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goldenempyrean · 9 months

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A Luthor's Vulnerability

〚 Notes - Hello, hello! So @ekowolf (I hope you don't mind the tag) requested to do a pt2 to this fic with some Kara and Alex looking after Lena which I thought was a super cute idea so I hope this suffices :D 〛

〚 Pairing - Supercorp 〛

〚 Summary - It's the day after the conference and Lena isn't feeling any better so Kara takes it upon herself (with some extra help) to look after her. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1500 〛

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〘 Part 1 〙

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When Lena woke up the next day she was in bed, not where she had previously fallen asleep on the sofa the previous night and judging by the sleeping blonde nuzzled into her side she deduced that Kara had carried her here.

She tried to sit up but stopped at the overwhelming woozy feeling nestling in her head, even just moving sent the room orbiting around her. Lena let out a soft groan, feeling the throbbing ache in her head intensify. She winced, trying to remember what had happened the night before, but everything was a blurry haze. All she remembered if that the press confer-

Oh god. The conference?! Ignoring the jolt of aches it sent through her, Lena quickly sat upright and reached over to the nightstand and grabbed her phone from the charger (again, she had Kara to thank for that) before frantically googling her name followed by CatCo. 

To her surprise the majority of articles and news reports which appeared weren’t slandering her name, mocking her or even criticising her judgement. Instead they were sympathetic, highlighting her dedication to work despite clearly being unwell.

As Lena scrolled through the articles, she couldn't help but let out a small sneeze. It was followed by another, and then a third, each one making her feel more miserable. She felt Kara stir beside her, and with a soft groan, the blonde slowly opened her eyes.

“Lena? You okay?” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes as she sat up beside the ravenette.

She nodded, “Kara, it’s fine now. I’m fine now.” Her attempt at dismissing her concerns may have been a little more convincing if she hadn’t trailed off into a couple of raspy coughs which had ultimately upset her sinuses and sent her sneezing loudly down into elbow.

"Bless you, you're such a fibber Lena, you can’t fool me.” Kara sighed as she raised her hand to Lena's forehead to check her temperature. “Still really warm and coming from me that’s not a good thing, we should get you some medicine.”

Lena hesitated, her stubbornness wrestling with her weariness. "You don’t need to. I'm used to taking care of myself, Kara. I've never had anyone look after me when I was sick," she admitted, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

Lillian certainly wasn’t a good mother. Sure, when her darling, prized Lex was ill, she’d be sure to swarm him with affection and love, but for Lena? Hell no. She’d be given a box of tissues and be told to deal with it silently. There was no room for weakness in the Luthor household. As such, she’d leant to fend for herself, but just because she could do it, didn’t mean she was good at it. It was only a few years ago that she’d neglected herself to the point of developing pneumonia and even still, she’d worked through it.

Kara's concern softened her gaze as she gently cupped Lena's flushed cheek. "You don't have to go through this alone anymore, sweetheart. I want to take care of you, so please, let me?" Kara's warmth and sincerity melted the walls Lena had built around herself and the Luthor rested her head against her shoulder.

As Lena leaned into Kara's comforting embrace, she felt a sense of relief wash over her, finally allowing herself to be vulnerable with someone who genuinely cared for her well-being. It was so different from what she had been previously been through but it felt amazing. Kara smiled softly, brushing a few strands of hair away from Lena's forehead.

"Okay, maybe I don’t feel the best.” Lena gave in, muffling a cough into her elbow sharply.

Kara's tender touch extended to Lena's back as she guided her to lie down comfortably, making sure her frame was supported with a pillow, "I know you don’t love so just rest for a moment, and I'll get you some medicine and warm tea," Kara said with a reassuring smile before leaving her with a soft kiss as she left the room briefly.

As Lena lay there, she couldn't help but feel touched by Kara's caring nature. It was such a contrast to the cold and distant environment she had grown up in. Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by a sudden tickle in her nose, and before she could react, a loud sneeze escaped her, followed by another one.

"Bless you," Kara said as she returned with a cup of hot tea, medicine and a box of tissues. "Looks like you're in need of these."

Lena chuckled softly, feeling a little embarrassed. "Thanks Kara, you’re so good to me.”

Despite taking the medicine as the day progressed, Lena's fever continued to rise, leaving her feeling weaker and more miserable. She was shivering one moment and sweating the next, her body seemingly unable to regulate its temperature. Kara could see the distress in Lena's eyes, and her heart ached at just how helpless she was in the situation.

So, she gave in and did the only thing left, Kara waited until her exhausted girlfriend had fallen back asleep before picking up her phone and dialling Alex’s number.

“Hey Kara.” The warm, familial voice already made her feel reassured.

“Alex, Lena’s fever still won’t go down and it’s been hours, and I read on Web MD that that’s really bad and I don’t want her brain to melt or I-“ Kara spilled out into a hopeless ramble before being cut off by a small laugh on the other side of the phone, “Alex- Alex, why are you laughing at me? This is serious.”

“Kara, honey. Lena’s gonna be fine. She probably just has the Flu or something. First of all, don’t ever look on the internet for advice, it’d tell you that you ‘likely need brain surgery’ for a simple headache.” Alex explained, easing her sister’s worries, “But if her fever won’t break then she probably needs a stronger medicine, do you want me to come round and drop one off?”

The blonde felt her nerves relax a little, “That’d be amazing, thank you.”

About an hour or so later, Alex arrived at the apartment holding two small white carrier bags. Kara opened the door for her and welcomed her in with a hug with was warmly returned before the pair put the bags on the table.

“There’s some medicine in here and some of those gel patches things which go on your forehead, that should help a little.” She explained before handing the other bag to Kara, “I bought some soup as well from the place you both like, it just needs reheating. There's potstickers in there for you too because I’m guessing you haven’t eaten today.”

Kara’s eyes lit up at the mention potstickers, “Oh my god, Alex you’re amazing.” She excitedly blurted before going over to the microwave to reheat the soup, she could’ve used her heat vision but the last thing she wanted to do was make it to hot and burn her poor girlfriend.

As Kara waited for the soup, Alex went to go check up on Lena in the other room.

“Hey you,” Alex kept her voice soft, being mindful of the headache she probably had as she came to sit on the edge of the bed where she was laid, “Kara said you’re not feeling well, how are you feeling?”

“Shitty.”

Alex laughed at her stark response, “Yeah I can see that, I brought some stuff round for you, Kara’s just reheating the soup.” 

Lena managed a weak smile at Alex's presence. "Thanks Alex, I feel terrible, but Kara's taking good care of me, but she did ask me earlier if I felt ‘like your brain is going to drip out’ so I think this is a new leap for her.”

Alex shook her head as she tried to hide her smile, “Yeah that sounds like her. But as far I can see your brains haven’t leaked out all over the pillows, so I think you’ll be okay.” She said, ignoring Lena’s protests when she began cleaning up the mess of crumpled tissues and cough-drop wrappers littering the bed, “We just need to get your fever settled.” 

As if on cue, Kara came in with a small tray, Lena’s soup and the medicine sat neatly on it. “Alex brought some supplies.” She said, shooting her sister an appreciative look, “Can you sit up for me darling?” Kara asked as she came to sit beside Lena, settling the tray on her knees.

Lena mustered a small smile, touched by Kara's caring nature. She took a spoonful of soup and slowly sipped it, feeling the warmth spread through her body. "This is so good.” She murmured softly before sipping another spoonful, “Thanks you two, really, I’ve never been treated like this before.”

Alex gave her a reassuring smile. "Well, get used to it, because Kara and I are here for you now. We're family, and family takes care of each other."

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#supercorp #lena luthor x kara zor el #lena luthor x kara danvers #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #sickfic #fluff #whump #comfort #lena luthor #alex danvers #kara danvers #kara zor el #lena luthor sickfic #supergirl sickfic #supergirl fluff

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thatsgoodsquishy0 · 5 months

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Pairing: F!Reader x Ranger!Sam Coe Rating: M+ Bio: Set during Sam’s younger years working as a Freestar Ranger alongside his wife, Lillian Hart. Whether circumstance, or impossible luck, you're given a second chance at life, ultimately growing close to The Coes. You take a shine to Cora, but the family dynamic is something else entirely, albeit a little overwhelming, as you realize the toll Lillian's absence has taken on the family, but more specifically, her husband. Sam Coe is witty, charming, and ambitious; a man who knows what he wants and stops at nothing to reach his goals, but when his wife seems to prioritize her career over her family, it's hard not to notice the strain growing inside him. Your friendship may be just the support Sam needs, even if the temptations for something more linger, and when your past threatens your future, where will your morals lie? Will you end up back where you started? Chemistry is a cruel mistress

cross-posted to AO3 credit to @seracoe for the lovely Ranger Sam pic & @cafekitsune for the divider & @fangbangerghoul and @bearlytolerant for their unwavering support and feedback. thank you so much!! <3

i. BOUND

Your wrists were bound behind your back. Scratchy twine rubbed against your skin as you wiggled your hands. Alarms blared overhead. Your head rolled as your vision bobbed. Your knees were sore. You remembered the cruelty of your captor’s instructions to never sit or lay down; you could only kneel. Through the slits of your eyes you barely registered the urgency amongst the crew as they bounced around the cockpit, like bugs inside a terrarium.

“Fuck! Fuck! They’re headed towards —- !” a bloodied scream, cracks of gunfire, liquid gurgles over the intercom.

“They just wasted Fredericks!”

“How the fuck did they find us?!”

The rope chaffed against your wrists; a sick reminder that escape was futile.

You looked to your left. Your eyes shot wide and a deep, guttural scream left your throat as you met the endless stare of a dead woman. In refuge, you looked to your right. Another dead one greeted you just as forcibly. You flinched, averted your eyes, but in the darkness behind your eyelids the horror remained; splashes of red staining her hair, the ghostly whites of her eyes, mouth frozen in a permanent scream, the ugly circle in the middle of her forehead.

The kidnapper’s rampant states evolved to a frenzy as they darted their desperation towards you, like a missile locking onto a target. Shots continued past your range of sight, but you heard them; muffled and close.

One of the kidnapper's charged towards you, gun in hand.

Your mind in fragments, you tried your best to stand before they could reach you, but the kneeling rendering your knees useless. You fell forward, sharp pains stabbing your kneecaps as you fumbled up again. A woman delivered a shift kick to your stomach. You groaned and toppled back, your trapped wrists splashing against the puddle of wet blood.

