why you asked for a surveyor.”

The gate slid back fully and Amelie carefully slid the sports car into the wide boatyard and into one of the waiting garages. In the rearview mirror, she watched as from the white workman’s van, two men got out wearing navy blue boiler suits and carrying work bags.

Unclipping her scroll from its snug on the dash board, she stashed it in her hand bag before pressing her thumbprint to the  ignition starter and alighting from the car. In the early morning sun, the three men waited taking in their surroundings. Approaching her as she exited the garage, the surveyor asked,

“Would you have your I.d?” He pulled out a device from the depths of his pocket, “It’s so I can scan it and start the clock.”

The french woman blinked,

“Yes, of course.” Pulling out her purse she teased her national identity card from its snug, “There you go.”

Gently taking it from her outreached hand, the surveyor gave it the once over, inspecting the card and looking back at her, before swiping it along the device.

“It’s policy,-” He kindly offered, “Stops people like this lot,-” Tipping his head towards the workmen, “-Fudging the numbers.”

One of the workmen came to casually lean against the wall to the left of her,

“It’s a grand place you got here…” He slowly began to roll up his sleeves, “- Boats the only way to get there, right?”

Taking back her i.d card and slipping it back into her purse, Amelie nodded,

“Oui, I’ve been coming here since I was a child, so I handle the boat usually.” Turning her back, she leaned up to activate the garage doors and the locking mechanism.  “- If you are worried about access, the village on the other side has a much wider marina and much larger boats for hire. The cost is of no object. I’ll get a good deal.”

 The workman let out a whistle through his teeth,

“Lucky for some, eh?”

Amelie attempted to humbly wave him off,

“No, no. My relatives left me .. shall we say.. comfortable.”

He gave her a lopsided grin,

“Is it true you’re a Countess?”

Amelie crinkled her brow in confusion,  stammering,

“What.. what ever gave you that idea?”

His workmate gave a mirthful shake of his head,

“What he means to say is. . When we heard of the job.. we.” He gestured with his hands, “- researched the place. It’s got a rich history.”

Rudely butting in, the first workman continued,

“So are you?”

She opened her mouth, gawping like a fish for a few moments taking in both their eager expressions, before laughing,

“I ,” She gestured to herself, “- am not a Countess per se. But… there is an old defunct title attached to the property , that would, if such things were important in this modern era…, make me a Countess.”

The first workman turned to his colleague,

“You owe me 5 bucks!”

“God damnit!”

With a small shake of her head at their antics, she finished checking that the security was locked down on her beloved car.

 As she made her way across the courtyard, the three men followed close behind, nearly bumping into her when she stopped at the door that led into the boat house. Her fingers tapped danced lightly across the keypad, with a click the door opened and four entered the gloom. With a brittle bark of laughter, the surveyor patted his pockets,

“One sec, I forgot something. Be right back.”

The other began to rummage in his work bag. On the side wall, Amelie flipped open the electric box to activate the winch that would slowly lower the sleek looking speed boat into the murky water. She turned round, surprised to find the first workman so close. He shot her a grin as she sidled past him to the safe box where the speedboats ignition key was kept. The remaining workman flanked her on the other side, so close she could almost feel the breath on her skin, the tiny baby hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle as she hesitantly reached up a finger. Trying to keep the shake out of her voice, she shouted over the screeching of the winch,

“A little room gents.”

The second workman grinned at her wolfishly,

“Oh Amelie, where you’re going there is gonna be no room at all.”

