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#supercorp makes up
damienns · 4 months
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natalievoncatte · 5 months
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It began with a sneeze.
Lena’s entire body tensed, pain wracking her sinuses, and she tried to tamp it down and swallow it. There was a room full of investors, and she paused mid-presentation. She held up a protesting hand, signaling that she needed no help, and waved off her assistants. Finally the feeling subsided and she soldiered on, accidentally repeating part of the presentation. It didn’t matter, it was just a formality.
After, she was sitting alone in her office and she did sneeze this time, hard, into a silk handkerchief. A dull ache had settled into her bones and she felt droopy, tired. Still, she had work to do. Not the work she wanted to do. Not running the company, not strategizing. Not inventing or innovating. It was menial. It was assigned. She worked for her brother.
It was his pretty revenge, because Lena shot him two times in the chest. Then a bunch of very strange shit happened and Lena suddenly found herself in an entirely different world where Lex had never died, even though they both remembered it. A hellish nightmare world where Lillian was a philanthropist and Kara and all her friends worked more or less for Lex, keeping aliens in check.
Lena couldn’t go to her best friend for help, because her best friend had betrayed her. Lena almost wished she’d been erased when the multiverse collapsed, replaced by a copy of herself who’d never felt this agony.
There was a truth she would never admit, even to herself.
She’d feel better if Kara was here.
The days dragged on and so did her cold. Except, it wasn’t a cold. On the third day she woke to a high fever, feeling a little wobbly when she forced herself out of bed. Her sinuses burned and she had to breathe through her mouth. When she took her temperature, it was elevated, close to being dangerous. Every muscle and joint on her body ached and the sight of food made her retch involuntarily.
Lena had the goddamn flu.
She did something she’d never done: by a curt email, she informed her staff that she was ill and would not be in the office today. Instead, she rummaged through her closet, her breath catching on a familiar sweatshirt.
It was a Midvale High School Mathletes sweater. It was Kara’s, but Lena knew with a certainty that Kara had not been in Lena’s penthouse since It Happened. There was no way for this to get here but…
She stifled a sob. This world had its own Lena, one whose life she’d appropriated or merged with or God knows what, and that Lena Kara’s clothes in her home. Lena kept stumbling across them and it hurt more every time.
Had they been happy, before? Kara must have spent the night. They must have been close. Lena had been close with her Kara; they hung out and Kara had slept over a few times but they weren’t really on your-clothes-in-my-closet terms. Had that been what happened here? Did they share the bed? Were they…
Did they…
Lena put it on, felt it shelter her body. She put in two pairs of leggings and hoped her laptop would warm her. She curled with it on the couch, and got exactly nothing done. After three hours she closed the computer and flipped channels until she found the old friend of the seriously ill and the chronically unemployed: reruns.
Curling on one end of the couch, she laid her head to rest on the arm and her eyes slid closed.
It seemed that as soon as she did, she opened them again. Her head was throbbing. She tried to push herself up, but it was too great an effort and she flopped down again. Her throat was dry and sticky, and unable to breathe through her nose, air came in reedy wheezes. Swallowing only made it worse, and she felt a rising panic.
Something beyond sleep, thick and heavy, was dragging her down, even as she struggled.
A chill night breeze rolled over her, and she shivered explosively.
"Easy now. I've got you."
Powerful arms lifted her limp body and carried her. Gently, Lena was laid on her bed and a blanket thrown over her.
She opened her eyes. Kara sat her up, cradling her in one arm as she held a glass in another, so Lena could drink. She let the cool water wet her throat and did her best to breathe again. Gently, Kara lowered her back down to rest and folded a cool, damp cloth on her forehead. Lena sighed in relief.
“Get out. Don’t want you here.”
“I’m sorry,” Kara whispered. “I can’t leave you alone like this. I’ll be right back.”
She was indeed right back, Supergirl walking into Lena’s budoir carrying a drug store bag full of medicine. She sat Lena up again and administered the foul tasting stuff over Lena’s protests, then shut off the lights.
Lena tried to roll on her side. It didn’t go well.
Kara knelt and slipped out of her boots. Then, she undid one side, then the other, and unclasped her cape from her shoulders. She then swept it over Lena and tucked it around her gently.
“Kara,” Lena muttered.
“Hush. It’s a blanket. It’ll keep you warm.”
Lena wasn’t sure what happened next, if she dreamed it or if it was real, but she felt the bed shift as Kara climbed aboard and laid down beside her.
Eventually, she woke up again. Kara was tucked against her back, one arm thrown protectively over Lena’s side, resting on her blanket cocoon. Kara snored lightly, lying on the bed so that her chin rested on the crown of Lena’s head.
