#supergirl but with better writing

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

What do you do when someone you love is a psychopath and a serial killer? How do you pick up your life and move on from it?

If you're Lionel Luthor, you don't. Your son betrays you and the legacy you built for him, and so your heart betrays you too. You sit at your desk with those damn pills your quack of a doctor prescribed and one too many drinks. You feel a warning twinge on your arm before excruciating pain, red and angry, blooms in your chest, and you never see the morning. 

The only good thing about this is that you never see your son go to trial for killing 47 people over a span of 6 years. People whisper that you are one of Lex Luthor’s victims.

If you’re Lillian Luthor, you don’t either. You clean the damned mess these Luthor men left you. You take over the company that your husband had the gall to leave you, just as he left you with your only daughter. You clean up the tatters of your family’s reputation and legacy that your son left behind. 

In the eyes of the world, you move on. You rise, finally able to flex the muscles so long held back by your husband and the rest of the world's expectations. And you bring Luthor Corp with you. 

The millstone of the trials and scandal hang heavy on your neck, but all your life you have taught yourself to walk gracefully among lesser beings with your back straight and your head held high, just as you did as a young girl with textbooks on your head. This is no different.

But once a month, you make a pilgrimage to Stryker’s Island. To Lex. To the son you loved the best way you knew how, the only way you knew how - with a firm grip and the relentless, uncompromising push to achieve excellence, the intractable determination to make him grow into his fullest potential. That this potential was realized in murder, malice and manipulation was not your intent, but the world is far too quick and vindictive in their judgement because he is a Luthor. The mightiest always fall the farthest, and those beneath them wait hungrily for the chance to pull them down.

Your daughter leaves you too. The daughter who emerged, not from your body, but from your husband's infidelity. The same one who once looked up at you with eyes full of innocent trust that you vowed you would reciprocate in the best way you knew how. And so you did your best to prepare her, to mold her in your own image - into what a Luthor woman should be in this cruel, savage world that both worships and hates Luthors. 

You’ve seen what the world does to Luthors who do or say the smallest wrong thing and you never want her to suffer those whispers and so you tell her yourself. Better she hears it from family than the mouths and forked tongues of strangers.

But she is too hard-headed and too soft-hearted to comply. She rejects your bequest, the ungrateful girl, and tries to escape the Lena Luthor you tried so hard to cultivate all these years. 

As if you don't know. As if you could forget that it was her who brought this down upon all of you. Her, and that detestable Clark Kent. 

And if you are Lena Luthor, you cannot move on. You cannot escape it. No matter how far you stray from your family. No matter how many reparations you make, no matter how hard you strive to separate yourself from the curse it brings -- it always finds you.

It finds you in the dark hours when you’re by yourself without the touch of another woman or the burn of alcohol to distract you - and suddenly you’re a scared little girl again, walking into an ominous house made of grim oak, unforgiving marble and dark shadows. And the only warmth you receive is not from a largely absent and formidable father nor from a condescending and controlling mother, but from a charismatic and mercurial brother who taught you how to play chess and promised you the world.

But it turns out his shadow was the darkest of all, and you didn't see until it was too late.

How could you not see it?

You were just a girl at that time, Agent J'onzz once tried to comfort you with that fact. Back when Lex was arrested.

Just a schoolgirl home for the holidays -- shoes polished as bright as the naivete in your eyes, uniform pressed to Lillian's exact standards, picture perfect but always with just one tiny detail you forgot that was enough to attract notice and invite criticism. This time it was the glasses sitting slightly crooked on your face. 

You were more concerned with weathering the scorching disapproval just long enough until you got back to boarding school that you failed to notice Lex's distance. You failed to recognize the signs. You failed to decode his lies.

You failed.

By the time you got back to boarding school, he would have killed 2 more people.

By the time you caught on, he'd already killed 31. Those lives are all on you, because you were so absorbed by yourself, you didn't see what was happening under your nose. And those 3 agents Lex killed because he refused to come quietly? The judge and jury he poisoned at the trial? That's on you too.

Forty-seven lives taken. Forty seven more than there should have been if you hadn't been so blind. 

If only you hadn't been comforted by the gentle hand holding yours under the table throughout Lillian's litanies of your shortcomings everytime you were home from school. If only you hadn't fallen for the "adventures" he had tricked you into that always ended with you in disgrace or punished, like that time you stole Lionel's prized pen from the King of Jordan, just for him. 

If only you hadn't believed the fairy-tale dream of the two of you escaping to the snow-covered mountain peak, of finally being free of the Luthors’ oppressive presence.

And now he's serving 20 consecutive life sentences, and you've devoted your life to studying and stopping people like him.

Now you have 10 years of experience as a profiler and an undercover operative for both the Interpol and the FBI. Your work has taken you from Toran, to Kaznia, to Corto Maltese, to Metropolis, and now to National City.

You have seen the worst humanity has to offer, from terrorists to human traffickers to serial killers. But you keep looking into the abyss.

Because you looked into it once, you stared it in the face, and you didn't recognize it for what it was. 

_________

Or, a Supercorp Criminal Minds AU

There's actually 3 major plots in this, and they all intersect in varying ways

The first is Lex as a serial killer

The second is about Sam and Reign

The third is the most vague one, which includes Lena’s birth mother and Leviathan

It starts (as the intro says) with Lex being a serial killer who killed 47 people. In one version of this story, Clark is a reporter who, like Lena,  made the connection between Lex and the murders. One night after dinner  with the Luthors, Clark sneaks into Lex’s study to find evidence he can use for his story. 

He’s rummaging in a desk when he hears a voice from the doorway.

“You  won’t find anything there.” Clark whips around to find Lena standing  there, silhouetted against the light coming from the hall. He tenses,  thinking she’s about to tell her brother what Clark was doing. 

“If  Lex really is behind these murders, and I know you think he is, you  won’t find anything there. He’s not foolish enough to hide evidence  here." 