“You did this, didn’t you?! ” the woman bellowed. “Who’d you send for?! Huh?!” She grabbed a fistful of your hair, locking her venomous glare against your quivering lips as you chased an answer on your tongue.

She yanked harder. “Answer me, you fucking rat!”

You opened your mouth and willed yourself to speak, but the words abandoned you. Tears pooled in your eyes.

Fed up with your sloppiness, the woman growled and released her grip. You stumbled back, falling on your side as you caught yourself from landing on your wrists, hair dipping into the red liquid. She cocked her gun. You squeezed your eyes shut. Sweat beaded atop your forehead, its saltiness mixing with the metallic stench of your hair as the tarnished concoction trickled down your face like runny hair dye. You felt the bloodied strands of hair gently brushed aside, making way for the cold barrel as it pushed into your forehead. You thought you heard the trigger click in anticipation. Your heartbeat convulsed inside your chest.

Then — a hatch opened. Two gun blasts. Bam! Bam!

The gun clattered against the floor, followed by a thud!

You popped open your eyes. The woman’s lifeless body lie face down beside your shoes, her brown rats nest a bloodied mess as crimson fluids leaked from her head across the floor. Your breathing blew out in bursts, in and out. Violent gulps of air choked your throat and stung your chest as you struggled frantically to break free from the restraints while hastily hauling yourself to a corner. Your stomach churned as you worked your wrists, the grip seeming to shrink tighter, down to the bone with every pull. The alarm sang like a sick cheer for your escape as you thrashed your wrists against the floor, screaming, wailing, fighting for absolution.

You curled into a fetal position, the pain from the kick resigning in your stomach as you felt your will crumble into hopelessness, like the last survivor on a sinking ship.

There was no direction for your gaze as you shut your eyes.

“Hey – hey -- stay with me now.”

Beneath your trembling, that anxious voice reached you, as if it were coaxing you along a bridge across treacherous waters.

Your mouth fell open, bottom lip shaking as any formation of a sentence betrayed you. You mustered a weak gasp as a man approached. His face was rugged, but determined as he peered down upon you, upon your sanguine soaked forehead. He sported a cowboy hat that seemed to provide a shadow against his face. His brows were thick and furrowed together as his hands attempted to reach the sides of your face. You suspended your gaze and tucked your body away from the room. Away from him.

“Ain’t gonna hurtcha!” he remarked, his voice silent amid the screaming buzzer. “Just wanna make sure y’ain’t bleedin’ a ton!”

Your throat was drier than a vase of forgotten flowers; tongue just as tied as the wrists behind your back — a spot the man captured quickly as he assessed your predicament. You heard the flick of a pocketknife and quickly looked up. A woman stepped into the room. She lowered her gun, but kept her finger above the trigger. A golden glint on her chest caught your eye. Your stomach dropped. Police?

Suddenly, you feared for your life again.

“Sam, don’t untie her just yet! We have no idea which side she’s on!”

“Pretty clear to me which side!”

“It could be a trap!” The woman stepped closer, her gaze fidgeting around the room as they hollered against the ringing. “This could be their ploy!”

“She’s banged up pretty bad, Lillian, and she can’t use her hands. Clearly, she couldn’t grab a weapon even if she tried!”

“I just don’t know about this, Sam!”

“You took a chance on a reckless kid once, and despite how you found him, things turned out pretty damn fine!”

The woman located the gun closest to you and immediately kicked it across the room. The man continued to hold his unsheathed pocket knife. The blade gave a serrated smile.

“Just trust me, alright?!”

She took a sharp breath, a sigh, then removed her finger from the trigger as she lowered the gun all the way. “Alright! Fine! We’ll take her back with us, get her all patched up, then ask her some questions! See what she knows!”

“Yes ma’am!” You caught a glimpse of a tiny smile swathed in success as the man leaned across your body and began to cut into the twine. Your hands trembled.

“Hold still!” he yelled, sawing through the restraints.

Your heart raced. What if the blade sliced through your skin by accident? You remained completely still, patient, until finally, the ropes snapped off.

You instinctively rubbed the twisted indentations embedded in your skin. Despite your hands being freed, you still couldn’t bring yourself to move, or speak. You gazed at your savior, the knife still in his grasp. He considered you with a tilt of his head, his eyes straight-lined with patience as he retracted the knife and slid it back into his pocket. The woman doubled-down on her stance, waiting for your next move. You exhaled, quick and shaky. The man offered his hand, but you didn’t take it, then he slowly crouched beside you, and urged you to stand up, his voice barely comprehensible over the squawking alarm.

You lifted yourself up, unintentionally pressing your hands into the blood of the dead. You withdrew your palms and swung your head around. Splatters of brain matter splashed against the wall and space-viewed windows. Your legs rocked from under you. Vehemently, your head shook in disbelief. You covered your hand atop your mouth and blinked away tears. Before you could look any further out of sheer morbidity, a pair of hands firmly gripped your shoulders and pulled your sight away. The man’s brows etched with concern. His stare linked to yours.

“Don’t look.”

In utter shock, both words swam through your eardrums in smooth, purposeful strokes. and you obeyed, keeping your eyes on him. Your muscles were weak, but appreciative, as you tried again to stand up. The man threw your arm carefully around his shoulder and the woman followed, a grunt passing from her lips as you adjusted to their rescue.

“Don’t make me regret this, okay?” She muttered close to your ear as you exited the cockpit hatch.

Blood rushed from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes. Each blare of the alarm mimicked the pounding in your head, like thousands of birds squawking as they pecked your ears raw.

You whined as you passed under one of the sirens.

The man yelled something, but his voice remained unintelligible, however, you thought maybe he was reassuring you. You lifted your head and peered to your right – the woman focused forward, aware of the next steps as you moved further down the ship. The man adjusted his hold on you, and you caught the faintest scent of cologne mixed with salt and blood. The pounding in your head grew louder, angrier, as they pulled you past their victims. The air smelt of tarnished pennies. The soles of your shoes dragged along the floor through puddles of red, leaving a evidence of a retreat behind as you exited the ship and entered another one.

You were ushered through a series of rooms, each one more scientific than the last, until your body was gently laid onto a cot. Exhaustion consumed you. You battled with your brain to keep your eyelids open as they slowly began to close; not for the sake of sleep, but for asylum against the ringing in your ears. You curled into a ball — the dead woman from the ship accompanying the darkness that began to swallow you.

“Get her a trauma pack.”

“Sam, we only got one left. Once we get to The Rock, Doc will look her over just fine.”

“Then, I’ll buy another one. Lillian, don’t fight me on this.”

There was a long pause, followed by the decrescendo of footsteps, then you heard the faint sound of an object being placed beside you. After a few minutes you heard voices, but the words were too distant to hear or understand, however the tones were defiant, combative. One of them raised their voice, but you couldn’t tell who. Then, they stopped.

Finally, as your body lulled against the rolling ship through space, your heartbeat steadied. Boots softly thudded into your room as you lay on your side, your face against the cool of the ship’s wall.

“I, um – I don’t know if you can hear me, but there's medicine next to ya, if you need it. I’ll be out on the nav-floor if you need anythin’.” He cleared his throat. “Alright then.”

You were grateful, even if tonight stole the words right out of your blood soaked mouth, you saved. Saved from death, from a fate worse than death, from something you’d never experience again, because you had an idea how you ended up here in the place.

Despite this, you tapped the inner recesses of your mind searching for something, anything, hinting whether or not this was a stroke of luck or if someone knew you would be on the spaceship and called for help.

Was this all part of Anton’s plan?

A sudden warmth encompassed you. You set those worries aside and reached your hands forward feeling a softness draped over you. The fabric blanketed your body as you allowed yourself this moment of vulnerability. Anton didn’t exist right now.

You’d use the trauma pack later. You were in need of a shower, too. You scrunched your face, the blossoms of your cheeks popping as you listened to the sickening way the dried blood cracked. Shudders flowed through your warming body. You pushed your appearance aside, craving the nurturing arms of slumber; at least for a little while.

You pulled the blanket closer until it covered the tip of your chin. You licked the dryness off your lips, careful not to lick off any blood that had slid its way down. You parted them, releasing a low breath, a safe breath, as the blanket melted into your body.

You weren’t sure if the man was still there, or if your voice would even reach him, but you knew the second those words left your parched throat, you’d never forget this day, or this man’s unabridged kindness.

In the dark of the spaceship, as the hum of the grave drive soothed your weary muscles and the pillow held your blood soaked head, you sleepily whispered, “Thank you.”

#I hope you enjoy it if you take a gander <3 #i'm having a lot of fun with this with this fic #starfield fanfiction #can you believe this started out as a silly little au #coemancer #sam coe x reader #reader x sam Coe

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hiddenpxpercuts · 1 month

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Since I am coming off hiatus and a lot of my muses need stuff, plus I dropped some folks, here is a new starter call for all my muses! Please react to your heart's content, I could use stuff for EVERY SINGLE MUSE!!!!

Kronk (Emperor's New Groove)

???

Vox (Hazbin Hotel)

???

Derek Hale (Teen Wolf)

Peter (mischiefxmuses)

Lydia (spellbcok)

Jake Wheeler (Chucky)

???

Mickey Milkovich (Shameless)

???

Reggie Peters (JATP)

Kiara (wvsteria)

Ivan Carvalho (Elite)

???

Prince Henry (RWRB)

Max (mischiefxmuses)

Riley Matthews (GMW)

Isabel (wvsteria)

Edwina Sharma (Bridgerton)

???

Zed Necrodopolis (ZOMBIES)

Astarion (coreofgold)

Veronica Fisher (Shameless)

???

Jesse St. James (Glee)

???

Beth Corcoran (Glee)

???

Olaf (Disney)

Gir (coreofgold)

10th Doctor (Doctor Who)

???

Luca (Luca)

???

Joel Miller (TLOU)

Daryl Dixon (coreofgold)

Gretchen Wieners (Mean Girls)

Blair (spellbcok)

Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel)

Stolas (coreofgold)

Bee (mischiefxmuses)

Katherine Pierce (TVD)

Enzo (wvsteria)

Blaine Anderson (Glee)

???

Maria Vasquez (West Side Story)

???

Gabriel Boutin (Half Bad)

???

Chishiya Shuntaro (Alice in Borderland)

???

Lillian Deville (Rugrats)

???

Mercutio Alice (Romeo and Juliet)

???

Bob Belcher (Bob’s Burgers)

Beel (coreofgold)

Lorelai (spellbcok)

Enid Sinclair (Wednesday)

Sidney (wvsteria)

Sabrina (spellbcok)

Ambrose Spellman (CAOS)

???