Kara noticed she’d stirred and silently stood, offering Lena her next dose of syrupy, nasty medicine. She accepted it just as silently and laid back down to sleep.
The cycle continued. Day came. Kara didn’t leave her. She drew the curtains and laid on the bed beside Lena, never speaking, never making any demands.
Finally Lena was well enough to roll over and face her.
“Why are you here?”
“I heard Gillian’s Island coming from your living room and thought you must be in danger.”
Lena snorted in spite of herself.
Kara softened. Her big blue eyes, eyes that could launch a thousand ships, carried such a weight of sorrow that Lena felt a surge of pain and regret in her heart, wondering why in the hell they were feuding. No. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t just…
“I’m sorry.”
Lena tucked herself into the blankets. She wanted to roll over, to turn away, to stop this before she did something she would regret later.
“I keep finding your things in my place,” Kara murmured. “It makes me wonder if it was different here. If we were different. What if I’d made other choices. If I’d been honest with you. Bolder.”
“You weren’t,” said Lena. “You aren’t. That’s the way it is. That door was closed.”
“When I landed on your balcony, it was open.”
“A mistake I won’t repeat. Careless. Thank you for helping me, but I didn’t need it. I don’t need you.”
Kara closed her eyes and sighed.
“I hate doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“You’re lying.”
Lena jerked back, as much as her aching body would allow, anyway.
“How do you know?”
It didn’t hit Lena that she hadn’t offered a denial, at least not until later.
“Easy,” Kara smiled. “I cheat. Skin conductivity and moisture levels. Heat bloom on your skin. Pulse. Pupil dilation. Breathing patterns.”
“I have the flu. That’s why.”
Kara frowned.
“You’re wearing my sweater.”
“It’s not yours. It’s hers. The lives we stole.”
Kara shook her head. “That’s not what he did. Your brother created this world to live out his fantasies and make me suffer. That’s why your things are at my place and mine at yours. It’s showing us the life we should have had,” a tear shone on Kara’s cheek, “had I not been a fuckup and a coward. If I’d trusted you.”
Lena choked back a small sob, and started to cough violently.
Without a word, Kara gathered her up and rested Lena’s head on her shoulder, walling her up in those beefy, protective arms of hers. Lena allowed it, curling her fingers against the twitching muscles of Kara’s back.
Lena wanted to pull away…
No. That was a lie, a miserable fucking lie. She didn’t want to pull back. She didn’t want to fight. She thought she had to, that she needed to.
“Don’t cry,” Kara said, tenderly brushing a tear from Lena’s cheek. “I know you’re furious with me. I know things are bad. I know your brother has power over us. It’ll get better. I won’t let him hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”
“You already hurt me.”
“I know,” Kara whimpered, her voice wobbling. “I’m sorry, Lena. I’ve never been more sorry about anything in my entire life. I wake up every day praying I can find some way to take it back."
"You can't."
Kara tensed.
"Maybe you don't have to," said Lena.
Kara's breath caught. She lowered Lena to the bed, and this time wrapped them in the blankets together. She was so warm.
"I've got you."
Blessedly, Lena slept.
Each time she woke, she felt better. Eventually, she was well enough for Kara to leave the bed. A few minutes later, Kara came back, and she brought breakfast. Her appetite back, Lena dug in, enjoying the tea Kara brought.
Kara took the tray and plates when she was done.
"You look a lot better."
Lena nodded. "Ah, yes, thank you."
Silence. There was a heavy pause, and then Kara sat down beside her on the bed.
"I wish I'd been brave before."
Lena looked at her, really looked at her, this enchanting vision looking at Lena like she hung all the stars in the sky, her eyes so full of longing that Lena felt she might fall into them forever.
"What would you do if you were brave?"
"This."
Warm fingers curled around Lena's chin. Kara leaned in, and Lena felt it happen even before their lips touched. When they did, it was electric. Lena felt the world spinning. Kara caught her and lowered her to the bed.
"I don't care about multiverses and cosmic entities and your evil brother. No matter what they throw at me, I will always find my way back to you. If you want me."
Lena pulled her down into another kiss, and that was her answer.
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weinzapfel · 6 months
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🤫
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Musician Age Gap AU
Kara goes to the concert expecting nothing more than a tepid evening out. Well, as tepid as a night alone with her goddaughter could be. Esme has a knack for pulling Kara out of any funk she's in, no matter how deep her doldrums. And Esme's excitement to see this specific artist Kara's never heard of is nearly infectious.