Clark doesn’t say anything, he just stares at her.  Lena pauses, looking away. "I… I didn’t want to believe it. Not Lex… He  wouldn’t…” Steel injects itself into her green gaze. “But the more time I  spend with him, the more clearly I see the truth. You see it too, don’t  you?" 

Clark straightens up and nods gravely. “Yes.”

The FBI eventually becomes involved in the investigation, and the team includes a certain agent on the fast track to becoming the unit chief, J’onn J’onzz.

J’onn meets Lena only briefly, but he’s struck by the young girl’s keen intelligence and remarkable calm. (Eventually, he becomes the one who suggests that Lena consider a career in profiling and criminal psychology).

Fast forward a couple of decades later, Lena is working with the BAU. The other members of the team here are J'onn, Alex, James, Brainy and Winn. Lena is a transfer from Interpol, and she's had years of experience in profiling, suspect and victim identification, as well as infiltration, under her belt (I also hc that she worked briefly with the CIA and the MI6, mostly in intel, profiling and undercover work).

For the sake of her anonymity (and also because it was necessary for her undercover work), she's erased all connections to Lex and the Luthors (including old photographs and newspaper articles until the name Lena Luthor is but a footnote in the Luthor history with nothing to tie her to who she is now). She's also changed her last name. (I'm torn because I just don't know if I can use the name Walsh for Lena, it doesn't sound.. right? Idk So for now, she's Agent Kieran).

Lena is very professional, almost intimidating. She’s revered by the younger agents in the Bureau, well-respected by her colleagues and highly praised by her superiors. But she's very guarded and keeps everyone at arm's length, doesn't go out for after-work drinks with the others, practically sleeps with one eye open — years of working undercover and living with a serial killer will do that to you.

Until a certain promising young recruit comes along.

Kara is new in town — the adopted sister of Alex Danvers, the cousin of one of J'onn's old friends (I don't think teaming family members up is actually allowed in the FBI, so some suspension of disbelief is required here). Lena is assigned to oversee her training and transition into the team herself.

Kara's sunny demeanor couldn't clash more with Lena's icy, professional facade. Lena approaches the task with thinly-veiled impatience and something remarkably close to disdain.

However, Kara quickly proves to be more than a perky attitude and a pretty smile. She squirms at blood, which Lena is quick to exploit at first (What FBI profiler can't stand the sight of a corpse? "We profile serial killers here, not celebrities in high-waisted jeans.").

But Kara displays true empathy to the victims and their families, she's sensitive to other people's emotions and knows just what to say to get a reluctant victim or witness talking. She's extremely dedicated to catching the unsubs, and relentless in her investigation. Not to mention, she's extremely handy to have around in a crisis.

Lena finds this last part out when they're on a case, trying to find a missing girl.

The team is headed to the unsub's apartment, but on a hunch, Lena heads to an abandoned warehouse near the apartment, with only Kara as backup. They enter the warehouse, and just as they're clearing the rooms and checking for the missing girl, the unsub attacks Lena and manages to pin her to the ground, choking her. Kara gets there just in time to shoot the unsub in the leg, saving Lena's life.

Later that evening, Kara and the rest of the team go to the bar to celebrate. Lena is absent, as usual.

Just as Kara is getting another round of drinks at the bar, a low, smoky voice interrupts her. "Didn't profile you as a drinker, Danvers.”

Kara squeaks, nearly dropping the drinks, and turns to see Lena smirking behind her. “I wonder what other surprises you're hiding behind those glasses and cardigans."

"Agent Kieran! I didn’t expect to see you here— No, these aren't all for me, I— " Lena's face softens at Kara's babbling, and she takes a few of the shot glasses from Kara's hands.

"You know, I have a rule..." A wry smile lifts one corner of her lipsticked mouth. "Anyone who saves my life gets to call me Lena."

Kara blushes profusely at the other woman’s arched eyebrow. "Well then, if I'm calling you Lena..."

Lena smirks. "Kara it is, then."

For the first time — much to the gaping surprise of the rest of the team she's worked with for years — Lena joins them for a post-case drink.

To everyone's — and no one's — surprise, the pair quickly become the best of friends.

Two days into their friendship, Lena starts jokingly calling Kara Supergirl. Three weeks later, they start grabbing lunch together. Three months in, Kara sends Lena a video of herself petting a St. Bernard on the street only to be bowled over in a mass of furry paws and puppy licks — and the cadets Lena is training are even more bowled over to hear the "Ice Queen" laugh. Of course, they're later treated with a scorching glare and a sharp reprimand, but it's a revelation just to discover that she's actually physically capable of laughing.

By six months, the whole department is in a secret "will they or won't they" betting pool. A year in, and every other department has stakes in the pool (Alex publicly condemns the pool, but secretly bets a hundred bucks that "they will" by winter).

One time while they're eating lunch together, Kara tells Lena why she became a profiler when her career was in journalism.

"It just felt... too late. I'd be covering these stories about these terrible things, people who were already victims, and I thought... it's too late... Don't get me wrong, I loved being a reporter. Journalism was a way to bring truth out there, to give voices to these victims, but.... I wanted - needed - to do something more. I wanted to stop these things from happening. To keep these people from becoming victims."

But despite their growing closeness, Lena has yet to tell Kara about Lex, or about her life before the BAU.

She doesn't tell Kara about the woman she'd loved once, who hates her now because of the lies Lena told her. She doesn't tell her about Reign. She doesn’t tell Kara about the sweet young girl living far, far away, who plays soccer and loves to sing and read. The little girl Lena loves from afar, but knows only through secret updates from James, because it's for her own good.

Because that sweet little girl that Lena hasn't seen since she was a baby deserves to live a life that's whole and good — away from those who love her, but could hurt her. Whether she's thinking about Sam or herself, Lena doesn't know.

There are too many secrets, Lena decides, as she shoves them all one by one into their little boxes, clamping the lid securely shut. Kara is too good to be tainted by any of them.