Lily Tucker-Pritchett (Modern Family)

Dohee (spellbcok)

Max Mayfield (Stranger Things)

???

T.J Kippen (Andi Mack)

???

Harry Hook (Descendants)

Gil (coreofgold)

Marco Del Rossi (Degrassi)

???

Max Baker (Ginny and Georgia)

???

Matthew Murdock (Marvel)

Peter Parker (wvsteria)

Dean Winchester (Supernatural)

Ruyi (spellbcok)

Emily Fitch (Skins UK)

???

Nick Nelson (Heartstopper)

???

Simon Spier (Love, Simon)

???

Evan Buckley (911)

???

T.K Strand (911 Lone Star)

???

Richie Tozier (IT)

???

Alexander Lightwood (Shadowhunters)

Markl (coreofgold)

#hw: starter #hw: startercall #britt's starter call: 4

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jellolegos · 6 months

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Oh say more about Rojascorp queen.......

I am going to try and articulate my feelings on Rojascorp in a way that is coherent and intelligent (honestly those words have never been used to describe my writing in my entire life) BUT here goes.

What I think I really love about Rojascorp is the tension derived from the dynamic of "I love you, I hate you, I will always be a part of you" and the way that those phrases act in a fluid state throughout the course of their decades long relationship.

I think that dynamic is very much heightened by the fact that the bond between Lena and Andrea occurs in their teenage and early adulthood. It feels like a rite of passage as a queer woman to have a homoerotic friendship with someone in your teenage years that simultaneously destroys you and shapes the way you view all of your future relationships. If I can push a little further and consider the topography of Lena's life, Andrea enters at a period where she has first lost her mother but not yet had her relationship with Lex distorted by his evildoing. This means that she would (if we are to just engage with them hypothetically as romantic partners/girlfriends/whatever), likely represent a first heartbreak and first true betrayal for Lena. There is something so uniquely tactile with the combination of first love and first heartbreak, especially for a character like Lena and I find it totally fascinating! Much the same could be said about Rhaenicent.

I also think a parallel that you could draw between Rhaenicent and Rojascorp is the way that class and rank could act as further strains on a budding romantic relationship (beyond just the boilerplate misogyny and homophobia). For Alicent and Rhaenyra the restriction is very clear, they are royals who need heirs. To engage in a relationship with another woman would disrupt the social fabric in a way so devastating that they could never recover. The way these women contend with this fate is one of the main strands of the show. Rhaenyra is able to find companionship with a man and Alicent, unable to do so in a similar capacity, retreats further into her religious zealotry and role as a mother (I LOVE show!alicent, please don't get me wrong, but I think it's hard to deny the way that her religion offers a clear escape and in many ways a form of self-punishment -- I could go on and on about Rhaenicent, I love them. BUT I don't think that is what you were after)

Where this gets a little more tricky to see clearly, in part because of the CW's awful writing and in part because of the very American romanticized ideal of a self-made millionaire/billionaire, is with Lena. If we are to believe that Lena is the sole inheritor of an aristocratic legacy as a billionaire, that imposes an entirely different set of social constraints on who she could involve herself with romantically. The CW (in my opinion) does a very bad job of portraying Lena as a wealthy person (her clothes, her offices, just the general ways she lives her life are so horribly distorted from the true level of wealth she is meant to have). But if we are to even bring a fraction of the physics that apply to the normal billionaire class, you again encounter the same issue: you need an heir. Just for reference, if you look at a list of the top 10 wealthiest women, all of them (sans the Waltons for hopefully pretty obvious reasons) have children who could act as dynastic inheritors. This would further complicate the potential for a romantic relationship with a woman. Although Andrea is likely of the same class (we get hints of it when we see her with her dad and obviously she's at the same Andover/Exeter/Trinity-coded boarding school), she is a woman which I would argue imposes the exact same restrictions as it does on Rhaenyra/Alicent, especially if we are going to dive into the WASP vibes that I think are implied with Lillian/just the American aristocratic class in general. This would heighten the taboo nature of the relationship, and make the realization of the weight of queerness all the more impactful (maybe I'm just too far into my reread of Oranges forgive me if this is not making any sense).

I think these two layers of first love/heartbreak and first bite of (for lack of more eloquent wording) the forbidden fruit, are so compelling and would be so informative about Lena as a character if they were applied. Her cynicism and general guardedness would have been seeds sewn not only by her mother's death but by the subsequent tragedies and betrayals she felt with her first romantic partner. Her overreaction and decision to create a tool that would force people to tell the truth, and only the truth, would hold so much more weight if paired with a B-plot that introduced her early heartbreak and parallels to Kara's betrayal. I am a horrible fiction writer, but if I were ever to write a character study of Lena in the form of a ficlet, Andrea would have to be a part of it purely as there is just so much to explore with her as a character alone and in Lena's early adulthood.

(One last thing then I will shut up I promise haha)

In a meta sense, I think what becomes clear to me is that Andrea seems to demonstrate how not canonizing supercorp was just as much about the "corp" as it was about the "super". I think I was always under the impression that the CW kept from canonizing supercorp as it would "endanger" (sorry, I hope you get my point here) their titular character. The risk to the network was in making their main character queer, not in making Lena queer. I think Andrea really offered them an easy out in this regard. Supercorp was well established as possible among the fans, and Lena had broken up with James for a number of episodes. Inserting a new romantic pairing would be easy and introducing Andrea as a former fling would be an easy way to make Lena queer (and hopefully appease fans [I know, I know. But let's think like a showrunner here]) but still make her unavailable for pairing with Kara. Andrea's lover could have easily been swapped with a brother, paralleling Lena's own fractured relationship with Lex. Lena would do anything for Lex, just as Andrea would do anything for her brother including betraying her girlhood fling. I guess in that sense it felt like such a natural way to simultaneously please the network and the fans who (obviously, rightfully) were frustrated at the overall romantic coding of two ostensibly straight women. Alex or Sam could have also presented viable options, but I think neither fit as smoothly into the position of "Lena's-fling-turned-ex-turned-fling-and-guess-what-she's-now-evil". I was really peripherally tuned into the show/drama pre-2020 so obviously I could be missing something but I guess that felt like a very obvious missed opportunity. The only thing I can really conclude is that they valued Lena not being queer just as much as Kara not being queer (maybe two queer female couples was too much? I'm not sure).

TLDR: I love supercorp with my whole heart AND I think Rojascorp is an incredible pairing and dynamic to explore. I think they have a lot of fanon parallels to Alicent and Rhaenyra (I could go on and on about Rhaenicent/HotD/ASOIAF but I think this is too long of an answer already, haha). There are a few Rojascorp fics/fic writers that I cling to with my entire heart and soul, I love you guys <3

#ramble #misc #asks

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aloneinthehellfire · 1 year

Text

Chapter 14: Alone

Season One | Season Two | Season Three | Season Four

Raining Hellfire: Season Four

Word Count: 4611 words

Warnings: swearing, mentions of dead bodies, illusions to drowning, blood, violence, death, just a lot of sad things

[A/N: this one is a lot and honestly i need to stop creating characters that die all the time]

Alone

“Y/n! Y/nnnnnn!”

You groan, removing the arm that had been shielding your eyes and looking to the girl led down beside you.

“Whaaaaat?” You mimic and she lets out a giggle.

“I’m bored.” She states so matter-of-factly that you were ready to hit her.

“So you wake me up for that?” You place your arm back in place only for her to grab it.

It turned into a small quarrel, grabbing each others arms and wrestling until she was named the victor.

“Okay, okay, jeez.” You laugh, batting her hand away, “We’ll go to the beach or something.”

“Actually…” She raises her eyebrows and you groan, shaking your head.

“No, please, no. I hate that game, I don’t even understand-”

The board is thumped down in front of you and you let out a sigh.

“I should never have gotten you that for your birthday.” You complain, crossing your arms.

“You only did this to yourself.” She grinned as she began setting up the game, eyes lit with excitement.

You smile at her, heart pounding. She was your best friend. You’d do anything for her.

“No.”

You whisper into the darkness, staring down at the body.

Steve had disappeared, leaving you stood by yourself as guilt poured into your mind.

You take a step closer, tears streaming down your face. This couldn’t be happening. You thought Nancy had died, and now you were face to face with your past.

Leaning over her, you look at her features and your breath hitches. You were right. It was Lillian.

Suddenly, her eyes snap open and you let out a gasp, jumping back and stumbling over an obstacle. You crashed to the floor, hitting it hard and losing air.

“Shit.” You breathe, slowly sitting to take deep breaths.

As you looked around, you were no longer in the darkened and flipped version that was Eddie’s trailer.

It was pitch black, nothing you could see for miles. Then, there’s a glint of red behind you, casting onto the back of your hand as you lifted it, examining further. Holding your breath, you turn around, a scream caught in your throat.

You were stood staring at the same place that haunted your nightmares. The same place you lost everything. The same place Lillian…

“Don’t you remember?”

The voice pulls you away from the reddened, vine covered pool, causing you to turn and almost cry on the spot.

Lillian stood in front of you, dressed the same way she looked at your birthday party. Her jet-black hair was loose around her shoulders, strands pulled into braids at the back of her head to show off her pretty features. Her dark brown eyes were wide, coated with mascara as her punctuated lips were curved into a small smile. A smile you never thought you’d see again.

“Lillian?” You whisper out, frozen in place. She simply tilted her head, scrunching her nose at you. Like she always did when you were being silly.

“Obviously.” She giggles, stepping closer. “Who else would I be?”

Your eyes widen. Remember why you are here. Remember.

“Vecna.” You state and this time, she frowns.

“Are you not happy to see me?” Lillian’s voice lowers and she stalks towards you now, causing you to back up with small steps. “I would have thought that you’d feel guilty, Y/n Mayfield.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Your voice cracks and a tear rolls down Lillian’s cheek, your chest tightening with every emotion she shed.

“Didn’t you?” She challenges.

You feel the heel of your shoe reaching the side of the pool and you stop. Lillian halts as soon as she is stood an inch apart from you.

“It was an accident.” You say quietly and she lets out a breathy laugh.

“Accident.” She clicks her jaw, eyes drifting to the water behind you. “Accident. Yeah, that’s what it was.”

“You should be alive.” You state and she slowly turns back to look at you. “It was my fault. I know that. And I’ve thought about that night every single day for the last five years. If I could… if I could take it all back… I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“Would you?”