Kara finds herself grinning in the car as Esme strictly tells her not to turn the radio on.
"They're gonna play one of her songs, and we need to go in fresh!"
So they simply chat on the ride to the arena, and upon arrival Kara is floored by the flood of people flowing from the parking lot to the venue itself.
"She's only the biggest name in pop music, Aunt Kara," Esme teases with a grin. "What did you expect?"
Kara's eyes go big with an exaggerated shrug of her eyebrows. "Not this!"
"Come on, old lady. This is why we got here early."
Esme finds fast friends among the other fans in line, but Kara steers clear of the parents clearly commisserating over the ordeal. She's not a parent, just a chaperone, and she has no intention of allowing herself to be infected by the endless negativity of long suffering caregivers bemoaning the whims of their tweens and teens.
Once inside, Esme heads straight for the merch table, clearly intent on spending her long-saved allowance money on anything she can get her hands on. The kid's wrists are already stacked with friendship bracelets, her own tote of swaps nearly empty and waiting to be stuffed with shirts and mugs and posters. Kara eyes the mounting total, then catches the moment Esme starts weighing the balance of what she has against the hoodie advertised at $60.
Kara rolls her eyes at the price, then reaches over with her card outstretched. "Add a medium hoodie to that, please."
Esme squeals with delight, and as soon as they're clear of the stall she throws her arms around Kara.
"Thank you!!!!"
"You're welcome," Kara says with a chuckle. "Just don't wear it til you get home. It's going to be hot in there."
"Okay!" Esme is already swapping her existing t-shirt for the tank top she'd gotten, emblazoned with the face of a young woman and the performer's name: LENA
"How do I look?" Esme asks with a spin, bracelets clicking.
Kara grins. "Like the world's cutest groupie." She tilts her head towards the crush of people heading into the stands. "Come on, let's go grab our seats."
"What's a groupie?"
Kara rolls her eyes, only to pause mid-turn when her phone starts vibrating in her hand. She hesitates, meeting Esme's eye.
"Just a sec, sweetie."
"What? No! Aunt Kara you promised no work."
Kara grimaces. "I know, but it might be an emergency." She scans the corridor, gaze catching on a short row of food vendors. "Here, why don't you take this and get us some nachos?"
She shoves forty dollars into Esme's hand and fishes out her bluetooth, nestling it in her ear.
"Aunt Kara..."
"I gotta find a corner somewhere," Kara continues. She points to a section of cinderblock wall a little ways down. "I'll meet you in across from the restrooms, okay? Five minutes, then I'm all yours."
Esme huffs. "Fine."
Kara answers the call, but waits until she sees Esme add herself to the food line before she starts speaking.
"This better be good!" she shouts into her phone. She can't hear anything but a jumble of sound on the other end, the din around her crowding out any words that might have been spoken. "Hold on!"
Reassured to see Esme already in conversation with a number of girl's around her, Kara goes looking for a quieter spot. She finds one in the nearest stairwell.
"What?" Kara snaps.
"Um," her assistant says over the line. "Mrs. Jasper called again? She wants--"
"Eve," Kara growls. "Do not tell me you called me, tonight of all nights, because Mrs. fucking Jasper called making some other inane request."
"I'm sorry!" Eve squeaks. "It's just--"
"Tell her it is after hours, and that she will be hearing from me personally first thing tomorrow morning."
"Oh, um. Okay. I guess--"
"Go home when it's done. And turn off your phone. You shouldn't be working this late either."
"Um. Okay. Thank you, Miss Danvers."
Kara ends the call with a roll of her eyes. But her frustration hardens into panic when she tugs on the door to return and-- it doesn't budge. She yanks again, harder, and still nothing.
"Fuck!" she shouts. She begins pounding on the door. "Hey! Can someone open this door?!"
No one comes to her rescue, her calls likely drowned out by the same noise that had driven her here in the first place. With another curse, Kara steps into action. She chooses to go down, hoping that the next door will open. It does, but the corridor she steps into is nearly empty. She hears a bit of bustle further down the hall, but out of sight.
She heads towards the sounds, trying the handle of every door she passes. None of them turn-- save one. She leans into it a little too hard as she tries the knob, and nearly tumbles into the room at the unexpected open.
Managing to right herself with a small yelp, Kara straightens-- only to freeze upon locking gazes with the young woman staring at her. A young woman Kara recognizes from the shirt her goddaughter had just put on.
Lena tilts her head with a droll grin.
"Well, you aren't my tea with honey."
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amyackxrs · 2 months
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elainiisms · 27 days
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ship so not canon you chew your walls at night
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fazedlight · 11 months
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Enchanted (idiots in love)
“Try something fun,” Nia had said. “Get your mind off science,” Nia had said.