Kara, who gets squeamish at the sight of blood, but resolutely hunts each killer like an avenging angel. Kara, who somehow, somehow still believes in the good in people.

And when she realizes that there is very little of that to be found in Lena Kieran or Lena Luthor, Kara will hate her as much as Lena hates herself.

But then the day comes when Lena receives a package in the mail.

She reaches in and pulls out two things: one, a chess piece — the white knight — and the other, a surveillance photo of Kara and Lena having lunch together.

On the back of the photograph are three cryptic little words that fill her with dread: “See you soon, sis.”

Panic overrides logic and years of training, and Lena stashes the package and its cursed contents into her safe. Heart racing, she calls the warden at Strykers. It takes several favors, but she manages to procure video footage confirming that her brother is still incarcerated. Despite the visual confirmation, she doesn’t sleep a wink that night, nor the night after.

Everything is quiet after that, so quiet that Lena is almost lulled, if not into a sense of complacency, then at least a state of less vigilance. Everyone needs a breather, a reprieve from paranoia at some point, and that is exactly what Lex is counting on.

A string of seemingly-unrelated murders heralds Lex's return, luring the BAU — and Lena — closer and closer. Lena knows she should leave, and leave soon. The closer the team gets to figuring out it's Lex, the more danger they're in — not just Kara, but the rest of the team that Lena has now come to care for.

But Kara, being Kara, holds onto Lena and keeps her from leaving.

Kara knows her too well now. She knows that something is wrong. She pushes without pushing, in that earnest yet respectful way, relentless in her concern for the people she cares about, yet still mindful and considerate in her efforts. It's one of the things Lena loves about her.

And then, after coming home from a case one night — Kara is shot by an intruder in her apartment.

The whole team is thrown into chaos trying to find Kara’s assailant. They all agree that the attack cannot be random, but there’s a frustrating lack of evidence anywhere.

But Lena knows.

The lack of clues is a glaring clue in and of itself. She knows this is Lex’s handiwork. Her brother’s way of getting back at her for “telling on him”, just like he used to when they were children. Except the stakes are infinitely higher this time, and he has gone too far.

And Lena — who should've known — didn't prevent it. She was too selfish, too greedy, wanting more time — more time with Kara, more time with her team, her family — and now this is the result.

Lena knows that Lex will go after everything and everyone she loves, because he wants to hurt her. Luthors are not raised on half-measures. Win the game, or burn the board. He will not stop, Lena knows this. Not until either of them is dead.

While half the team is waiting at Kara’s bedside, and the other half is delving into Kara’s case — two people are noticeably missing.

Alex can’t bear to see her sister looking so weak and vulnerable in that hospital bed.

Instead, she goes to Kara's apartment to clean her sister’s blood off the wall before Kara gets home from the hospital.

She's just getting a bucket full of soapy water when she hears movement at the door. Alert, Alex already has her gun out and trained at the door.

When the door opens, all Alex sees is a flash of black hair and wide green eyes before she gets a gun aimed at her too.

"Lena?? What the fuck?! What are you doing here??"

Alex puts her gun down slowly, her heart still hammering. Lena cautiously does the same, her hands held out to her sides.

Alex gestures at the door "How did you—?"

"Kara gave me the key three months ago." Lena's eyes haven't lost their wary edge, but she has the decency to look a bit abashed. "She said I could come over anytime."

"Yeah, but Kara's still in the hospital. What are you doing here?"

"I know that," Lena slants her a light glare as she looks around Kara's apartment. "I just — I wanted to make sure the place is secure, and... well... I didn't want Kara to come home to that."

She gestures at the blood-spattered wall, but looks away quickly. As if she, like Alex, can't bear to stand the sight of Kara's blood.

It's funny. They're both seasoned agents, they deal with horrific things on an almost daily basis. The sight of blood rarely fazes either of them anymore. Except this is Kara's blood.

It seems impossible that Lena could get any paler, but here she is, as white as a ghost and looking just as sick as Alex feels. And yet, she's still here. Out of everyone in Kara's circle of friends and family, only Alex and Lena are here, performing a task that somehow seems more terrible than anything either of them have encountered.

It's in this moment that it begins to dawn on Alex just how special Lena is. How special she may still become.

Alex bends down and drags the bucket of soapy water to the wall. She doesn't look at Lena, and instead focuses on the wall and swallows down bile at the sight of her sister's blood. Over her shoulder, she mutters "Grab a sponge."

"That's not gonna be enough. We, um—" Lena clears her throat and chokes out. "— need bleach."

Alex nods curtly. "Under the kitchen sink."

Lena gets the bleach, and the two of them silently begin scrubbing Kara's blood off her walls, and that's that. Once they're done, Alex gets a couple of beers that Kara keeps especially for Alex in her fridge and offers one to Lena.

Then Alex gives her a mild version of a shovel talk lol

And then, two days before Kara is released from the hospital, the news breaks. Lex Luthor, convicted serial killer, has escaped from prison.

All eyes are focused on the BAU screen, except J’onn’s. He turns to his left. Lena Kieran watches the television without batting an eye.

Lena waits only until after Kara has come back home, to make sure that she's safe, that Alex is staying with her for now.

Looking at the blonde tucked into blankets on the couch, soft and vulnerable, Lena can't bring herself to say goodbye, so instead, she just leans over to kiss Kara on the forehead and says good night.

Then without a word, without even packing a bag, Lena Luthor leaves National City to lure her brother out of the shadows.

Lena makes her exit just as the team is on the cusp of finding out that Lena Kieran is Lena Luthor.

She leaves her apartment intact, knowing that Kara and the rest of the team will eventually search it. She sticks the surveillance photo of her and Kara on the bedroom mirror and writes on the glass in red lipstick: "I'm sorry. I promise I'll make this right."

J'onn is the only one who knows the truth of who Lena really is, and in the end, he's the one who tells them.

With Lena gone, it's clear to J'onn that she's about to do something monumentally stupid, like sacrifice herself for the team. He gathers everyone, and tells them the truth.