He made a lunge at her. Instinctivly, she thrust up the heel of her palm connecting with his nose, as she has been taught to do in her self defense classes.  He staggered back, gargling and cursing as the other workman grabbed her in a choke hold from behind. She tried to scrabble into her hand bag in an attempt wrap her fingers round the pepper spray she kept there. As she struggled to breath she remembered Ana Amari’s words, if ever grabbed by a bigger opponent relax into it and throw them off. Amelie dropped her hand bag, pushing back into him, using her strong legs from years of ballet throwing them both off balance. He staggered back, the sudden loss of opposing force adding to his momentum, crying out as he collided with one of many winch handles that aligned the wall. The loss of grip on her windpipe gave her much needed inches to turn her head and sink her teeth into his muscular arm, causing him to scream in agony.  She kicked out with her feet at the nose busted workman, who dodged to one side, his feet knocking her handbag into the water.

“Get the fuck hold of her!” He yelled.

Trying to shake her off only caused Amelie to grind her teeth down, filling her mouth with flesh and the metallic taste of blood. He let go shoving her away from him. The surveyor came through the boathouse door for a split second distracting her. She didn’t see the south paw closed fist that collided with her jaw causing her to reel and her vision to blur.

“Go down, you fucking whore!”

A second swift punch hit hard in her gut knocking the wind out of her and caused her to collapse onto the wet stone floor.

She thought she heard the surveyor say,

“Dont break the merchandise!”

“Cunt broke my nose!”

“Yeah well the fucking bitch took a chunk out of my arm.”

Amelie spat the contents out of her mouth, trying to suck in huge lungfuls of air. If she could just get into the water maybe she could swim to the castle like she had plenty of times as a teenager or when the boat was out of gas. She made as if to crawl.

Someone caught her by the hair,

“No, you don’t.”

She felt a sharp prick in the back of her neck and she was left to flop on the slick flagstones. Someone turned off the winch, and the only sounds was the water lapping against the stone work.

“She’s a god damn wild cat. Thought you said she was a dancer?”

Her vision began to swim with black and purple dots and her tongue felt flaccid and swollen in her mouth. She attempted to move but her limbs refused to her obey her. The surveyor rolled her over onto her back, crouching down to inspect her.

“Ballerina, to be exact.”

Wiping his bloody nose on his sleeve, the workman with the broken nose peered over his shoulder,

“She’s a fucking ballerina??”

With soft, gentle fingers, the surveyor examined her jaw, turning her head this way and that, regarding her thoughtfully. As Amelie slipped into unconsciousness, she heard him say,

“She’s the wife of THE target, what else did you expect?”

https://formerlyrunephoenix6769.tumblr.com/post/182608876761/ithought-it-would-be-much-easier-to-make-a-post

Link to the whole “Shattered” universe and full story.

[fernwehbookworm]

Knight of Kandor- Chapter 8

"You added a new guard to Lena's protection?" The queen sits on a platform above me.

"Yes, your highness."

"Who is this man?"

"My former squire, John Jones. Sir James took over training him since we arrived here at court. He has now completed his training."

"I see. Are you being cautious with all these new people in the city?"

"Yes, your highness."

"Excellent. Dismissed." I bow and leave, trying to shake off the chills that I usually get when faced with the Queen.

My stomach growls. The Queen had summoned me then made me wait for hours before seeing me. She claimed it was other meetings running long but I doubted it. She used her power to make me wait before asking me tow questions. I head to my room and dress for the third night of festivities.

Again Lena steals my breath away. Her hair flows in waves over her shoulders. Her dress is free of any embroidery that distracts the eye. The blood-red silk matches the rouge of her lips and hugs every curve of her figure just right. The white of my tunic made her dress all the bolder. Lena takes my arm without a word. Some small voice in my mind spoke the truth, she continued to steal my breath because she had already stolen my heart.  I could hear my fathers voice though, shouting the whisper down, shouting down the feelings.

"Where is Lady Jessica?" I ask when I realize what felt a little off as we walked through the corridors.

"I believe being escorted to the feast by Donovan."

"Well, they are spending a lot of time together lately."

"Yes, and Jessica is absolutely giddy about it." We lapse into silence at the unspoken words between us.