Lena huffed as she flipped through the pages of her spellbook, scrawling notes in her notebook. Science was fun. Labwork was soothing, data analysis was exhilarating, and tinkering solved that itch deep in her bones. She wanted to understand, and science was always there for her.
… except for right now.
It just didn’t make any sense. The double-slit experiment should have produced a diffraction pattern - or at least two straight lines, if somehow magic behaved as a classic particle. But magic did neither. Instead, it either caused a damn fractal or did not seem to pass through the slits at all. How the fuck does this work?
Nia - knowing full well what it was like to struggle with capricious and chaotic powers - had suggested that Lena take a break, try something fun with her magic instead of constantly churning through its utility or its inner workings. The thought made Lena grumpy, but she was out of experiment ideas at the moment - so there she was, flipping through her mother’s spellbook, trying to find something… fun.
Lena continued her grumble, trying to get her mind off her experiments - maybe magic is some sort of phasic neutrino nonsense - and turned her page to a pair of spells that always caught her eye, though she would never admit it. It’s not as though she would ever use the spells for LUST and OBSESSION anyway.
Still, it was interesting, where these two spells lay. The spellbook wasn’t organized alphabetically or in any other methodical fashion - instead, the spells near each other always seemed thematically related. Malicious spells were grouped together, as were benevolent spells, as were helpful spells, often with some illustrations in between to separate the groups.
It always amused Lena that there were only these two spells in this cluster - OBSESSION on the left side, LUST on the right, in nearly the exact center of the book. There was nothing else… no love spell, she thought to herself. Not that she’d ever use it, even if there was a certain kryptonian whose affections she yearned for.
“Are you okay?” came a familiar voice.
Lena looked over her shoulder, finding Kara walking down from the balcony entrance. “Kara,” Lena said, feeling a little lighter as the blonde entered the room. Romance or not, the kryptonian always managed to put a smile on her face. “I’m fine.”
“That’s not what Nia said,” Kara said with a patient smile, halting at the foot of the table, as her hands rested on her hips.
“She has a big mouth,” Lena mumbled.
“She said you’ve been frustrated,” Kara said with a small laugh.
“None of my experiments are working,” Lena grumbled. “Magic acts like nothing I’ve ever seen…”
“You can’t always learn new skills from first principles-” Kara began, before her drifting eyes suddenly halted on the book.
Lena’s brows furrowed in curiosity as she watched a rose tint rise in Kara’s cheeks. Confused, Lena followed Kara’s gaze to the spellbook, before remembering… Obsession and Lust. “Oh, no, no-” Lena started, reaching over to the book to close it. “Not that type of frustrated…”
“W-well, it’s okay if you are,” Kara said, stuttering. 
“I’m not, I’m- I’m fine.”
“You don’t need a spell, Lena,” Kara said, her embarrassment tempered by sincerity. “If you wanted someone. You could have anyone.”
“I- I wouldn’t use a spell, Kara!” Lena said. Goodness knows her brainwashing days were well behind her. “There’s not even a love spell in here anyway.”
“No, there wouldn’t be,” Kara said pensively. “Love can’t be forced.”
“I’d want it to be real anyway,” Lena said, her fingers drifting over the book’s cover as she tried to fight the heat rising on her face. But Kara’s comment was… interesting. “How do you know it can’t be forced?”
“Just a conversation I had with an imp once,” she said, a fond - if perhaps a little sad - smile tugging at her lips. “Love has to be found. It doesn’t work otherwise.”
Lena hummed noncommittally, rising from her seat.
“You’ll- you’ll find it, Lena. Like I said, you could have anyone.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Lena said softly.
“Lena,” Kara said, suddenly concerned as she closed the distance between the two, taking Lena’s hands into her own. “Lena, I’m serious. You’re kind, and so smart, and beautiful-”
“Kara, please,” Lena said, finally meeting Kara’s eyes again.
Kara eyed Lena, shifting anxiously on her feet. Lena tilted her head, curious as to the kryptonian’s newfound nerves. With a pursing of her lips, a determined gaze, Kara nodded to herself, giving Lena’s hands a small squeeze.
“You don’t need a spell to enchant me,” Kara said, her voice shaking. “You don’t need a spell to enchant anyone.”
“Enchant-” Lena paused, her eyes darting between Kara’s.
“I’m not- I’m not expecting us to change, Lena. I just want you to know. Anyone would love you, you just have to put yourself out there, to find the person you want.”