The group is gathered around the conference table, staring at pictures of young Lena on the screen.

Tiny Lena, not even 5 years old, just after she was adopted by the Luthors, her wide green eyes sad and confused, her little hands clutching a worn, well-loved teddy bear.

Six year old Lena and a teenaged Lex Luthor standing together in front of Lena's new school. The little girl in her neat uniform, holding onto the older boy's hand, looking at her big brother with an adoring smile.

Fifteen year old Lena on summer vacation, and a now-adult Lex, the young girl perched on the hood of a restored vintage car with Lex's hand on her shoulder. Lena is thinner, more gaunt, and her smile less bright, but Lex is different. He's grinning at the camera, looking every inch the charismatic billionaire playboy. You would never know from Lex Luthor's easy smile that he had already been killing for 5 years at this point.

Finally, the last Luthor family portrait, taken the year Lex was arrested. They're a beautiful family, there's no denying that. Each person in the photograph is regal and proud — but in each set face, there's a private war being waged. Lena looks far older than her sixteen years. Her face shows no emotion in each cut line, but her eyes betray all: a somber intensity that's impossible to look away from. Lex is the exact opposite. His smile is charming and draws the viewer's gaze, but his eyes are cold and dead. Within 8 months, Lex would be in prison, Lionel would be dead, Lillian would be running the company, and Lena would no longer be a Luthor.

Kara feels... she doesn't know how she feels.

There's anger, shock, confusion and... hurt. A lot of hurt, a heavy ball of it resting on the base of her spine, mixed with the ache of a longing she doesn't understand, something broken that only confuses her more. So she decides to settle on the anger.

Yes, anger is good. It gives her a sense of purpose and clarity, and it doesn't threaten to make her curl up into a tiny ball. She's angry that her best friend — one of the most important people in her life, second only to Alex — has been hiding all of this from her for years. She's angry that Lena, who has taught her so many things — not just about being a profiler, but about life and love and friendship — didn't trust her enough to tell her about any of this.

Anger is good, because it keeps the tears stinging the back of her eyes from falling, because... because Kara's always thought she knows Lena better than anyone. Had believed that out of everyone, Lena had trusted her, Kara Danvers, enough to get to know her. But now, it seems she doesn't really know Lena at all.

The screen flickers.

Everyone blinks up at the screen in confusion as it begins to glitch. Suddenly, the photos of Lena disappear from the monitors. It’s replaced by what looks like a grainy video feed. Kara turns to J’onn, who shakes his head, frowning. This was not his doing.

“What the hell?” Alex frowns up at the monitor and nudges Winn, who immediately squints into his computer screen. “Who’s doing that?”

“I have no idea...” Winn mutters. “Gimme a second...”

It looks like feed from a surveillance video, except it’s showing what looks like a cabin. Even from the pixelated image, it looks well-decorated, expensive, like something from a country home magazine. Outside the far window, Kara can see a view of snow-capped mountains. Outlined in the middle is a dark shadow of a man.

“They live soft, luxurious lives, don’t they? Your so-called friends. Oblivious, unencumbered by knowledge, and so pathetically... mortal. Fragile.” A smooth baritone voice cuts through the static, and Kara’s blood chills. That voice is familiar. “You and I, we have been trained in the hard school of danger and war. Haven’t we, sister mine?”

Another figure steps out of the shadows and into view, and Kara gasps. Even in the grainy image, Lena’s smile is sharp and icy. “Comparing yourself to Alexander the Great now, are you? But then again, you always were trying too hard, Lex.”

I don't know exactly how happens, I haven't figured it out yet, but Lena confronts Lex with the intention of killing him, except she's the one who's "killed".

And Lex, being the sadistic ass that he is, had the whole thing captured on a hidden camera and it's being broadcast on every BAU monitor, for Lena's family to see.

The whole team watches Lena "die".

But Lena had a failsafe. She told someone of her location, maybe Andrea or Jack or Jess idk, and had them standby to help her in case something happened.

The whole time Lex streams their confrontation, Kara is frantic. The table suffers under her fury, splintering with the force of her desperate grip.

Every time they get nowhere trying to track Lena and Lex, Kara punches the walls, and Alex has to hold her sister back, afraid of how Kara is losing control.

When the feed broadcasts Lena's death, it seems almost unremarkable. One second, Lena is standing, the next she's on the floor, lifeless and unmoving.

A deadly silence grips the BAU conference room. No one is moving, not even breathing. It's as if when Lena dropped dead on the feed, so did they. They wait. And wait.. and wait.

Lena doesn't move.

On the screen, Lex checks his sister's vitals and satisfied, steps over his sister's body and out of sight. The camera blacks out.

They all stare dumbly at the screen for a long moment, afraid to move, as if moving from their frozen spots would make it true.

It's Alex who stirs first. She jumps into action, frantic, ordering Winn to get the feed back, but it's impossible. The room erupts in a blaze of action, but Kara... Kara's the only one left staring at the screen, frozen in shock and disbelief, as if she can't believe it's real.

It’s not. It’s not.

In the interim between Lena's death and the reveal that she’s alive, Kara spends every waking moment hunting down Lex or secretly looking into Leviathan (which she also uncovers when she digs deeper into Lena’s life before the Luthors and learns more about Lena’s mother).

Kara goes down so deep into the rabbit hole, that Alex is genuinely afraid for her sister. She almost prays that they don't find Lex Luthor. Not because she doesn't want that man brought to justice, but because she's afraid of what Kara can and will do once she sees him.

Kara hasn't mentioned Lena's name in months. But then again, most of their team hasn't.

In the months since Lena’s death, two new members have been brought int the BAU team, William Dey and Nia Nal.

William and Nia know very little about Lena from the team itself, because her name is hardly mentioned. Nia only knows Lena through her reputation, and through what Alex and the other agents outside of their team have told her. 

Alex is the only one in the team who says Lena's name because she hates that everyone tiptoes around it.