The food tastes bland at the feast. I know I should enjoy it more but most my plates go untouched. I need to say something, anything, but there are too many listening ears. I do not know what I would say but I know I feel Lena pulling away and I know I do not want that. How could she trust me when I admitted to secrets that she could hang me for?

"May I have this dance?" I ask Lena.

She looks a little surprised at the abrupt question but nods. The dance floor may be crowded but there are so many people and so much noise that words do not drift too far. She is close again, too close.

"Lena..." I hesitate, looking for the right words.

"Kal, it is okay. I trust you. Why else would I be here?"

"Lena, I just wish I could tell you, but if I did you will despise me. Or send me away. My parents and I always feared what would happen if the secret was known. Now I am alone in that fear. I just..."

"Your parents?" I wince, I could not stop rambling around her.

"Never mind. I have said too much." I look away from her searching eyes.

"Kal, I do not think I could ever hate you." I look back at her and smile, trying to convince myself it was really true.

A glint of light off metal catches the corner of my eye. Suddenly time slows down. I shove Lena behind me and catch the hand holding the knife with my own. I meet the eyes of a man dressed in servants clothing. The cold confidence in his eyes though says otherwise. This was a man not just sent to kill, but trained to. I pull my fist back to aim a punch at the face staring at me with determination. Pain explodes in my side as a second knife in the man's other hand grazes my side.

I recover quickly and jab the man in his throat. The man wheels backward, I follow with a punch to the stomach, then face again. He topples unconscious to the floor. I see guards converging on us as people scatter away. I grab Lena's hand and pull her from the hall. I race through the corridors and back to her rooms, tugging her behind the whole way.

"Every single one of you is to be in the corridor immediately." I bark to the men on duty, not bothering to see who it was.

"No one gets passed you." One of them takes off to gather the others.

I pull Lena into her chambers, I think she had been protesting the whole way but I did not hear it. I check every corner of her room. Under the bed, behind curtains, the balcony, even the privy and small office.

"Kal! Please stop. Look at me." Lena finally breaks through my internal panic. I look at her standing in the middle of the floor. Concern drips from her and finally makes me walk over to her.

"Are you okay?" I ask

"Me? Kal, look at yourself. You are bleeding."

I look down. Red blooms across my white tunic, soaking it through. The sight shocks me. Suddenly my head begins to pound, my legs feel too weak to support me. My knees give out and the floor rises up to meet me.

"Kal!" I hear Lena call my name but darkness descends before I can respond.

(Winn)

Suddenly the music stopped and I jerked my head up. The nameless girl I was pretending to flirt with was immediately forgotten. People surged back from the middle of the room, screams were scattered throughout the crowd. I jumped onto the table to see what was happening, Kal stood over a man on the floor. His once white tunic now had a tear in the side and blood poured out. he grabbed Queen-in-waiting Lena's hand and pulled her out the door behind the high tables.

The gash makes me panic. Kal would not be able to see a normal healer. I begin to force my way through the surging bodies. As so as I reach the now cleared dance floor, I begin sprinting after them. Corridors rush by. At one intersection I have to stop and catch my breath. I look down and see blood splattered on the wood floor. I know they are headed to Queen-in-waiting Lena's rooms and I just hope I catch them before that. I round the hallway just in time to see one of the guards take off. the other draws his sword and drops into a fighting stance. I try to stop but my feet slide on the polished wood floor. I almost face plant on the floor at the man's feet.

"Leave! Now!" I peer under the helmet.

"Conner, buddy! It's me! Winn?" The sword points lowers to my chest.

"No one enters."

"Conner, please. Kal is hurt. He will need help." I see the panic in Conner's eyes but he is trained too well, the sword does not waver.

"Stand down!" comes a deep voice behind me.

John, Kal's former squire, approaches behind me. Conner does not move except to shift his glare to the man towering above me. Conner slowly sheaths his sword and steps aside. John rests a hand on my shoulder and steers me through the opening.

"Hey, hey, hey. Watch the tunic. It's new."