Lena raised her hand to cup Kara’s cheek. “Kara…”
It was sweet, how shy Kara was, how her cheeks burned red - Lena was sure that hers was a matching shade - and yet the kryptonian sought only to give comfort. Lena smiled, as she tilted Kara’s head up, as the kryptonian looked back at her with those deep uncertain blues.
Lena smiled. “You enchant me too.”
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thatonebirdwrites · 2 days
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Cheating Death Part 4 - End
Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3
Epilogue
Finally, after weeks under intensive medical care, she was cleared to go home. Her recovery was far from over. Lena didn't look forward to the intense physical and occupational therapy in store, but at least she could rest in a more comfortable space. Have a bit more freedom.
Alex had insisted on taking her home, though Kara had walked with them until she received a Supergirl call. Lena understood now why Kara randomly took off, and with that understanding came a slow acceptance.
The door swung open at the press of her thumb against the keypad. Alex pushed her wheelchair, and shut the door with her foot behind them. They made it almost to the sofa when the shouts erupted around them.
"Surprise!"
Lena nearly fell out of her chair at the sudden noise. People leaped out from behind the sofa, tumbled out of the kitchen, and poured in from the hallway. They were all there: Kara, Brainy, Nia, J'onn, Kelly, and even Sam and Ruby.
"Welcome home!" Alex said with a grin, meaning she was in on this too.
Lena had no idea what to make of this. She'd never had a surprise... anything before in her life. "Um, thanks?"
Ruby nearly bounded into Lena's lap with her fervent hug. "I'm so glad you're home! We were so worried when we found out." She pulled back with a teary smile. "You gotta stop almost dying on us. Because we need you here, you're family, and Mom and I sort of just got here today, so all I have is this card." She handed it over and put her hands behind her back.
Lena opened it to the words, "We love you. Please try not to die again. Or we'll drag your sorry ass back to the world of the living." The asterisk after 'ass' had a note at the bottom that read, "Ruby was allowed this one curseword in honor of you."
Lena smiled and ran her fingers over the handwriting, some of it Ruby's and some Sam. Why they bothered, she didn't know, considering how she'd ghosted them. She took a deep breath to try to stop the urge to cry. "Thank you, Ruby. I love you both too."
Sam walked up behind her daughter and smiled, her eyes glistening. "Kid has a point." She leaned forward and gave her a half hug, planting a kiss on the side of her head. "I'm glad to see you up. We've been so worried."
She handed Lena what looked like a phone at first glance, until she saw the hinge. Opening it revealed a note that read: "Answer your phone! <3 xxxoo Sam." Under it was one of her guilty pleasures, a very specific hard candy only sold in Ireland.
"Sam..." Lena didn't know what to say. She wiped away tears, frustrated with herself. Since her near death and disablement, she'd become a weepy fool. "Thank you. I'll be better about staying in touch. I promise."
As the others moved forward, one at a time to greet her and welcome her home, Lena found herself smiling and dissolving into tears yet again. She wasn't used to this much care, and it still felt unreal. Like the shoe could drop at any moment, and yet it didn't.
Alex had continued to care for her, Kara and the others had continued to visit, and now that Lena was cleared to rest at home? Here they all were being the sappiest people she'd ever met.
"Make sure you kiss your beefcake," Nia whispered as she dropped a box of chocolates on Lena's lap. "She set this up, and I kind of have money on the line, so give a girl some help?"
Lena laughed, but she couldn't stop herself from sneaking a look at Kara who stood, swaying back and forth on her heels, as she waited impatiently. "Sure, Nia."
Alex gave her a backpack of all things. "Hey, don't give me that look," the director said with a cluck of her tongue. "Think of all the science-y things you can stuff in this thing and loop onto your wheelchair. Nothing will stop you now."
She lightly swatted Alex's arm. "Maybe if I was five, but really, thank you." At least the bag was black, so it matched the chair's coloration.
Kelly's gift was perhaps the most useful. A tool to grab things from afar. Lena immediately snapped it in Alex's direction, who danced out of reach with a scowl. "It's perfect," she said with a grin.
"I know you have a long recovery in store," Brainy said with a bow of his head. "But I will give you access to my favorite..." he glanced at Nia, "... toys as Nia calls them." He held out a small, palm-sized square. "Press your thumb and a holographic interface, encrypted for our communication and projects, will appear."
Lena couldn't resist. She pressed her thumb, and the interface swirled around her, filled with all sorts of delicious programs. "Holy shit, Brainy. Thank you. This is a delight." She pressed her thumb again, and it vanished.