Lena was their friend. Her friend, and it's not right that everyone flinches at her name, that they can't look at the plaque of her on the memorial wall. She knows how hard it is to look at Lena's picture there, just as hard as it was to look at Kara's blood on the walls.

But Alex is not gonna be the one to look away. Lena didn't look away when they cleaned Kara's blood off the walls, and Alex will not look away from her either. She's gonna hunt Lex Luthor down like the animal that he is and make him pay for taking Lena from their family.

But Alex is getting worried about Kara.

Her sister doesn’t sleep anymore. Barely eats. Kara doesn't stop — she pores over old files of Lex's murders, goes over the old profile, possible places he might be. Alex is worried about her fixation with Lex. It's not healthy. Kara's grief — or her refusal to grieve — is gonna drive her to the ground.

So she confronts Kara about it.

They're in the BAU conference room when Alex finally speaks up, but Kara meets her gaze head on. With one hand, she points to the empty seat Lena used to favor, right across Kara's. "Lena's chair, Alex. What do you see when you look at it?... Nothing, right? We've left it empty all this time. No one can bear to sit it in. Tell me, what do you see, right now?"

Alex glances over at the chair, then back at her sister "Kara..."

"Tell me what you see, Alex."

Alex sighs. "Nothing."

"Exactly. Nothing." Kara nods, her eyes hard. "Do you wanna know what I see? I see her, Alex. I see Lena sitting across from me, just as clearly as I can see you now.”

Alex swallows at the intensity burning in her sister’s eyes.

“I see her everywhere, Alex. All the time. I see her smile, her eyes, and I—" Kara's voice cuts off with a sob. The agony in her eyes is almost too much for Alex to take. It takes a long moment before Kara can speak again.

"I can't stop, Alex. Whenever I stop and I look at her, I — I know she's - she's gone, but she looks so alive, and I— I know the only way I can get any kind of peace about it is knowing that Lex Luthor has been wiped off the face of the earth."

A frisson of fear shivers down Alex's spine. "Killing Lex won't bring Lena back, Kara."

"I know that, Alex." Kara's eyes are dark as flint. "Believe me. I know."

Sometime after Lena’s “death”, the BAU receives an unannounced visitor.

Lillian Luthor strides into the BAU bullpen, tall and imperial in her furs, her icy glare making everyone it lands on feel small and insignificant.

She strides past the bullpen, past Kara, and comes face to face with J’onn. Her cold blue eyes render everyone in the room silent. She scoffs her hatred into his face.

 "Taking my son away from me wasn't enough for you people, was it? You had to take my daughter away from me too. I warned her. I warned her this would be her undoing, and I was right. And now she's dead." 

They end up having to work with Lillian to find Lex, because as Lillian says "It takes a Luthor to find a Luthor." [And there's gonna be an interrogation lol. I just have this vague idea of Lillian talking about Lex and Lena.]

"The truth is, I lost Lena long before now.” Kara suspects that this is the closest anyone has come to hearing regret in Lillian Luthor’s voice.

“I was.... harsh on her, in a way I never was with Lex. Lex always had a sharp edge to him, but Lena — Lena was too soft, too vulnerable. A Luthor cannot be soft. Not when the world is watching, waiting for you to make the smallest mistake."

It’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough. Kara slams her hands on the table, unable to believe the nerve of this woman. J'onn grips her arm in warning, but Kara ignores him, snarling at Lillian, her anger plain on her face. "You abused her! You made her feel unworthy of love, unable to trust anyone—"

Lillian lifts her chin. "I made sure my daughter could face a world that's hungry for Luthor blood. I made her a Luthor."

"She was just a little girl when she came to you!" Kara shouts, her fury growing by the second. "A little girl whose mother just died, who was looking for love, and instead she found you. She trusted you—"

Lillian's voice rises, a flash of heat scorching the cool, detached dignified tones. "I made her strong!" 

"She didn't need to be strong!" Kara yells, surging up to her feet, her face inches away from Lillian. J'onn grabs her shoulder, restraining, but Kara presses forward. "She needed someone to love her! And you answered that with nothing but condescension and neglect! The only one in your family who made her feel loved was a psychopath who betrayed her!"

Lillian is struck silent, her eyes wide and her face strained as she stares at Kara. Kara meets the older woman's eyes, staring her down without the fear that a younger Lena must have shown Lillian all those years ago.

Kara wishes she could've been there to hold that young Lena in her arms, wishes she could've taken her away from the family that broke her.

"The Luthor name didn't deserve Lena. You never deserved her."

#supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #supergirl #katie mcgrath #melissa benoist #me trying to write #I guess it could also fit with any crime drama not just CM #tbh I haven’t watched the show in I don’t even know how long. I was just watching a crime drama show and I had these in my drafts so #enjoy I guess? or not there’s a truck full of angst in this thing #p.s. this is like my FAVORITE characterization of Lillian. i tried my best 👉👈 please be kind #this is version 2.0 of my Criminal Minds AU cos i had to rework that one. and honestly i think this one is better #more fully realized i guess? idk it's 2am #sorry for the long post 😅

[fazedlight]

Mercy (character study)

Kal said he knew what it was like.

He didn’t. How could he?

Kara had choked down her anguish, hearing him describe his skirmish with a black mercy, as he tried to commiserate with her encounter. He had dreamt up this entire incredible world - just from his own mind, from fragments of knowledge learned in the Fortress, from the plant embedded in his chest - fantastical and new. On Krypton, he had a robo-dog named Brainiac, a beautiful wife, a son who loved pancakes.

Krypton never had pancakes.

Kara gave a sympathetic smile, pushing away the words she wished she could say. About how the black mercy had let her listen to her father’s voice say inah for the first time in decades. About how the black mercy had shown her the mother who had taught her how to pray to Rao. About how the black mercy had offered her the beautiful lands out her childhood window - all burnt to ash, long before Kal had ever formed his first memory. 

She didn’t lose a fantasy. She had lost her whole world.