"Do you know?" he ignores my protests and I swallow hard.

"Know what?" my voice raises an octave and I curse my inability to lie.

"I will take that as a yes. He needs us before the Queen-in-waiting finds out."

"Kal!" A harsh cry comes from behind the heavy doors.

John rushes in and pulls my arm roughly behind him. Queen-in-waiting Lena kneels over Kal's unconscious form. His tunic was more red then white at this point. I stand frozen in the doorway. John rushes to flip Kal over.

"Winn, grab his feet." John's words spring me to action.

"Wait! Where are you taking him?" Queen-in-waiting Lena's voice is filled with panic.

"My lady, we have to stop the bleeding and he has supplies in his room." John tries to quell her panic.

"So go get them." She tries to force command into her voice. I take her shoulders and look deep into her eyes.

"My lady, if you trust Kal, if you want to protect him, please let us take him from here." Tears are moments from spilling out of her eyes when she nods.

Quickly I scoop up Kal's feet. John lifts his shoulders and takes most of the weight before we back through the open door.  We set Kal back down outside his own door. John pulls slightly bloodied keys from one of Kal's pockets and quickly unlocks the door. Just as swiftly John lifts Kal again and I follow him into the room. We gently set Kal on the bed and John practically dives under it. He comes up with two small chests. He opens them both. One looks to hold cloths and the other a mix of herb and plants.

"Lock the door," he commands as he moves to dig through the chest at the foot of the bed.

When the bolt is securely in place I turn back to see John searching through the wardrobe.

"Dammit, Kal. Where did you put it?"

"What are you looking for?" I ask.

"A book on herbs Kal had. I know there is one that stops bleeding but I am not sure which one.

"Oh, I know this! He gave me the book. Hold on." I look into the box of herbs, trying to remember the page. I have to peer closely in the dim light. Finally, I find it.

"Aha! Now we need to grind it with water to form a paste."

John had been pressing some of the cloths to Kal's side and nods for me to take over. Again he begins to search through Kal's belongings and finds a stone pestle and mortar. He begins with the small leaves I found, then adds in a little water from the flask on the bedside table.

"Okay, that should be good. Take off his tunic and I'll spread it on the wound. It should stop the bleeding so we can wrap Kal's chest." John hands over the pestle.

John actually just rips open the fabric instead of lifting it over Kal's head like a normal person. I scoop the green paste into my hand and use a cloth to wipe away as much blood as possible before spreading it on. My stomach turns at how wide the gap is in the skin. Once the seal is in place John lifts Kal's shoulders and I quickly remove the ruined warp and replace it. I knew Kal wrapped his chest and the extra fabric just may have saved his life.

"What now?" I ask John.

"Now we wait." John begins to put away the boxes and grinding tools. We both sink to the floor, no other seating was available in Kal's sparse possessions.

"How did you know?" I ask John.

"I was his err... her squire. I had my suspicions. Then one day I was sent to get Kal for an emergency. She was bathing in the river, deep in the woods. I backed away and began calling out to give Kal time to dress. I never told him, her, because Kal was the best. She deserved everything she earned. Plus, despite the few words and even fewer emotions, I grew to love her. Not in any romantic way, but like family. She taught me everything."

"Him, just use him. Kal told me about his secret. He may be shocked that you know."

"Well, hopefully, he lives to be shocked."

Banging on the door makes us both jump to our feet. The door shakes again with the force of it. John grabs a fresh tunic from Kal's wardrobe and tosses it to me. I struggle briefly to pull it over his head before finally getting him back into a laying position. When Kal is settled John opens the door. A furious Jessica stands in front of an almost distraught Queen-in-waiting.

"What is happening?" Lady Jessica demands.

"We think we stopped the bleeding. Now we have to see if he will wake up. Please, my lady, do not come in. If you respect Kal at all, then go wait in your own chambers."