J'onn stepped forward and bowed his head. "I wish to apologize for my actions in not bringing you in sooner. You've always been one of the best of us, and so I offer you the aid of my community. We have had many soldiers wounded in battle, and I will gladly aid in your recovery. So that you may find the mobility that fits your needs."
Lena studied the stoic man and thought back to something Kara had said to her. "You're a good swordfighter?" When he nodded, she smiled. "I was nearly an Olympic fencer. That's my goal. To recover enough to challenge you to a duel."
He bowed to her. "I accept."
Kara came last, of course. "Hey you." She knelt and wrapped Lena in a tight hug. Lena leaned her head against Kara's shoulder and breathed in her usual vanilla scent.
The pain hadn't full healed between them, but they were taking little steps. And with each one, Lena settled into the reality that Kara wasn't some omnipotent do-no-wrong-god, but a trauma-filled, messy alien who feared loss almost as much as Lena did.
That's one thing the past few weeks in Alex's medical ward taught her: perfection didn't exist, and that's okay. It was okay to be imperfect. She'd still be loved for who she was, even despite her sometimes bratty, petty nature.
Kara pulled back and kissed Lena's forehead. "I made this." She handed her a cylinder with lines and dots on all sides. "It's a puzzle box like what my father made. Give you something to do as you heal."
"Kara," she leaned her head against Kara's shoulder. "God, I love you so much," she whispered. "Thank you."
"I love you too." Kara carded her fingers through her hair. Lena gladly took the brief moment to recalibrate herself for more people interaction. Alex's words hovered in her head, "I need you to recognize your limits."
She took stock of her pain, her emotional bandwidth, and decided she could handle an hour. Then she'll ask to go to the bedroom. Plan in place, she pulled back from Kara with a smile.
She blinked away her tears. "Thanks to all of you. Now, I'd like to sit down on the sofa, if you don't mind?"
Kara chuckled and gently scooped Lena into a bridal carry. Her face flushed, likely as pink as her own. "As you wish, milady."
Alex groaned at that while Nia cackled.
Settled on the sofa, Lena leaned back into the cushions in relief. Fatigue plagued her still, and the pain simmered despite the pain meds. Still, she was much improved than a week ago. This ordeal had taught her that even small steps were worthy victories.
"So you ready for cake? Because all welcome home parties need cake." Kara practically hopped from foot to foot.
"Sure, Supergirl," Lena drawled. "Better fly me the best."
"Oh, you betcha. Straight from Belgium." Kara sounded quite proud of herself.
"Kara..." Alex pressed her palm against her face.
"Supergirl?" Sam echoed, her eyebrows raised.
"Wait a second," Kelly looked around, surprised. "Kara is Supergirl???"
Well, it was nice to know she wasn't the last one told after all.
***
Six months later
Lena gripped the bars, most of her weight on her arms. Her legs trembled beneath her, her right foot turned slightly to the left. Kara stood at the other end of the torture session with a grin. "Come on, Lena, you can do this."
"Oh shut up." Lena growled, but there was no heat in her words, only a deep affection. She carefully took a step, and her leg held. A tingling sizzled up her leg muscles, but she didn't crumple. Slowly, she lifted and plopped her other foot down. That one proved weaker than the other, so she leaned into the bars more.
"Remember to breathe." Her physical therapist stood behind her ready to catch if she fell.
She took a deep breath and managed another step. The rhythm of walking felt strange, like a foreign language she'd forgotten after months of using a wheelchair.
Since the attack, she'd kept a low profile. Sam returned as temporary CEO, and Alex proved to be just as protective of her as she was of Kara. Nia's article of the attack won the public's favor for Lena, which had been a nice, short boost for L-Corp.
So she slowly made her way down the bars, each step mores stable than the last. Her muscles screamed at the effort, but she pushed forward, determined.
Kara, as always, lived up to her promise and stayed at her side. Assisted her lab work. Accepted with grace the occasional microscope she threw at her head. Since becoming an independent writer and science consultant, Kara spent more and more time at her penthouse, and it had started to fill up with knickknacks, paintings by Kara, Kara's clothes randomly strewn over chairs, and a kitchen full of enough food for a hungry Kryptonian.
Lena knew she wasn't always the best partner. Sometimes Kara and her fought bitterly, but they'd learned to come together and talk it out. To share space for one another's feelings. To tentatively explore what being together really looked like.
All a step at a time.
Her trek reached the end of the bars, and there Kara stood, her arms out stretched.
"You did it! I told you so," Kara said with a delighted laugh.
Lena leaned forward and let herself fall into Kara's embrace. She looked up and smiled at her lovable dork. "I suppose I owe you that ice cream, my love," she said, wryly.