And she hoped Kal would never understand that.

#this started as a headcanon and turned into a ficlet... again #apologies for the pain #it's just that For The Girl Who Has Everything was a much better plot for Kara than Kal #kara character study #supergirl #supergirl ficlet #supergirl drabble #drabble #ficlet #mel writes ficlets

[wolfie-bee]

Ties that bind

read it here as a twitter fic

"You know, when you showed up at my door this morning I didn't wanna let you in." Kara's words are a soft vulnerable truth, but the weight of them lodges deep in Lena's chest.

She knows, had seen the inky lines of mistrust etched across Kara's face that morning when offering the beginnings of an apology and a plea to help stop Lex.

There's tension in the lines of Kara's shoulders and Lena's eyes get stuck there as she looks down at her feet and stacks her hands on her hips. Then they dissolve into silence.

Well why are you still here? Lena wants to ask. Why am I here? But the words feel heavy, hurt springing like blood on her tongue.

Guilt immediately rushes in, you stole from me, you convinced me to steal for you and you used kryptonite on me!! an echoing ring in her ears that instantly liquefies her resolve. Her jaw tenses and ticks, and she dips her head, shifting her eyes away from the otherworldly gravity that Kara's holds.

Kara lifts her head and her eyes fixate on Lena's as the silence stretches, a stormy sea of emotions churning in their blue depths. The intensity in them tenses Lena's spine and she folds her arms tightly across her chest like a physical shield from their direct assault. She doesn't recognize this look, hates the uncertainty as bitter indignation crowds her stomach and the words you betrayed me, you broke my heart lock with startling force behind her ribcage.

"Alex was right," Kara chuckles humorlessly, "I'm not rational when it comes to you. I think with my heart and not with my head."

"Funny, Lex said the same to me."

Kara's expression turns inscrutable, and Lena doesn't know if it's because of the mention of her brother or their similarities when it comes to dealing with each other. She figures it's a little of both.

"But…" Lena continues, swallowing her pride and the lump forming in her throat, "is that such a bad thing?"

Kara doesn't answer. Instead, she lets out a shallow breath, forehead crinkling like this conversation had already become too much. She had shut this conversation down one too many times when Lena had tried to broach it earlier. But damn if it doesn't make Lena want to crawl out of her own skin.

She'd thought they were making some progress, had felt the tentative stirrings of reconciliation as they'd worked together to stop Leviathan. 

It's disconcerting that she can't get a read on Kara's eyes as she takes a step back, red boots scuffing against the floor. And Lena's heart aches at the physical distance like an ever widening chasm between them.

"On Krypton, trust was something sacred." Kara starts softly, inhaling a large gulp of air that draws Lena's eyes to the glyph on her chest. "We broke that in each other, we caused each other so much pain and -"

"Pain is a necessary part of life," Lena says hoarsely, the words quivering on her tongue. "I learned that the hard way when Non Nocere failed."

Another bout of silence falls over them and Lena uses it to turn away from Kara, gathering strength for what she's about to say next. 

"So I get it. You don't have to trust me in order for us to keep working together."

"But I want to…" Kara answers immediately, and there's earnestness in the soft tremor of her voice. "you came through today at every opportunity and I - I'm not saying that you have to keep doing that but, I want to trust you, Lena. I want to let you in again."

Lena releases the breath she didn't realize she was holding, relief spreading like fissures across her heart, a warm hopeful balm in her veins as she squeezes her eyes shut.

"Kara," she breathes out, lips trembling as she forces out the word. A host of reasons why they shouldn't do this flashes through her mind, the biggest of them being that Lena didn't think that she deserved to hold on to the tentative reins of trust being offered.

She hears her take a step.

Then another. 

And another. 

Until Kara's pressed right against her, a comforting warmth at Lena's back that makes her heart tremble as those warm familiar hands land on her shoulders. The touch nearly makes Lena flinch. She doesn't know why it surprises her since Kara has always been the more tactile one between them. And her brain stalls in trying to furiously calculate exactly how long they've been apart.

Kara notices, of course she does. She breathes out shakily, hands drifting along the curve of Lena's shoulders and the small of her back. 

Lena trembles at the feel of it, her touch starved body aching to be held in Kara's arms again. Because Kara is warmth and light and Lena still loves her with the inevitability of a new day and the gravity that binds them to each other.

Kara's touch is an irresistible force and Lena can't even find it within her to be angry that her defenses were practically nonexistent as the tension melts from her in seconds.

That warmth reaches all the way to her toes as those hands slide in a comforting press down the arch of her spine to settle lightly at her hips. Before Lena can think herself out of it, she turns, just to see her face as the desire to reach out, to touch, loosens the threaded beat of her anxious heart. 

The hands on her hips bunches in Lena's blouse almost to the point of contention and she freezes, lifting her eyes to Kara's. This is the closest they've been in a while but the uncertainty in Kara's eyes is almost Lena's undoing. She allows herself a small conciliation, grasping onto the hands already clinging to her, as if that could somehow convey the mix of emotions thrumming inside her chest.

The wall between them all but falls away as Kara loosens one of her hands to reach out and cup her face. Lena leans readily into the contact and Kara's eyes soften, allowing her a glimpse of the woman she'd fallen in love with.

"How do I let you in again?" Kara asks, a shaky plea that loosens tears from her devastatingly attractive eyes. Lena wants to reach up and kiss them away, but her insecurities leave her rooted to the spot.

"Maybe you shouldn't," She answers truthfully, her doubts manifesting as those small broken words.

Kara's palm trembles against her cheek and Lena closes her eyes, moving to shift away. But Kara's other hand presses more insistently against her side, warming her through her clothes and Lena nearly chokes on her name, can't find her voice which gets lost somewhere in the trembling cry struggling to break free. 

"I know I hurt you by not telling you my truth." Kara says, drawing Lena's eyes to hers. "And I'm sorry. I haven't had a lot of practice doing this. Growing up I was forced to hide my abilities because the people around me could get hurt and I - I know that's no excuse, but I hope -" Kara stops abruptly, lips trembling too much to continue.