“Yes!” You yell with a choked sob, grabbing onto her shoulders. She felt cold under your touch. “I wouldn’t have said those things to you! I would have listened! I- I would never have drank or fought with you. I would never have been that close to the water-”

“Right.” Lillian says quietly, her eyes darker than usual. “Because I just… fell. Right? That’s the story you keep telling yourself?”

“… what?” You shake your head, lowering your hands back to your sides and you watched as she suddenly brought her hand to your cheek.

“I can’t explain it.” She lowers her head before looking up at you through her eyebrows, a stomach-churning smirk on her face. “Let me show you instead.”

Her hand travels down to your chest and she pushes you, hard.

With a scream, you fall back into the pool, water rushing in all around you as pockets of air bubble from your mouth. It became darker and darker until you were able to take one painful breath.

Gasping, you sit up, head spinning out of control. You can’t focus on one thing; there are too many blurry objects in your vision to understand where you are. Until…

“Y/n?”

You turn your head, eyes adjusting to the boy stood in front of you with a crooked smile and your heart clenched at the sight.

“Billy?” You slowly stand, eyes never leaving his in fear of really looking around. You just couldn’t believe you were seeing Billy again, regardless of if it was a memory.

His outfit was from the same night, too, his hair a little shorter but just as scruffy as it always has been. And the red solo cup in his hand had a lipstick print around the edge. Your lipstick.

You didn’t need to look around to know exactly where you were. From the blast of music echoing around crowds of people that never really knew you, the stench of alcohol polluting the air. This time, there were no vines. In fact, everything was precisely how it looked on your 14th birthday.

“I’m gonna grab another drink.” He says lowly before walking away and leaving you there, alone.

“I think it’s time.”

You turn around to see Lillian stood in front of you once again, expressionless. You take a breath and frown as she slowly raises her arm and points to her left. Hesitantly, you look where she wants you to and you very nearly stop breathing.

She was pointing at you and another version of Lillian in the very same kitchen you had been six years ago. Through the window, you took in the dress you had worn, the way your eyes were already tiring. And you were trying to talk to her, only ever getting a shrug or a scowl.

You didn’t know how you got closer to the scene, but suddenly you were inside the building, stood just in the doorway and watching your life replay in front of your very eyes.

A tear drops down and you try to escape. But something keeps you frozen, unable to look anywhere but where Vecna was forcing you to see.

But it wasn’t as if you needed the reminder. You thought about this conversation all the time.

“I only came here because my parents forced me.” Lillian says, her back to you as she contemplated the snack table.

“Don’t say that.” You step forward, praying that she would face you. But she remained stubborn, never throwing a glance behind her.

“Just… go have fun with your boyfriend.” She says a little sourly and you shake your head.

“He’s not-”

“Bullshit.” She spits and she finally spins around to look at you. Your breath hitches once you see the hints of mascara that had ran down her face. Those tears were because of you. “You keep claiming that you and Billy are just friends but let’s be real, friends don’t act that way around eachother.”

“Look, Lil.” You risk another step and she avoided your eyes. “Billy and I just… we got confused. I-I think our feelings got mixed up and-”

“So break up with him.” She challenges and you catch your breath, staying silent.. “See? You act like you aren’t dating but look at you, Y/n. You came here with him! You guys have kissed and… god, I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Why do you care so much?” You gain some kind of confidence now, sick and tired of how your supposed ‘best friend’ was treating you. “Because you keep acting like me being with him is breaking some sort of trust between us. In all honesty, Lil, I was just fine with Billy being a close friend.”

“Then why?” She was crying now, eyes red with a smudged black outline.

“Why?” You look exasperated, a cold laugh leaving your lips. “You were the one who told me to go on a date with him!”

“Because I wanted-” She stops herself, swallowing whatever words she wanted to say. But you weren’t done with the conversation.

“Because what? Huh?” Your heart was beating faster and faster.

“I wanted you to say no.” Lillian whispers out and you stay in stunned silence. She shakes her head at you, anger finally taking a hold. “I don’t know why you keep acting like it’s a surprise. It’s like you just miraculously forgot everything that happened over the summer.”

Summer. Part of you had buried those memories long ago.

“I…” You search for the words to say, but you’re speechless. You didn’t expect it to go this far.

Lillian lets out a sad laugh. “Admit it, Y/n. Just say it out loud.”

You stay silent, avoiding her eyes as tears roll down.

“You. Like. Gir-”

“Stop!” You yell and she looks startled, wide eyes staring at you. “Whatever happened… between us… it was a mistake. I’m not- I don’t-”

You let out a frustrated sigh. If you were so sure of yourself, why was your heart breaking at your own words?

“One day, Y/n Mayfield,” She grabs her filled cup, walking to the exit but stopping by your side, eyes never meeting yours. “You are going to realise exactly who you are. You’ll… you’ll finally see the version of yourself that I see. That I love. And it’ll be too late.”

She walks away before you have a single second to understand what she meant.

“You lied to me.”

You sniffle the tears that had fallen, eyes tearing away from the sight of you stood alone in the kitchen and looking back to where Lillian waited for a reply.

Except, this time, it wasn’t Lillian at all.

“You lied to her, Y/n”

Vecna stared back at you with milky eyes, head arched down to meet your height. Your blood froze over as he shifts his red body towards you, slow and steady.

“She loved you” He growls and your heart shatters a million times more. “And you betrayed her”

“It was an accident.” You whisper out now and he shakes his head.

“You deserve to know the truth” Vecna was stood face to face with you now, arm slowly raising to hold his bony claws above your face. “Let me show you what you have forgotten”

Before a whimper could leave your mouth, you felt your head whip back, eyes slamming shut as you were somehow transported into your memories, back to that night.

Tears streamed down your face regardless, flutters of broken images burning your brain until you knew the truth. Until he showed you exactly what you did.

You should have never tried to help Nancy.

7th November 1979

“What do you want, Y/n?” Your best friend sounded fed up already, taking a sip from her cup.

“I just wanted to say sorry.” You said, eyeing her cup. She never drank.

“Well I don’t want an apology.” Her words were slurred and she spilt some of her cup.

“Woah, what are you drinking?”

“Whatever the hell I want.”

“Maybe you should slow down, you haven’t drank before.”

“Why? Because I’m a prude for not banging my abusive boyfriend when I’m only 14, huh?” Her words stung your heart, tears threatening to spill.

“What the fuck?” Your voice quivered and she just laughed.

“You act like it’s all about you, Y/n. Try caring about someone else for once in your miserable life.”

And with that she walked to the other side of the pool, stumbling along the way as you filled up your own cup and drank the feelings down like your life depended on it.

“Woah, there.” Billy laughs, stopping as you grab a third drink.

“I thought you wanted me to drink?” You snap and his eyebrows raise, hands held in surrender.

“I just wanted you to have fun, not… that.” He says and you take a deep breath.

“Right.” You grit your teeth, lowering the cup before letting out a much-needed sigh. “I’m good.”

“Hm.” He pulls a face, taking a sip from his own drink, “So this has nothing to do with why Lillian’s been giving me evil eyes the whole night?”

You whip your head up, following his gaze across the pool and, sure enough, Lillian stood there with a sour look on her face. Once she caught your eyes, she simply rolled her own and turned her back on you.

“Ooh.” Billy laughs, cup to his mouth, “That’s cold.”

You watch as she almost stumbles back into the pool, someone cheering beside her as she manages to balance herself.

“I’ll be right back.” You say, placing your cup down on the table before striding over to Lillian, heart thumping in your head with each step.

You felt strange. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the guilt you felt, but it was bubbling away inside of you.

When you finally reach her, she’s dipping her cup into the punch bowl and draining it within a matter of seconds. She barely registers you’re there until you finally speak.

“Lillian, please stop. You’ve had enough, okay?” You beg your best friend as she chugs down another drink. Even you had lost count of how many she’s had.

“Fuck off. You don’t own me.” She spat, scooping up more liquid from the punch bowl with her cup.

“I’m serious!” You grab at the drink pulling it away from her. She turned to you and practically growled.

“Why?! Why are you ruining my fun? Shouldn’t you be over there fucking your boyfriend or something?” She yelled and the party went quiet. The music still blared but the conversations surrounding you had halted.

“Lil-”

“No. No, you…” She stumbled as she took a step towards you and you managed to catch her before she pushed you away. “You are a fucking mess, Y/n Mayfield.”

“What are you talking about?” You raised your voice, annoyed at your best friend’s allegations.

“You can’t even decide.” She mumbled so that only you could hear. You understood what she was saying. The biggest decision in your life had come down to two things. And you weren’t ready to let either go.

Billy was your childhood sweetheart, and always will be. Even if everything had taken a wrong turn in your relationship, you knew he was just acting out because of his mom. He had stood by you through worse, and you weren’t going to let him down. You loved him.

But… you didn’t love him the way you thought you did. You knew what love felt like, you had experienced it for the first time this summer. You just weren’t ready to admit it. Especially since the one you fell for was currently yelling at you in the middle of a crowd.

“You are a fraud, Y/n Mayfield.” She shouted again, wobbling as she tried to stand as still as she could. “A. Fucking. Fraud.”

“Can we talk about this inside?” You ask, gently reaching out to grab her hand.

“No! No! No!” She practically screamed, catching anyone’s and everyone’s attention. “The people should know who you really are!”

“Lillian.” You warned, lowering the arm that still held the red solo cup. She caught sight of the drink, licking her lips.

“She’s been lying to you folks!” She span around sloppily, announcing her words to the gathering people. “The birthday girl has been harbouring…” She slurred her words, catching herself, “She’s been keeping a deep… dark… secret.”

“Don’t do this.” You glared at her. You’d never seen this side to her in your whole life. Your anger was clouding your judgement now, not seeing how justifiable her actions are.

“Then give me back my drink.” She tilted her head to you, moving closer and extending her arm.

“No.” You stayed stubborn, holding the cup behind you.

“Give it to me!”

She ran at you with both her arms outstretched, clawing at your shoulder to turn you. You screamed in response, struggling against her attack. In the chaos, Lillian’s fingers caught your hair, pulling as hard as she could. You dropped the cup from the sudden surge of pain to your head, trying to release yourself from her grasp. She only pulled harder. So you did the only thing you could.

You didn’t remember doing it.

You pushed her.

And she fell.

Straight into the pool.