Kara nodded and brushed her nose against Lena's. "You sure do."
Lena placed her hand on Kara's cheek and kissed her lips. As she pulled back, she smiled at the goofy dazed expression Kara always wore when Lena sneaked a kiss.
"I'll make it two, for being such a good motivator." Behind her the physical therapist cleared her throat. Lena chuckled and for the first time in her life, she actually felt happy.
She'd cheated death yet again and won a girlfriend from it. Quite the bargain when all was said and done.
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rustingcat · 2 years
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Supercorptober day 13 -
Peace
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just-an-ari · 2 years
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day 25- comfy!
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youknowitslove · 1 year
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my gay ass when my wlw otp are having a moment and one of their male love interests has to come along and ruin everything
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Why did I just have an idea for a Supercorp + Dansen au of The Holiday when there's no way I could write it in time
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i started a supercorp portrait of a lady on fire au like three years ago. i'm never going to finish it, but the writing style is pretty cool, so i want to share it. so um enjoy the prologue and a bit of chapter one?
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Prologue. Bonnelles, France. 1786.
“First, my contours,” Kara said, her voice soft and level. She looked out upon the dozen or so young women, their eyes darting back and forth from their papers to Kara herself. “The outline,” she continued. The increasingly swift sound of scratching charcoal prompted Kara to further instruct, “Not too fast. Take time to look at me.” She paused. “See how my arms are placed.”
At that moment, Kara saw the painting.
She swallowed and took in a breath; she schooled her expression before letting out the air with a pathetically soft “My hands.” Her students’ gaze followed her verbal direction, now observing as Kara’s fingers curled with remembrance. Their own hands now began to sketch the slope of hers—the slope that had once coaxed breathy moans from a lover, the slope that had once created that very painting in all of its hollow longing.
Kara felt her heart rate accelerating, and her attempts at calming deep breaths only made her shoulders shake unsteadily. “Who brought that painting out?” Her eyes darted around, landing on each possible offender, as she tensed her core and adopted a stern countenance.
Every student dutifully turned to look at the work.
It was an especially young girl who finally lifted her hand. “I brought it. From the stock room. Should I have not?”
Kara’s “no” felt like a brick, its weight threatening to pry tears from her reddening eyes. So Kara took another swallow, a handful of blinks, a few more steadying breaths.
“Did you paint it?” the girl asked innocently. Nia, her name was? She stared at Kara, oblivious to the flood of sound overwhelming Kara’s mind and echoing in the cavern of her heart.
“Yes,” Kara uttered softly, the word barely audible as they fell from her lips. “A long time ago.”
Nia’s head snapped back to examine the painting once more. It stood on an old but sturdy easel, tattooed and scarred but still standing. The artwork itself was brooding, with a white sun bleeding into a dark vignette. Heavy clumps of clouds occupied the sky and caged some of the sun’s rays, so the fire burning behind the woman was bright enough in comparison to create a dragging shadow of her figure. The flames crawled up the back of her windswept dress, bringing sharp tension to an otherwise lulling, melancholy landscape.
“What’s the title?”
The sound of the sea began to swell in Kara’s head. Her lips trembled. Her body unwittingly swayed slightly. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”
---
Chapter I. The island of Brittany, France, and the surrounding sea. 1779.
Kara squinted into the distance, her face scrunching up a bit as she desperately tried to shield her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun on the water. For all its gorgeous teals and sparkling peaks, it certainly did make her wish for one of those brimmed hats the rowers were all wearing. With every one of their paced paddles, the cork-like little canoe bobbed haphazardly. Kara rather felt as if she were in the wine glass of a thoroughly drunken Marie Antoinette.
At least she wasn’t prone to seasickness.
She still felt quite unsteady, though, being thrown about and forced to pathetically grab onto the boat’s low walls. She leaned forward, trying to regain her balance and ground herself despite the absence of ground.
The wooden pallet holding her canvas was, apparently, as unstable as she was, and the next thing Kara knew, it had been lurched off of the boat like vomit from a drunkard. Kara watched helplessly as it thrashed among the choppy waves, the sea carrying it a few feet from the boat.
The chief rower met her desperate look with exhausted resignation; he ceased his paddling as Kara shed her overcoat and placed a precarious foot on the edge of the canoe.
With a strained creak from the boat’s wood, she jumped into the water, dress billowing behind her. Her first gasp for air upon emerging from the water was audible; she could feel the effort in her throat. Her arms moved in laborious little arcs as she slowly made her way towards the floating pallet and finally made a desperate reach for it. Kara’s fingers grasped onto a wooden board, and she pulled herself up onto it with a grunt.