"Just let me see him. See him breathe." Lena says in a small voice. I pull the covers up over Kal just before John lets the door swing wide.

Lena comes just far enough to see Kal's short labored breaths. Her hands fly to her mouth and she turns into Jessica's shoulder. John guides them both gently back to the  Queen-in-waiting's chambers. I slump to the floor and rest my back against the wall by Kal's head.

"Come on Kal. You cannot go out like this. I am so close to finding a way for you to be you."

[astral-apiary]

Still Human

Title: Still Human Relationship: Widowmaker/Tracer “Widowtracer” General Audiences

Inspired by @trixdraws comic New Years Eve. Thank you for giving me permission to work off it, I had a lot of fun writing this!

Summary: 

Amelie Lacroix knows she’s nothing more than a weapon now. But after the assassination in King’s Row, she realizes that the Overwatch agent Tracer made her feel human again. Amelie seeks her out again on New Year’s Eve to find out why that is.

“‘I’m not here for them, cherie.’… ‘Then for what?’ Lena asked, her voice beginning to lose its defiance… 'You.’”

    There were times when Amelie Lacroix barely felt human. In truth, she felt less like a human and more like a weapon for every kill she made. For a couple minutes after she completed a kill, she felt her heart thump in a way unlike it ever had since she had joined Talon. It was a shot of heroin straight into her heart. But after the few minutes were past, she once again felt her heart slow to the cold, delayed beat it was before. There were only two speeds: deathly slow and erratically fast. There was nothing in the middle.

    Until Mondatta’s death.

    It was supposed to be like any other job; she’d eliminate the target and be picked up by Talon lackeys before the area could be searched. But this did not go as planned.

    Suddenly everything was complicated by a few moments: a “blip” from that damned ape’s invention; a ridiculous and girlish Cockney accent; orange lycra wrapped around agile legs and slim hips. “Trying to crash another party, love?”

    It was that foolish young Overwatch girl, codename “Tracer.” She put up an impressive fight; she was clever and quick. But the assassin had experience, and ultimately won, eliminating Mondatta in a skewer move that would make the most advanced chess master impressed. Flush with the familiar exhilaration of the kill, she watched the chaos below in contempt before feeling the wind rush from her lungs as she was knocked to the ground by the Overwatch agent.

    Their faces were dangerously close. Widowmaker could notice the clarity of her maple syrup eyes and the way her nose turned up at the end. Those eyes…there was something familiar about those eyes, Widowmaker considered, but was distracted as Tracer begged her for an answer for the death of the peaceful omnic.

    Bidding the distraught agent adieu, Widowmaker dispatched her and made her getaway. However, the cold assassin realized something was off the moment she was alone in the back of the helicopter. She could feel her heartbeat steady and constant.

    A human heartbeat.

    Neither exhilaratingly fast nor terribly slow. Just…steady. A simultaneously familiar and terrifyingly foreign feeling. The shock of the realization nearly took Amelie’s breath away; she was not a woman easily surprised.

    Talon had done all they could to make her into a pure weapon, gaining feeling only from killing. But there could be no complete erasure of her human past. Somehow, Mondatta’s death had triggered some return of those human roots. The reason was unknown to her; she felt no connection to Mondatta, nor his beliefs. As she processed the conundrum, she felt her heart begin to slow to its deathlike beat. Whatever had caused the anomaly was gone now.

    An obnoxiously cheerful Overwatch agent appeared in her mind. In particular, it was the moment they were too close, Amelie pinned beneath the young agent as she begged for an answer to Mondatta’s death. Her heart sped up, much to Amelie’s chagrin.

    But why her? Why this meaningless girl? Amelie couldn’t fathom the reason for the Cockney agent’s effect on her. What she did know was that the steady heartbeat, the feeling of being human…it felt impossibly good. Warm and comforting, like a hearthfire. She had known only cold for so long she had forgotten how addicting that feeling was.