Except, you didn’t push her

It was never an accident

In the chaos, Lillian’s fingers caught your hair, pulling as hard as she could. You dropped the cup from the sudden surge of pain to your head, trying to release yourself from her grasp. She only pulled harder.

Something raged inside of you, your focus blurring black. Every adoring thought you had of your best friend was ripped out of your brain, replaced only with the intent to stop her.

It had felt like you were possessed.

You barely noticed the blackening veins on the back of your hand as you reached to the table and grabbed a thick bottle of vodka.

Lillian’s drunken eyes went wide as you swung at her, her skull no match for the strength you surged forward with.

The bottle smashed into her head, breaking skin and bone, and all you saw was the red streaking out of her through your dark spotlight.

You felt nothing as her eyes fluttered shut, body dropping back and splashing into the pool, her head marking the side on the way down, painted with splatters of crimson death.

You felt nothing until that fury inside of you dissipated, your eyes returning to their natural state as your mind blurred all of the events before.

It took a few seconds for you to remember how you were here, to even recognise where you were.

You looked down, your drink now forgotten on the floor beside you. People were screaming, but no one moved.

You kept your focus on the figure in the pool now floating. The ceramic side to a once blue pool now covered in crimson red blood.

“What did you do?”

“Oh my god, Y/n!”

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

“Your power has only ever caused death”

You pant, knelt to the ground over the swimming pool, Lillian’s body now floating in the pool, everything turning red.

All this time, you had been believing a lie. You thought it was an accident. And you were wrong.

All those people, the town who never stopped harassing your family until you disappeared; you were a murderer.

You were a murderer.

And it was because of the black dust. Its possession had been too strong, and you had been too weak to fight it. It was all Vecna was ever trying to tell you, trying to get you to see. And he was right; you couldn’t handle the responsibility of the Mind Flayer.

“I can only end this for you if you submit” Vecna claims, stood above you and drawing your eyes away from the scarlet water.

“Why?” You finally say, tears rushing down and blurring your vision, “Why do you want this so much?”

“Ever since you arrived in Hawkins, I’ve felt the power you held” He finally explains and you slowly rise from the ground, standing with a numb feeling in your chest. “I just didn’t know how much of that power you had until you stopped the dust from possessing you”

The dust spilled from the doors, forming in the air above you. You tried to run as far as you could across the field in the sudden darkness. But you felt something pull at you, forcing you to stop.

You stood a few feet from the middle of the field, staring up at the dust as it circles you.

“Y/n”

You start to sob, covering your ears.

“It’s time”

Tears streamed down your face as a section of the dust pulled in front of you. It began creeping towards you, snaking up your leg and towards your mouth.

It pulled back for a moment, letting you see what was about to happen. The closer it got, the colder you felt. You couldn’t move. All you could do was scream.

Black dust hovered over your mouth and you scream at it one last time.

“No!”

It stopped.

You stare at it in confusion with tear stained cheeks. The dust unwrapped itself from you, returning to the shape in the air. You slowly started to feel control over your movement, wiggling your fingers one at a time. Why did it stop?

“Then why didn’t you just kill me?” You challenge, watching as he takes a step forward.

“I tried” He growls, tilting his head. “I sent everything I had to ensure you were taken out of the game”

You frown. All those years, all the visions, nightmares, voices.

“Don’t you see, Y/n?”

The Demogorgon appearing wherever you had been. The demodog that never attacked you.

“I could never stop you”

The Mind Flayer, one you defeated despite all odds. Billy.

“Until now”

Vecna was barely a breath away now, staring down at you with a cruel smirk on his face. You stare down at the bloodied vodka bottle in your hand.

“If I give up…” You begin, barely choking down tears, “You let my friends go unharmed.”

“I cannot promise their safety”

“You leave my sister alone!” You practically yell at him and he simply tilts his head.

“All I need is one more”

His cryptic words anger something inside of you and, to his surprise, you lash out at him.

You manage to make contact, hitting him with the bottle as hard as you can and, strangely enough, it hurts him.

Even in this mind world, he can still feel pain.

Before you can do anything else, his arm extends and you are thrown backwards, smashing through glass and landing on the ground with a heavy thump.

“Shit.” You breathe, trying to move but finding your whole body ached.

“Give up”

You manage to raise your head to see him staring down at you with milky white eyes, claws outstretched.

Staring up at him, the nightmare that had haunted your mind for four years of your life, any hope you had left for yourself was gone.

You were the reason your friends are in danger.

You did this.

Maybe, just maybe, this would need to be the end.

“Fine.” You whisper out and you swore you could see a smile creep onto his burned lips.

“You don’t need to suffer anymore”

Closed eyes, you feel yourself drifting away. Your soul, your life, was being pulled from you. And, as much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t care. If this was how it ended for you, you prayed the others would understand.

Y/N!!!

You open your eyes.

Blinking, you saw nothing but darkness around you, like standing in the middle of a void.

As you take a step forward, you hear a small pat beneath your foot and you noticed the ripple effect across the ground. Something like water.

When the confusion was beginning to set in, a voice echoes around you and your heart beats faster. But for once, it wasn’t out of fear.

“y/n… can... hear me?…”

You follow the direction of the voice, slowly coming into view of a blurred image. People.

Your body is stood in the middle of the room, light blaring down at you from the gate above your head. Unlike the others that have been cursed, your eyes aren’t rolled back. Instead, they are completely black, eyelids fluttering.

And, in front of you, was the boy you never stopped loving.

Eddie.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!!!” He yelled while fumbling with something in his hand.

You take a few steps closer, the object forming into a Walkman, one you had dropped way back after being dragged through the gate. Someone must have picked it up.

He’s desperately trying to put the headphones on you with shaky hands and you thought you never saw him look more scared.

It wasn’t the look of horror, not like how he reacted to Chrissy. This time, it was pure fear. Fear of loss.

And you were doing that to him.

“Where are you, Y/n?” Vecna’s voice boomed out and you spin around, a figure slowly forming out of dust not far from you. Red.

It was like this was one last test, one last chance to escape. And you had no idea if you should take it.

I hear the ticking of the clock...

You turn back, eyes wide as you see Eddie has successfully played the tape, his hands grasping onto yours. The song, the one you hadn’t heard in years.

I’m lying here, the room’s pitch dark...

Not since you lost it after… letting Eddie borrow your Walkman all those years ago.

Tears pooled in your eyes with gratitude that, after all this time, he kept it.

I wonder where you are tonight...

No answer on the telephone...

“Y/n” His deep voice is clear as day and when you glance back over your shoulder, milky white eyes stare back at you.

And the night goes by so very slow...

“Y/n, please!”

Oh, I hope that it won’t end, though...

“Stay here with me”

“Come back to me.”

...alone.

As you stare back at Eddie’s tear stained cheeks, his shaking hands, you make your decision.

And without so much as a second thought, you run.

I always fared well on my own...

I never really cared until I met you...

Out the corner of your eye, you see Vecna’s arm raise and you’re being pulled back, towards him, and away from Eddie.

And now it chills me to the bone...

You scream, fighting against his power with all your might.

How do I get you alone?...

You’re so close, reaching out to Eddie with a cry.

“This is what you deserve” Vecna growls, stepping towards you as you are held back, “Let this finally end”

You stop fighting, slumping your shoulders. Clearly content with this decision, his control falters slightly and you raise your head.

“I…” You start before a scowl creeps onto your face, “I couldn’t agree more.”

You throw your hand out, dust forming from your fingers and shooting towards his face. In defence, he brings his arm to shield his eyes and you take the opportunity to continue running, feet pounding against the wet floor.

You hear a yell of fury before your fingertips brush your paralysed body.

Then, everything flashes white.

Chapter 15: Four Chimes ->

taglist: @gnnnne / @beepisbeep / @paintballkid711 / @eddiesbirdie / @livasaurasrex / @darktimelegends / @jackierose902109 / @mvrylee / @chervbs / @eternallyvenus / @nervouscatsuit / @f1nn-wolfhard / @hereiamhereigo / @ladybug0095 / @fangirling-4-ever / @astrolockley / @mothmanatemycat / @sheisjoeschateau / @champagnejoker / @umidktbh / @fallinginlovewithqueue / @ilovetaylorswift132006 / @live-the-fangirl-life / @sadbitchfangirl / @cherrymedicine13 /

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hopefulfuturenovelauthor · 1 year

Text

Charlie Boy

Stanley Barber x reader gn

song- Charlie Boy by the Lumineers

about 1.2 k words

warnings: language, mentions of Stanley’s father, Stanley’s bruised eye, I can’t think of anything else but if I need to add something let me know.

“Don’t go to war, firstborn in ‘44,” you walked around the room, collecting a mound of blankets from the couch.

“And Kennedy made him believe, we could do much more,” the soft fabrics clung to your arms, still a little wet from the pouring rain. Running around the block to get here without an umbrella had not been your brightest idea. But that didn’t stop you anyway.

“Lillian, don’t hang your head, love should make you feel good,” you let the blankets fall from your arms at the foot of the bed. You grabbed the fluffiest from the pile and carefully laid it over the boy lying on his side.

“In uniform, you raised a man, who volunteered to stand,” you gently patted his head of curls, taking your other arm’s sleeve to wipe away stray tears.

“Ohohoh, ohoh, ohoh, 0hohoh, ohoh, ohoh,” he laid there still unmoving as sadness pooled in his eyes and fell down his cheeks. You stepped away only slightly to hear him whine as you left to turn off the lamp a little ways away from his bed.

“Play the bugle, play the taps, Make your mothers proud,” you returned back to his side as you softly brushed at his tears, painfully avoiding his bruised cheek and eye. Stanley’s hands grabbed yours as he tried to pull you down beside him.

“Sweetheart, I’m soaked. I’m just going to get you wet,” you said.

“I don’t care,” Stan said raggedly, “just hold me while you sing.”

“Okay,” you whispered before crawling into bed beside him, placing a second blanket over the both of you, the one he already had separating you so he would stay dry.

“Raise your riffles to the sky, boys, fire that volley loud,” you stroked his head as faced away from you.

“News was bad on Upland Ave, Metuchen mourn our loss,” you sang out to the quiet of the room. Stanley’s sniffling had become fainter.

“Sons, rebelled, while fathers yelled, and mothers clutched the cross,” your arms slowly wrapped around the poor boy beside you, comforting him the best you could.

“Ohohoh, ohoh, ohoh, ohohoh, ohoh,ohoh,” you hummed out as Stan bundled into the blankets you gave him, swadling himself in the warmth that them and you provided.