---
The incessant wind upon the sea was certainly not helping Kara. Dripping wet, she wrapped herself up in her overcoat in a pitiful plea for warmth. She held the edges of the garment up to her lips, the sensation of the dry fabric bringing her some comfort as she closed her eyes and left herself to the mercy of the mighty sea.
But the interminable rocking of the feeble boat wouldn’t allow her any rest.
Kara wasn’t very religious, not anymore. Yet, the sight of the cliffs and coast of Brittany moved her to relieved prayer.
---
The sun had already begun to set as Kara trekked up the sandy coast. Her legs ached with every stumbling, unsure step—maybe she was a bit seasick after all—and her hands were tired of having to grip her full skirt to keep it out of her way.
She paused on the rocks, taking a moment to manually wring some of the water out of her skirt. She filled her lungs with an arduous breath before slinging the rope holding the pallet over her shoulder. Next came the fabric sling, which housed her trunk of personal items—she positioned it on her back with careful poise.
The journey up the cliffs and towards the trees was exhausting. Kara’s skirt required repositioning every few seconds, the rope was digging into her shoulder, and the pallet and trunk slammed into her back with each wobbling step. By the time she reached the straight path up to the residence, her breaths were heavy and pained, and the sun was nearly fully hidden beneath the horizon.
A soft light emanated from the windows above the mansion’s door, helping Kara feel a bit more secure as she knocked. A short blonde woman answered her summon and introduced herself with a flat “I’m Eve.” She opened the door a bit wider and gestured with her body for Kara to come in.
Eve held a small candle as she guided Kara up the stairs, the sounds of their shoes echoing through the grand yet starkly undecorated hallway. The walls of the stairwell were cement bricks, and the wrought iron bannister was rather plain and geometric.
They came to a stop in front of a similarly void room, bare save a few heavy curtains and a daybed. The raised panels along these walls matched the white-painted wood of the window frames, and they gave the chamber some elegant character.
While Eve entered the comparatively less intimidating room, Kara stayed back a moment, taking in the shafts of muted blue light from the windows and the contrasting warm glow of leaping flames from the central fireplace.
Eve crouched down to poke at the fire as Kara set down her belongings. “It was a reception room,” Eve explained. “Though I’ve never seen it used.”
The fire crackled pleasantly. “Have you been here long?” Kara inquired.
“Three years,” Eve answered, directing her attention back to the fire.
Kara peeled off her overcoat and draped it along the wainscoting. “Do you like it here?”
“Yes,” Eve said simply as she stood up. She turned to Kara, meeting her eyes now as her hands smoothed over her skirt. “I’ll let you get dry.” And with a nod, she was on her way.
Kara watched her every step.
Once the door closed, she hastily began removing her overskirt. It fell to the dark herringbone floor with an unglamorous thud.
---
There was no method or grace to the way Kara wrapped her hand around the rusting crowbar, but with a few jerks, she’d managed to successfully pry the top off of the pallet.
After setting down the wood cover, Kara extended her hand, letting it fall clumsily onto the slick canvas in front of her. It was still wet, and her hand’s small circular movement caused moisture to pool at her fingertips, as if her touch had beckoned the water. So her hand withdrew, and Kara slid the canvas out from its container. Her eyes danced over the surface as she considered how to dry it, holding it in front of herself like the Communion host of an evening Mass.
---
Kara decided to accompany her drying canvas, which was now positioned next to the fireplace. Stripped naked, she sat in front of the fire and pulled her legs towards herself—she was vulnerable, sitting there bare and in a new environment, and the action made her feel a bit more small, compact, and safe.
Kara set down her candle so she could light her tobacco pipe with the flames. Her large, smoky exhales grounded her, in a way, with the familiar sight and smell acting as a sort of sedative. And she stared forward, expression blank but unmistakably worn.
---
Kara walked barefoot along the cement floor, making her way through the hall and to the pantry room wrapped in nothing but her robe-like smock.
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putonmyfavoriteshow · 6 months
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I just rewatched a bunch of Supercorp fanvids and now my brain is rotting so hard from dormant feelings rising. I forgot how much they owned my heart. How did they inadvertently create the most heart-shattering, beautiful, romantic storyline featuring actors with the most palpable on screen chemistry I- 😭
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lesbianlenas · 1 year
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i would unironically allow every other piece of television media to be burned never to exist again for 1 min of a supercorp kiss i don’t even care….id be like bye! and watch the kiss on a loop 24/7 for the rest of my life ❤️
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maddiedrawz · 2 years
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for science, how many of you supercorp people are also bechloe shippers?
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