And Lena doesn't want to talk about this anymore, can't talk about it without breaking down again. Her heart aches for Kara, for this woman born of different stars and the hardships she faced. So she closes the rest of the distance, folding herself into Kara's embrace.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that." She whispers, tucking her face against Kara's neck as those warm arms go around her. 

"Lena," the way that Kara says her name has never failed to make Lena's breath hitch. "I hope that one day you can forgive me."

Her trembling arms lock around Kara's shoulders, and Kara nuzzles against her hair, chest expanding as she breathes Lena in. Lena closes her eyes and oh, Kara's touch is grounding and these arms feel more like home than any place on earth ever could.

She doesn't expect the soft lingering kiss that Kara leans in and presses to her temple and the intimacy and affection of it shatters Lena's careful composure. Tears fills her eyes, tears that spill down her face as her breathing shortens and they don't have time for this, they have to stop Lex from whatever he's plotting, they have to -

But patient, gentle Kara frames her face between warm palms, tenderly brushing the tears away with the pad of her thumbs and the anchoring force of another kiss pressed sweetly against her skin. 

Her kiss is light dawning in the darkness, darkness that rushes out from Lena's heart and flees from the crevices of her soul as Kara's kisses move across her temple and down to her eyebrows. She doesn't stop, pressing them in reverence across her eyelids, sweeping along the bridge of Lena's nose down to the apple of her cheeks, a sweet calming force that quiets Lena's mind.

It's new, this level of intimacy, the fact that they've never really used kisses for comforting each other in all of their years of friendship. Lena finds that she can't get enough of it, craves the press of Kara's warm mouth on her skin and can't believe that they've never done this before.

She flushes brightly when Kara tilts her chin with a hand covering her jaw to drop a kiss just below Lena's ear and stills long enough for Lena to reopen her eyes.

Kara's cheeks are a lovely red and Lena's eyes get stuck there, admiring their rosy hue. She doesn't know what expression her face forms as Kara moves back a little but they stare at each other, all heavy lidded eyes and soft breaths mingling in the short space between. The staring lengthens to the point where Lena feels like she's about to combust beneath the allure of those magnetic blue eyes.

So she moves in, drawn to Kara, softly touching their noses together. The action elicits a wobbly smile from Kara's pretty pink lips and Lena closes her eyes again, hands falling to grasp onto Kara’s suit clad biceps. Her nose skims across the rise of Kara's cheek, and down to her calming fluttering pulse, overwhelmed by the scent of peaches clinging to her skin.

One of Kara's hands finds her hip again, the other mindlessly tangling in Lena's hair and Lena can't think of a safer place than these arms as she absentmindedly noses along the slope of Kara's neck till the point where the supersuit starts. Her lips tingle where they accidentally meet warm skin and she draws back a little to intentionally press them lightly against the hollow of Kara's throat. 

It's a bit concerning that she doesn't have the wherewithal to be mortified by her actions, but Kara's only reaction is a quiet breath against her ear.

So she does it again, soft, tentative.

This time Kara makes a tiny noise of encouragement that fills Lena with ardor and she wants to hear it again, has to hear it again. So she opens her mouth a little and scrapes her teeth along the corded muscles of Kara’s neck, feeling them flutter beneath the soft roll of her tongue. Kara's breathing turns heavy.

Lena delights at the response and the feeling of Kara's fingers tightening in her hair. She grows bolder with her kisses, moving back up Kara's neck and across the line of her jaw like a woman possessed.

This isn't something that best friends do. But right now they weren't even friends. And Lena's always been a little too in love with Kara to truly make her an enemy. 

"Lena," Kara says, the name a soft aching sigh as Lena presses a litany of sweet kisses along Kara's soft reddened cheek, unable to stop or draw herself away as those fingers clench tighter in her hair.

Kara's breathing is a mess, and she closes her eyes as Lena carefully tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, lips still pressed to soft warm skin.

"I'm sorry too." She whispers, soft, penitent. The tears come again, the shame at what she'd done a suffocating force as her lips tremble against Kara's skin, dangerously close to the corner of her mouth. "I hurt you and I know I can't make up for what I did but I promise, I'm going to try."

Kara's hand slips beneath the blouse that had loosened from where it had been tucked in her jeans and Lena's breath hitches as her warm hand lands on equally warm skin. She kisses Kara's cheek again, pressing closer, feels like they aren't truly close enough as she kisses her again and again.

Kara's lips catch the last kiss aimed for the corner of her mouth and her hand slides around to Lena's lower back, making Lena's heart flutter.

She doesn't lose stride, if anything, she's embolden, her silken mouth parting Lena's lips with a soft tremor. The kiss immediately deepens, no prelude, no hesitancy, only a soothing whisper of Lena's hands moving to tenderly frame Kara’s face and kisses as inevitable as freefall.

Kara's kisses are transcendental and Lena's mouth parts below hers as her thumbs sweep against the apple of Kara's cheeks, lips aching with apologies and promises.

The crest of the House of El presses tight against her chest and Lena presses a palm directly over it, a silent promise, a deep shuddering breath escaping her lips as Kara's second hand moves to join the other as they frame the dips on her lower back.

Lena's hands shift to tangle in the red cape on Kara's back as she kisses her with salt on her lips and forgiveness on her tongue. Kara's mouth trembles against hers, a reminder of the more difficult parts of the conversation still to come and a sweet tentative taste of the reconciliation awaiting them.

Happy Supercorp Sunday everyone!! Once again this fic was written on Twitter today in response to the gif tweeted above by @CSIRJen who's awesome and just provides inspiring tweets that make me write these weird little stories 😅 thank you to everyone who's gotten this far, I'm always amazed when people read all of my rambling words.