“Play the bugle, play the taps, make your fathers proud,” you voice was starting to fade away and Stanley’s breathing evened out.

“Raise your riffles to the sky, boy, fire that volley loud,” you finished the song, leaving a silence that was neither comfortable or uncomfortable. Regardless of the suffocating feeling, you felt left trapped in the house that was both a blessing and a curse. You rested your head against his. The strands of curls brushed your face as you tried to relax.

“I like when you sing,” he whispered.

“I like when you sing too,” you responded neutrally, uncertain of how far this conversation would go.

“It’s better when you sing,” Stanley said, “you only sing when I need you or when you think no one is listening. It makes you sound like an angel.”

“How come?” you asked.

“Because you always come when I need you and the way you can calm me down so easily makes it all seem… etherial.”

“That’s some high praise,” you responded against his curls.

“It’s true,” he replied back. You sat in silence for a few moments before Stanley broke it again. “How do I sound to you when I sing?” curiosity filled his voice.

“Like a rat choking on pesticide,” you said monotonously, as your emotions ran wild in the madness of your head.

“I’m being serious,” Stan said through a giggle, still not choosing to turn and face you.

“You sound normal,” Stan shifted against you antsily, expectantly, as if he wanted to hear something as meaningful as he had said to you. “You sound like yourself. You can hear your personality each time you belt out a chorus, or forget a word, or your voice breaks. All I hear is you, and it’s wonderful. Because your my favorite thing to listen to, even if at times you do sound like a rat choking on pesticides.”

Stanley stayed quiet. Time passed and in your head you could hear the ticking of the clock in your brain, the countdown until one of you broke the silence or fell asleep.

“If I wasn’t so emotionally tapped, I’d confess my undying love for you.”

“If you weren’t so emotionally tapped, I would have already spun you around to face me,” you answered back.

Stanley wiggled out of your grasp as he shifted about. After a few attempts he finally flipped over with what would have been minimum effort if he had succeeded the first time. Glossy eyes stared at yours, one surrounded by the purple bruise. His smile was contagious most days, but not this one, not while he was hurt.

“I know you turned, but you are still absolutely drained after today,” you said, scooting back to get a better look at him.

“Yeah, but I wanted to see you too. You're comfy and cozy and everything, but sometimes seeing is believing even when you ground me.”

“I will take comfy and cozy as a compliment,” you stated.

“You should. You smell nice. It makes it very easy to get all warm and toasty when the person smothering you smells like a freshly baked Christmas cookie.”

“That was…,” the words weren’t coming to your mouth right away. “Random. Very fucking random, but okay. You smell like weed and hormones so, you know at least I don’t smell like that.”

“God, I wish I smelled like you. However, it gets very difficult to be around you when I’m high. I get the munchies and sadly I can’t chew on you like I could a cookie.”

“Okay,” you said trying to reel the conversation back in, “I think that is enough talk tonight. You need rest, Stan. I need rest. We both need some time to just fucking be without the whole god damn world breathing down our necks. So just try and get some shut eye for me, will ya?”

Stanley’s thin lipped and tired smile was thrown your way as he moved forward to rest his head just below your neck. His untamed curls brushed against your chin as he snuggled into you, arms wrapping around your side as he relaxed.

Without much thought, you placed a soft kiss on top of his head and returned the embrace. Your arms drifted from under his to wrap up and around his back. Your fingers made small circles on his shoulders as he hummed with his eyes closed.

“I love you so fucking much,” he said.

“I love you too, Stan.”

“So fucking much?”

“So fucking much, and much much more.”

You both fell asleep shortly after. The warm smell of cookies filling Stan’s senses as the refreshing smell of his citrus shampoo wafted from his hair and into your heart. A blossoming comfort engulfed you both in the sweet smells of an inviting winter and a revivifying spring.

#Stanley Barber #stanley barber imagine #stanley barber x reader #ianowt #i am not okay with this #still upset #I need more #why!!!!!!#help 😢#wyatt oleff #i need this show back

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inkedroplets · 2 months

Note

What's this about a lena/peggy fic? PEGGY CARTER?!?!?

I kind of forgot I had this ask and then I thought, oh I'll link the snippet I posted a while back and because it's tumblr I can't find it so I'll post another one but yes, I have a very confusing, very complicated Supercorp/MCU crossover fic that I've been dabbling with while I write other things. Essentially Lena finds herself stranded on Earth-616 and working with Coulson while she tries to find a way back home. Oh, and Kara is freaking out while trying to figure out where it is Lena went. It's set during their rift so its extra angsty. This snippet is Lena volunteering to go and act as the mole to take down a remaining HYDRA cell.

“Feel free to continue discussing it between yourselves,” Lena said as she stood up from the table. “But I think you already know that sending me in as the mole is the best play.” She looked around the table and saw the gears turning (however unwillingly) in everyone's head. All except for May who was the only one who would actually meet her gaze. You could give my mother lessons, Lena thought, thinking she had weathered far less intense staredowns from Lillian in the past. She felt everyone’s eyes on her as she turned to leave, half-expecting someone to take another stab at trying to convince her of how foolhardy her plan was, although no one did.

There were moments where Lena forgot she was even onboard a ship, it being too large and herself too busy to realize how small it actually was, but today was not one of those days. She found herself walking in the direction of the lab without really meaning to. She got about halfway there when she heard the patter of hurried footsteps behind her. Nearly quiet enough for her not to notice. “Lena.” “I’m guessing you voted against me,” Lena said, not bothering to slow down for May’s sake, knowing she could easily overtake her if she wanted to. “I did,” May said baldly. She fell into step beside Lena easily and while her gaze was still just as steely, she did at least have the decency to open the lab door for her. “No witnesses,” Lena snarked. “Smart.” “There are cameras,” May replied, perfectly deadpan. She glanced behind her before closing the door as if she expected to see someone wanting to intrude on what May clearly wanted to remain a private conversation. “As noble as your offer was,” she said in a tone that made it perfectly clear she believed it was anything but, “ I don’t think you understand what you’re offering.” “Infiltrate the remnants of a Nazi paramilitary terrorist organization bent on world domination to bring it down from within? No, I got the gist of it,” Lena said coolly. “Whatever stories Coulson or the others might have told you about Hydra, trust me when I say they’re far worse than you could imagine. You’re not an agent, you’re not trained to deal with the physical or mental toll that this job would entail. Coulson is wrong for even considering it.” “But he is considering it?”

“Against my better judgment,” May replied silkily. “If this is a bid to get into Coulson’s good graces or to cement yourself a position with the others then I can tell you right now that is wholly unnecessary. Coulson trusts you and the team does too.” “But not you,” Lena said, not meaning to sound accusatory but sure that it had to at least sound a little that way to May.

“No,” May replied without a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t trust you.”

#asks #how the hell do I tag this?#supercorp #aos #if you haven't watched agents of shield please do it's delightful

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aro-pancake-writes · 6 months

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@spookyspecterino @fangbangerghoul @bearlytolerant

WIP Wednesday! Let's do it!

This one's living up here, rent free in a triplex, along with Chant from Hadestown.

Ng+ spoilers.

It's just a sketch for a first chapter, but let's go!

Btw, it's about a Starborn that did everything to go back.

Lover everything I do, I do it for the love of you.

I've been travelling for… so long I lost count. Searching, looking, everywhere.

My hands are bloody. My emotions are all but gone. I don't even bother anymore. Not with trying to meet the new versions, with seeing them die.

I tried, I think. Once, long ago, when all of this started. I wanted to move on, to continue with my life, fix the mistakes I couldn't fix before.

But this is the last jump I'll ever take. I'll resign. Find an empty planet and live there the rest of my days. Or end it all before that. I just know that I can't stay in this universe a moment longer.

I close my eyes, remembering him. The reason I jumped in the first place. He told me to. He said, promised, that we'd find eachother again. That he'd love me in every universe.

I laugh at that last one. There's still a scar on my stomach from one of the meetings we had. One that Sam never had Cora. That he still loved Lillian.

I'm broken now. My only guiding light is, was, to find him randomly across the universes. The Unity said he would eventually jump in, he'd come looking for me.

It's been millennia, and I'm no longer sure.

So, one more jump. One last try.

The lights are blinding, and the sights were once mesmerising. They lost their beauty for me so long ago.

I make my way back to New Atlantis. One last time.

There's something hauntingly familiar as I walk through the spaceport to the Lodge. Something that tells me I've been here before. I've been to this version.

I step into the Lodge, waiting to meet Sarah, have her asking me about the artifacts. I prepare myself for Walter snark comments and Matteo's awe.

But that's not what I see.

The first thing I see is a familiar cowboy hat. Sam.

I hold back from jumping at him, no matter how much I want to and it breaks what's left of my heart that I can't. It didn't end up well before.

I watch, patiently, as he turns to face me, removing his hat.

Sam looks older. There are strands of silver on his hair and beard, and wrinkles forming around his eyes. But it's still him.

He's smiling. Arms open and inviting.

I cross my arms, fighting even more the urge to go to him. It's not my Sam. Not the one of my original universe. That I fell in love with. It's another version. Right?

I can't be back. After all this time, to be sent back feels like the Unity is rubbing it off on my face.

“Haven't seen you in a while, love.” Sam says, stepping closer to me. “You're still as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

He touches my face, and I allow him. It's been so long since I felt any kind of warmth, that this feels like it's scorching my skin and I want more.

“Please, don't tease me like this.” I say, remembering the universes I've told him.

“I'm not.” He says, placing a hand on his holster, taking out the pistol there. “This is for you. Saved my ass more than I could count. Time to give it back.”

It's my pistol. I couldn't bring myself to use one like it since the first time I went through. Couldn't keep them.

“It's yours now.” I push his hand back, so he can put it away. “I can't take it away from you.”

His smile dies. It's almost like he sees that I'm not the person who walked through Unity.

“Why would I need it? It was a reminder of you.” He asks, stepping back. “I finally got you back. And I'm not letting you go again.”

Again.

If there was ever any doubt that I'm back, it fades away. I'm home.

I can't resist anymore. Falling into his arms, I allow myself to feel again. I cry, holding on to him.

“How long?” I gather the courage to ask, unsure if I want too know.

“A little over ten years.” There's sorrow as he answers me, running a hand on my back.

I missed so much. Cora is all grown up now. Probably off to college.

And I can rest. Hoping that is not just another bad joke from the Unity. They did it so much by now, with universes where he was already dead, or happy in a different life. Those were the worst for me.