    Amelie isolated herself within her quarters at Talon’s underground bunker while she contemplated these new developments. She was assured that Talon did not require her skills for weeks, and she would be left alone until she was called upon. Curious, she supposed, as New Year’s Eve would be a prime time for attack. Civilians would be gathered together en masse, waiting beneath the clock towers of their hometowns and cities for the fateful hour of change to strike. Inhibitions lost, people all over the world would be out and about in the open.

    Even the girl.

    Amelie’s eyebrows drew together. Her eyes darted to the analog clock sitting next to her sparse bed. It read 10:17. She had time.

    Lena Oxton adjusted the flight goggles keeping her unruly hair in place as her excited red-headed girlfriend Emily pulled her by her hoodie sleeve through the crowd towards the grandiose London clock tower, Big Ben. The big hand of the clock ticked ever so slightly closer to the little hand, pushing toward the beginning of a new year.  Lena and Emily tucked themselves into a little pocket of people, shoulders rubbing shoulders with strangers excited for the new year. “Four minutes left!” Emily said, a grin dimpling her freckled cheeks.

    Lena glanced at her girlfriend, smiling warmly. It felt so good to see so many people gathered to celebrate the birth of a new year after having to deal with the horrors of recent acts of terrorism. The people deserved at least one night of joy, and Lena was happy she could be a part of it.

     Suddenly, she heard a familiar boom sweep through the crowded square. Emily chuckled and looked up at the dark night sky for any illumination. “Looks like someone got a little too excited, lighting a firework already!”

     Lena’s trained ears knew that the sound wasn’t an exploding firework, but a rifle firing a bullet. She squeezed Emily’s hand and said, “That didn’t sound right. I’m gonna take a quick peek around and make sure everything’s okay, alright?”

    Emily’s eyes grew concerned. “Should I be worried?”

    Lena scoffed good-naturedly, hiding her doubts. “Probably nothing. Just wanna be sure. You know me, Miss Paranoid here!”

    Emily’s eyes did not lose their worry. “Okay, but please be careful.”

    Lena gave her trademark grin. “Nothin’ to worry about, love!” She pushed her way through the crowd away from the clock tower and started running towards the back alleyways of the London streets. The chronal accelerator underneath her white and orange hoodie glowed as she blinked to the rooftops, drew her pistols from her shoulder holsters and began to scan the area for a familiar sniper.

    Amelie watched the smoke from her rifle barrel curl towards the heavens. Her bullet had made a perfectly circular hole in a billboard advertising Lucio-Ohs. The target did not matter; it was the sound that did. ‘That should get her attention,’ she thought, lowering Widow’s Kiss down slowly as it reconfigured from sniper rifle into the more portable assault rifle. The December air cut through her tan trench coat and black turtleneck, but her cold skin barely reacted to the biting wind. The excitement of the crowd had not changed to screams of terror, so she guessed that no one realized that it was the sound of a gunshot, not a firework. But Tracer was a soldier at heart. She knew the sound of gunfire.

    She heard the telltale tone of the device on the Overwatch agent’s chest. Amelie raised her scope visor to her forehead and looked behind to see Tracer sprinting across the rooftops towards her. The agent was suddenly enveloped in a blue light before disappearing and reappearing before her barely a meter away, guns drawn.

    “Haven’t you done enough already? Can’t you let these people have one day of peace? One bit of hope?” Amelie did not respond, focusing instead on Tracer’s eyes; those warm chocolate eyes that looked at her with such familiarity, such hurt, such betrayal. She could tell Tracer could remember when Amelie was human. She wished she could say the same. Amelie could, however, remember those eyes; warm eyes that cared and laughed and sympathized. She didn’t break her gaze with the defiant pilot, letting the vague wisps of memory envelop her mind. They were warm and happy, with a sense of belonging. There it was again; that feeling of being…human. Her heartbeat pulsed like the ticking of a clock, and suddenly the girl in front of her was no longer Tracer the Overwatch agent, but Lena Oxton, a quirky young pilot who wanted nothing less than to save the world.

    Lena advanced forward cautiously, her pistols steadily aimed at Amelie’s chest. Amelie observed how normal she looked; despite the bulky, glowing device on her chest, her hoodie and jeans made her seem incredibly ordinary.

    “I’m not here for them, cherie,” Amelie said quietly with a voice like velvet. A look of confusion crossed Lena’s face as she lowered her pistols slightly. In the distance, she could hear the eager countdown begin under the clock tower. Amelie walked forward, closing the distance between them. Her boot heels clicked against the rooftop, the only sound made between them.

    “Then for what?” Lena asked, her voice beginning to lose its defiance as she stood frozen to the ground. Amelie moved Lena’s pistols out of the way with little resistance, and pressed forward until her chest touched ever so slightly against Lena’s chronal accelerator. The sniper’s hand moved up and brushed her fingertips against Lena’s face as the countdown reached its climax.

    “You.”

    Amelie’s lips pressed against Lena’s. Fireworks exploded in the night sky as a chorus of “Happy New Year” sung through the air. Amelie felt Lena tense beneath her as she kissed her and cradled her face with one hand. But after a moment passed, she felt Lena relax and press her lips more firmly against Amelie’s.

    Amelie’s heart beat faster; not with the wild exhilaration of a kill, but with the flustering heat of infatuation. At the same time, her head swam with the memories Lena’s scent brought her: laughter with a family unlike any other, comradeship with the knowledge that someone would always have her back, loving support…

    Lena pulled back suddenly, staggering backward. “Ah…Amelie…?” she stammered, for once lost for words. Amelie suddenly realized the vulnerability of her situation; while the blood rushing through her veins and the emotions running through her were addicting, she was still the enemy and the woman before her still carried weapons that would tear through cotton and wool without hesitation. She stared into Lena’s russet eyes for a long moment before reluctantly tearing her gaze away to sprint off, leaping from rooftop to rooftop towards her evac site.

    Amelie was still a weapon to Talon. Her resting heartbeat was still under 20 beats per minute. Her skin was still unnaturally blue from the physiological torment Talon put her through. But now she knew that she was still human. She knew she could feel emotion. And she knew that the agent known as Tracer was so much more to her than just an enemy.

    “I’m back,” Lena called as she opened the door to Emily’s apartment. Her girlfriend sat on the couch with a video game controller in her hand, which she put down the moment she saw Lena. The redhead jumped off the couch and embraced Lena in a tight hug. “God, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said into her shoulder. Lena hugged her back and breathed in her familiar perfume.

    “I’m sorry I didn’t get to celebrate the New Year with you,” she said, pulling away. Emily waved her hand dismissively.

    “Oh, don’t apologize, I’m just happy you’re not hurt. Happy New Year.” She smiled and gave Lena a kiss before jumping back on to the couch. “Wanna play?” she asked, offering another controller.

    “Thanks, love, but I think I need to hit the sack. Something about today just really wiped me out.” Lena’s shoulders slumped heavily and her voice lacked its usual bounce. Emily could tell she was exhausted.

    “Okay. I’ll be in in a bit. Have to teach some pricks that they can’t say stuff about my mum like that.” She smiled sympathetically to Lena before resuming her game.

    After changing into PJs, Lena collapsed on the queen-sized bed and stared at the ceiling. The events on the rooftop ran through her mind on loop, vivid as the moment they occurred. She rolled on her side, shutting her eyes and trying to relax to get the images out of her head; it all meant nothing. Widowmaker was still a ruthless killer. She was no longer the mature, compassionate woman Lena had admired as a young agent. It would be foolish and dangerous to assume that she still existed inside that terrible shell.

    And yet…the last thought on Lena’s mind before she drifted into dreamless sleep was the electricity she felt when Amelie pressed her lips against hers.