Not really thinking, I kiss him. It's a heavy kiss, where we both show how we missed eachother.

I can't believe we're finally back together. After all this time.

“So,” I lean back, looking into his lovely blue eyes, “what did I miss?”

#starfield #sam coe #spacefarer x sam coe #starfield sam coe #starfield fanfiction #starfield spoilers

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marinawolf · 11 months

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A lot of the prompts you’ve gotten are happy and fluffy and awesome. But can I challenge you as a writer with a bit of angst/vulnerability?

Lena has a scar in a spot that’s always covered by clothing so the general public doesn’t know about it. How she got it isn’t happy memories and a direct consequence of Lionel/Lillian/Lex when she was younger. Then Kara sees it and shares her (Kryptonite) scar(s?), shocking Lena because she didn’t believe it possible for Kara to scar

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED! Thank you for this. I love writing angsty fics.💙

(Also, if you enjoy angsty supercorp fics, I'm regularly updating one called Always You on ao3. My username there is marinawolf! It's all about revelations, red k Kara and angst!)

Here you go. I hope you like it:

Scarred (Supercorp)

Lena couldn't help but marvel at Kara's sheer beauty. Her presence was a radiant force, her cascading blonde hair framing her face like a halo. Those enchanting blue eyes held Lena captive, their gaze a magnetic pull that drew her closer.

Lena's fingers threaded through the strands of Kara's hair, aching to hold onto this moment forever. Their lips crashed together and Lena felt electricity surge through her body, igniting a fire that threatened to consume them both.

Time stood still as they explored each other with an unquenchable hunger. Kara's lips were a revelation, each touch imprinting itself on Lena's very soul. The taste of Kara on her lips was a divine elixir, sweet and intoxicating.

As their kiss deepened, Lena surrendered to the intoxicating euphoria that enveloped them. Her heart thundered in her chest.

When their lips eventually parted, Lena found herself lost in Kara's captivating gaze once more, her blue eyes asking for permission that Lena gave freely. She pulled Kara to her once more, and when Kara's fingers moved to the buttons of her shirt, her breath hitched. The moment was both exhilarating and terrifying, and Lena found herself holding her breath as Kara's fingers skillfully undid the buttons of her shirt.

And then it happened. As Lena's shirt fell away, revealing the scar that had haunted her for years, Kara gasped audibly. Lena's heart sank, fearing that Kara's reaction was one of shock or disgust.

She felt a surge of self-consciousness wash over her. She wanted to hide, to pull away and cover herself, but Kara's hands held her in place, grounding her in the present moment.

"I'm sorry," Lena whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "It's not a pretty sight, I know."

But before she could utter another word, Kara's touch silenced her fears. Her fingertips glided gently across the length of the scar, tracing its path as if trying to understand every curve, every line. Lena watched, her breath caught in her throat, as Kara's gaze softened with an unfathomable tenderness.

"What happened?" she whispered.

And Lena told her, her mind drifting to her childhood, to a time when her life had been shattered by the actions of her own brother. He had orchestrated a horrific event, an intentional explosion that had caused unimaginable damage. Their nanny had lost her life in the blast, and Lena had been thrown through a glass window, the impact leaving a long, jagged scar on her abdomen.

The pain of that memory resurfaced, and Lena felt a lump forming in her throat. It was an event she rarely spoke about. Lillian, her mother, had blamed Lena for the incident, adding another layer of guilt and shame to an already heavy burden.

"It's a reminder," Lena whispered, "It's a reminder of my family, the pain they so easily caused, of my weakness. Of my complacency in the face of that darkness."

Kara sat up without a word, straddling Lena's waist, her eyes filled with an intense determination. She reached for the hem of her own shirt and slowly lifted it, revealing a tapestry of tiny scars that adorned her abdomen.

Lena gasped, her eyes widening in astonishment as her fingers instinctively traced the delicate lines etched into Kara's skin. She had never imagined that Kara, with her seemingly invincible presence, could bear such marks. It was a revelation that shook Lena to her core.

"I didn't know..." Lena's voice wavered with a mixture of awe and tenderness. "I didn't know you could scar, Kara."

Kara's expression softened. "Kryptonite leaves its marks," she explained gently, "Do you think that these scars are symbols of my weakness?"

"Never." Lena whispered, "You are so strong, Kara."

"Then why do you feel that way about yourself? This scar," Kara's fingers traced its jagged edges, her voice soft, "it's a testament to your strength. It's proof that you survived, that you came out on top of all the darkness. It's a reminder of the incredible person you are. That you are a kind and wonderful person despite your family. These scars are a part of who we are, Lena, and we should never be ashamed of anything that reminds us of our own resilience."

And then, Kara leaned in and captured Lena's lips with her own, erasing any lingering doubts or insecurities. In that moment, Lena felt a surge of gratitude for Kara's presence in her life. It was as if the touch of Kara's lips had the power to heal, to mend the wounds that had haunted her for so long. Kara's touch was a balm to her wounded soul, mending the cracks and shattering any lingering insecurities.

As their bodies drew closer, Lena shed her self-consciousness and embraced the vulnerability that came with being truly seen. Kara didn't view her scar as a symbol of pain and darkness; to Kara, it was a testament to Lena's strength and the triumph over her family's legacy. The scar that she had once despised now held a new meaning—an emblem of her resilience and a reminder of the love and strength that existed within her, despite the darkness of her past.

And as Kara's lips met hers once again, Lena surrendered to her- the woman who had stolen her heart and ignited a fire within her that could never be extinguished.

#supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #kara zor el #kara x lena #fanfic #lena author has scars #kara danvers has scars #kara danvers x lena luthor #supercorp first kiss #lex luthor

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stupendousbookworm · 1 year

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HPHL MC #1: Loretta Werriott

More info + stuff under the cut

I. Basic Information

Full Name: Loretta Lillian Werriott Nicknames: Lor, Etta, Etty, Lunatic, Psychopath, etc. Gender: Female Sexuality: ? Date of Birth: 02. 11. 1874 Blood Status: Pureblood House: Gryffindor -> supposed to be sorted in Slytherin, but negotiated with the Sorting Hat to avoid suspicion. Nationality: British Wand: Blackthorn wood, Dragon Heartstring, 11 1/2 inches, sturdy. Perfect for dueling and spell crafting. Boggart: [redacted]

II. Appearance

Hair colour: Honey-blonde strands over Platinum-blonde hair Eye colour: Hazel Skin tone: white Height: 5'4" - 5'5" (~163 cm) Weight: 57kg

III. Backstory

Loretta and her twin brother, Lloyd, spent most of their childhood living with their aunt. Their parents were often out and about on dangerous quests for power and fame. Loretta was their aunt's golden child, exhibiting magic very early on. The Werriotts were a famous family of dark wizards, and the twins were exposed to the dark arts from an early age and ended up witnessing unspeakable horrors within the walls of the Werriott Manor.

Loretta began her spellcasting journey from the age of six, while Lloyd was considered to be a squib after showing no signs of magic. She became proficient at it, and eventually gained an interest in spell crafting and inventions.

She joined Hogwarts at the age of 11, just like any other young witch or wizard, while Lloyd still stayed at home. There, she meets Sebastian, Ominis and Natsai, and limited her social circle to these three.

As she progresses through her years at Hogwarts, she becomes insanely power hungry, pursuing the dark arts along with Sebastian and slowly going insane. She began inventing destructive spells that could potentially psychologically torture some poor soul.

She's a reliable, trustworthy person who could teach you about spell inventing and the secrets of the dark arts. Watch out though, she's deranged and will not hesitate to kill/torture someone/something.

She's a calm and composed dueller, but when she snaps, hell breaks lose. She hates losing duels and will absolutely get revenge.

tagging @akaisenhatake since loretta's pretty good friends with their oc ianthe

#loretta werriott #hphl oc #hphl #hphl mc #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #natsai onai #ianthe court #hphl profile #meg's mediocre art #lloyd werriott

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suunkiised · 4 months

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le wife and husband <3

[Start Image Description: These characters are organic versions of Nightmare Freddy (Frederick) and Nightmare Foxy (Lillian) from the game Five Nights at Freddy's 4 on a plain white background. Frederick is on the right side of the canvas, his eye is closed, a giant scar goes from his neck up to his eye, it's a light tan. Frederick is smiling with his teeth, and his ears are pinned back, he looks happy. He's wearing a lab coat, and holding Lillian's hand. His hair is a dark brown, that's pulled back into a low hanging ponytail, a long strand of hair at the end of his hairline forms a heart. Lillian is tall muscular and scarred fox that is wearing a black skin-tight one-piece. She has long russet hair that's pulled back into a braid, she has bangs that hang over her eye. She has two scars on her upper arm closest to the viewer and one large scar on her upper arm furthest away from the viewer. Lillian's eye has three scars over it, she's smiling as she kissed Frederick's forehead. The piece has strong yellow and orange lighting with the shading being of purples and pinks, giving of a warm and pleasant feeling to it. End Image Description]

#fnaf shipping #fnaf ship #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf fanart #fnaf 4 #fnaf 4 fanart #fnaf 4 art #nightmare freddy #nightmare foxy #nightmare frexy #fredlilli #lucart

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uzumakisavior · 6 months

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P:1/3 "I Love You, Dad."

Personal thought dump. The reason why I am taking a small break. I am just processing things. Daddy issues and paternal figure trauma. You're more than welcome to read, but its personal and not meant to be an essay. may delete later. not proof read. *sigh* WHEN i SEE YOU, GEGE!!! WHEN i SEE YOU, GEGE!!! Excuse me while I cry in the corner. I'm a little f*cked up right now.

A child witnessing a messy divorce isn't for the faint of heart. My mother wasn't one to forgive, even though she was the offending party. My mother would put my hands on my father and make him bleed. I only witnessed the arguing, and even still, it was endless. When they finally separated, she would leave me with her friends because she wanted to party (making me vulnerable to all types of things) and kept me in a room with a movie so I wouldn't disturb her. To my mother, I was an inconvenience to her selfish desires. I witnessed my mother do things a child shouldn't know. My life was unstable and all i wanted was genuine love. My aunt would come to visit me, and years later she'd tell me, "Lillian, you would cry and ask to live with me. You told me that being with Mom made you feel like a "Bird Locked In A Cage."

But my father? My father was tall, lean, handsome (so I've heard. But i have pictures to prove it. And i like to say I get the better part of my looks from him. ), and well mannered. His long, ebony, black hair and pale skin would compliment each other perfectly. I was gifted with his almond eyes and high cheekbones. He loved his culture. His identity was important to him, and he was never one to rage. I would never, ever, witness him lose his temper. Not even with my mother.

I always felt safe and secure with my father. He spent time to talk to me. We would play tag and video games together. He bought me my first Nintendo Game Boy. He would help me at the monkey bars in the park. I got A's in my school projects thanks to his help. My sibling and I would cuddle him while we watched a movie before bed.

Visitation with my Dad was day and night compared to life with my mother. I have memories where I forced myself to stay up all night so he wouldn't leave. It was a battle to keep my eyes open. His arms wrapped around me while I rested on his chest. When I was with him I was free to be me. I was safe. I was loved. I was important. All of us were a priority under his care, and I felt it when he embraced me. My abuse at home would cease whenever I saw his face. And yet, time with my Dad was always cut short by those custody orders.

He kept his long locks in a braid or low ponytail. It sported such a shine, lol, he might as well have modeled a shampoo commercial. It was straight as a board. Not a curl in sight. I was fascinated. I wanted hair that whimsical. I wanted the hair of a princess, like my dad. It was strange because he was supposed to be a boy, and my hip length hair couldn't compare.

"Dad, can I brush your hair?"

"Hm? Yeah. Sure."

He was sitting on his futon reading a magazine. He leaned back, legs crossed and shoulders relaxed.

I was only five. Maybe six. My little hands would reach up and grab sections of his hair. The way the strands felt against my palms fascinated me. I'd toss it, swing it, pull it gently to see if it would break. I'd even let his hair glide down my hands like a lustrous dark waterfall.

"Dad, promise me! Don't ever cut your hair ok?"

"Alright, " he chuckled, "Why is that, Lillian?"

"Because one day, Imma jump rope with it!!! It's already so long!!!" I was so excited at the idea, I began twisting 2 sections like a rope and pretended to play double-dutch.

"I promise. No worries." His voice was always so gentle and loving. Always soft for his children. I was one of three.

As I smoothed out his hair I proclaim:

"Dad, I love you."

----

#Im miss you dad #I miss the version of you i knew #She took me from you #right when I needed you the most #I was your one and only daughter #I am tasked to forgive her but i just can't #personal #save #dad

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emma-m-black · 1 year

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Lillian Crusher, a What if Multi Chapter Story.

I had an idea for a story spin on this season's Picard. Where Lillian Crusher is the Daughter of Beverly and Jean-Luc and it was that fact that Beverly became pregnant with her that Jack was formed by our bad guys as a twin to use for their future plans. Kind of my take on the comment from Vadic about when she says something along the lines of "you think he was yours?"

Let me know what you guys think. I have a few chapters done up now and like all my work I post on the interwebs, it is really unedited. So excuse grammar and spelling that you come across, I usually just stream of conscious these for the most part.

All Works Mater List Post

CHAPTER: ONE

Lillian sat on a cargo crate, datapad in hand. She was skimming through the personnel records of the bridge crew of the U.S.S. Titan. Currently, she was reading the classified psychological report of the ship’s Captain. Another victim of the battle of Wolf Three Five Nine. Twisting a strand of her red hair around her finger, she hit the section which read about Starfleet’s reluctance to give him the promotion to Captain.

“Ensign, are we boring you?” A voice boomed over Lillian’s thoughts.

Looking up, Lillian found the other Starfleet officers in the hangar all leaning over one another to look at her. She was sure she was a sight to everyone in the room. Everyone was in their assigned colours, pressed and starched, while she wore dark black form-fitting pants and a plain black shirt under her dark brown leather jacket.

Tapping on her pad, she closed the file and slipped off the crate. She tucked the pad under her arm as the Captain of the Titan himself walked her way. “I asked you a question, Ensign.”

Standing to attention, Lillian looked the Captain over as he came to rest in front of her. His hair was slightly thinning, salt and pepper in his trimmed beard. He had a stern look on his face as he, too, examined her. “It’s Commander, Sir.”

“What are you, twelve?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Really? Do you have a name to go along with that title?” He asked, before tucking his hands behind his back.

“Commander Lillian Crusher, Sir.”

Captain Shaw looked at one of his security officers and pivoted his head in such a way as to call him over. “Lieutenant, are we expecting a Commander Crusher to be joining us today?”

“No Sir.”

Lillian smiled as she looked from the Captain over to the Lieutenant. “Perhaps you should check again.”

The Lieutenant lifted his pad and, after a few quick button presses, looked at his Captain with wide eyes. “Captain, I read this posting roster an hour ago.”

“And your point being?” Asked the Captain with a roll of his eyes.

“The transfer must have just come through. It says she is your new Senior Intelligence Officer.”

“Give me that.” Captain Shaw reached out a hand and took the pad. He began to tap away at the device as he tried to find answers to his questions.

Watching him, Lillian held in the laugh that threatened to leave her lips. The look that had quickly overtaken his face told her that he was trying to access her personal file, only to discover he did not have authorization. She watched as he handed the device back over.

“You will find your room assignments and station postings in your data pads. Dismissed.”

Everyone in the room turned to leave, including Lillian. However, she was paused by the Captain stepping in her path. “Nope, not you. You are coming with me.”

“With all due respect, Captain. I would like to take a shower.”

“And I would like to have you off my ship, but today we don’t get what we want, do we?”

Lillian smiled. “No Sir, we do not.”

“With me Commander.” Captain Shaw led the way to the turbo lift and Lillian followed silently. No words were said as they moved throughout the ship. When they arrived at the bridge, Lillian paused her steps and just looked out at the bridge. It was truly a magnificent sight. Her attention was drawn away when Captain Shaw cleared his throat.

Swiftly Lillian followed him into the Captain’s ready room.

Once the two were alone, the Captain finally spoke again. “Can we skip the bullshit cover story?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

“Aww, but it was really good. I spent the entire trip thinking it up.” Replied Lillian.

“How do I know that you are who you say you are?” He asked as he lowered his hand and looked at Lillian.

Pulling her datapad from her arm, she typed in her clearance code and handed the device to the Captain. “You should find what you were looking for in there.” Now her redacted picture and general information would show.

She watched as the Captain stepped back and sat partially on the large desk as he looked over her file. “How do I know you didn’t fabricate this?” He placed the datapad down on the desk next to him and looked across at her.

“Secure room, authorization Crusher, seven, twenty, charley, omega.”

“Authorization accepted, room secured.” Come the electronic voice of the ship’s computer.

Captain Shaw shot up, his right hand tapped on the tabletop and quickly he pulled a phaser on her. Lillian placed her hands up in surrender. He reached with his left and tapped the device, but it only let out a scratch of static before losing the connection.

“If I wanted to take you out, Captain, I would have done so in the lift. Now, I’m going to reach into my jacket and pull something out, okay?” She could see the twinge of fear that came out on the Captain’s face. “I’m trusting you, and I need you to trust me, too.”

He tipped his head, indicating for her to continue. Leaving her left hand up, she reached across her chest with her right and slid it into the inside of her jacket. She soon felt the coolness of metal against her skin. Pinching it between her fingers, she pulled it from its confines. She held it out and then lightly tossed it high in the air towards him. Reaching out, he caught the object in his free palm. Bringing it towards himself, he opened his hand to reveal a Starfleet badge. Much like his own, however, this one was completely black. “You’re the fucking boogeyman?”

“I prefer bogey woman.” Replied Lillian, who had moved to raise her right hand once again while he inspected the device.

“Why show me this? Surely it’s not standard to be announcing you work for a division that officially doesn’t exist. Or are you here for me?”

“Honestly and off the record, Sir, I don’t know why I’m here.” Lillian gave her right hand a slight shake. “Can I put my hands down? I promise I’m not armed.”

“Something tells me you don’t need a phaser to kill me. So in the spirit of trust.” Captain Shaw lowered his weapon and placed it on the table.

Lillian lowered her arms and gave them a shake as she placed them at her side. “That’s better. I haven’t slept or eaten in over seventy-four hours any longer and I might have just passed out on you, Captain.”

“Well?”

“A non-federation mercenary team pulled me in the middle of my assignment, handed that datapad.” Lillian began. She pointed towards the pad sitting next to the Captain. “They gave me no explanation. I moved from destination after destination came through. First a refugee shuttle, then a cargo station and then a nearby Starfleet transport hanger. While on route, I was given notification of promotion and station placement on your ship. They put me here for a reason, but gave me no further instructions.

“So I’m just supposed to let you wander the halls of my ship, until what? You take out one of my crew. What if I’m your mission and you just gave me time to run?”

Lillian rolled her shoulders. Her muscles and joints were stiff and throbbing. “My gut is telling me something is wrong. If you look more closely at that crew roster, you might notice that while looking official it is missing the Starfleet archives code. Meaning…”

“The list hasn’t actually been recorded in the Starfleet database. So it’s a fake?”

“No, I think it’s real. I would just bet they are delaying the paperwork.”

Captain Shaw ran a hand over his face. “So someone is using my ship as a safe house?”

“I believe so. Which is why I am telling you. I won’t have your crewmen put themselves in harm’s way for me. Especially when I have no clue why.” Said Lillian.

“And you’re sure you didn’t just make the wrong enemy along the way? Had your identity compromised?”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“Why my ship?” Asked Captain Shaw.

Lillian stuck the pads of her thumbs to her eyebrows in thought. “If I knew, I would tell you.” She closed her eyes for a second and felt herself sway. Without her vision to help her balance, the fatigue in her body quickly took over.

“Woah.” Captain Shaw spoke.

Opening her eyes, Lillian found the Captain on his feet, and a step closer to her. His arms were outstretched as if he was preparing to catch her. “I’m fine.” She meant to brush him off, instead however, she felt her knees buckle as she began to fall to the floor.

Hands wrapped around her arms, keeping her semi upright. “Go to your quarters, eat something, shower and get in uniform before rumors spread and your cover is blown.”

“Yes, Sir.” Replied Lillian.

“Are you okay to walk?”

“Yes, thank you.” Lillian raised her hand up and gripped the Captain’s biceps as she pulled herself upright. “Might be a little suspicious to be walking me across the bridge.”

Captain Shaw nodded and slowly released his hold on Lillian. He then proceeded to walk back over to the desk. He retrieved her datapad and badge. Tapping away at the screen for a few seconds, he then handed her items over. “Room assignment and schedule. I’m trusting you with my crew, but I will be keeping you on a leash.”

“Understandable Sir.”

Chapter Two - Read Here

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