#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #ties that bind #s5x19 scene extension #basically i saw supercorp's handshake in this scene and thought the cee w could have done better #my toxic trait is that anytime i see s5 angst as a gif or video i think supercorp should just hug and kiss about it #so here is me making them do exactly that #nothing like kisses to heal wounds 🥺💗 #my writing #my fics #supercorp twitter fic #twitter fic chaos #s5 finale re-do? #happy supercorp sunday

[luthordamnvers]

Hell was the journey (but it brought me heaven)

Chapter 7 - Lavender

“Are you sure you are okay with it?” Kara asked for the umpteenth time, pacing in front of Lena’s couch. Lena chuckled slightly, “What are you gonna do if I say no? You already sent it to print.” She extended her arm, offering her hand to Kara. “Relax. Yes, I’m sure. I trust you. We can’t keep hiding forever.” “I– I don’t mention you, it felt… invasive. Like giving too much.” Kara confessed, taking Lena’s hand, and interlocking their fingers after sitting next to her. “I just hate having to do this, because of one disgruntled ex-employee.” “Everyone important in your life knows,” Lena offered. “You are in a relatively public position as Editor-In-Chief. I am a very public figure and you are already terrible at controlling the PDA.” She teased Kara with a smile that made Kara smile back. “Even if you decided to do this now because you fear retaliation from one asshole, you are doing this for yourself, too. Also, you can control the narrative, if you say it first, you are doing so on your terms.” Kara bit her lip, thoughtfully. Lena was right, of course. It was already a struggle to keep her hands to herself while they walked next to each other or while having lunch, not because she wanted anything inappropriate, but it was nice to have Lena’s hand in hers, and she wished she could do it in public. The casual touches, the peck on the lips as they said goodbye, walking next to each other in an embrace. She felt like she was missing out on those.  Kara lifted Lena’s hand to her lips, and kissed the palm of it. “You are right. I don’t want to miss out on milestones about our relationship because we are hiding. We are two of the most powerful women in the city, we can deal with what happens next.” Kara finished, with a smile. “You are the most powerful woman on Earth, Kara. Don’t sell yourself short.” Kara laughed. “Yeah, Supergirl might be, but this is Kara Danvers’ life we are talking about. She needs to have some privacy, fade in the background, even.” Lena frowned. “You know, to me Kara Danvers could never fade in the background.” “I don’t know, I seem to remember you gushing about Supergirl being so solid and powerful.” Kara teased her. “I am going to kill Sam for telling you that. How does she even remember that?” Kara laughed. “Clearly it was important for your friendship.” “In any case, since I met you, Kara Danvers has been my favorite person in the world, did you know that?” “Are you being cheesy?” “A little, but it doesn’t make it any less true, darling,” Lena smiled.

Continue Reading on AO3 || From the start

#supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorp fic #supercorptober #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #sc fic #fic writing #supercorptober 2023 #better late than pregnant #nicnic writes #[10]

[ekingston]

You would write, perhaps… a fic in which Lena stays at Kara’s [insert very lovely locale description] Airbnb as the first stop on her I’m-Finally-Free-of-the-Luthors escape slash vacation. The air conditioner breaks and Kara comes to service things. [Insert witty banter that snaps back and forth and cheekily pretends to disguise the brimming tension].

(also on ao3.)

Italy sucks.

Lena is barely a week into her ‘free at last’ victory tour and here she is, sweat-drenched and stranded in an Airbnb that looks far more on the decrepit side of charming than the pictures on the website had made it seem. The vespa she’s rented to make her trips to the grocery store a little easier has proven impossible to maneuver up the steep road into town, the weather isn’t at all what she had been promised it would be, and now, at the infernal hour of 3pm, when even the bumblebees in the garden are napping and the quiet seaside town up the road has gone entirely still, her cottage’s air conditioning unit has decided to follow suit, releasing one final death rattle before giving up the ghost.

Lena strips down to her underwear, lies down on the terracotta tile in the kitchen and debates the merits of doing the same.

Her stubbornness wins out, in the end. Refusing to give her family the satisfaction of knowing their derelict daughter crumpled at the first hint of hardship, Lena brushes off her sophomore-year Italian and calls a repair service. There’s a knock on the door not an hour later, and she leaps from the bathtub filled with cold water she’s been soaking in to answer it, gasping at the promise of breathable air.

It’s only after she’s opened the door that she realizes the t-shirt she’s thrown on leaves little to the imagination, the water droplets clinging to her skin turning the fabric almost translucent. Now it’s true that modesty is an inconsequential thing in the face of 110 degree heat and 80% humidity, and Lena shouldn’t even care, considering she’ll likely never see this guy ever again—

but.

Lena hadn’t counted on the handyman being a woman, and an uncomfortably hot one at that.

They’ve sent her an amazon, Lena thinks, tall and broad and impossibly blonde. She’s dressed like a character from a gay porno movie, tight denim shorts and a clean racerback tank leaving an unnecessary amount of glistening skin on display, and she posesses a sort of lopsided, angular energy that reads significantly north of feminine. Even through her heat-addled haze, Lena can feel it beckoning to her.

“Signora Lena, giusto?” the woman confirms, dragging widening eyes over Lena’s figure before extending her hand. “Kara.” When her warm, callused fingers brush against Lena’s own, she feels at once far too exposed and also like the little clothing she is wearing is a blasphemy of some kind. 

She also finds she has lost the last bit of Italian she’s managed to retain. “Sì, sì,” she stutters urgently. “Entrami, prego.” Come on in.

The handyman — Kara — freezes abruptly in the doorway at Lena’s invitation, coincidentally crowding Lena where she’s backed into the brick wall to allow Kara to pass. Her gaze flashes up from Lena’s body to meet her eyes with sudden intensity. There’s an attractive pink tinge to her cheeks that Lena doesn’t think was there before. 

Lena doesn’t understand what’s happening. Kara’s close proximity combined with the infernal heat of the cottage already has her sweating again. Shouldn’t even a demigod understand the meaning of an emergency? Why is Kara staring at her like Lena is three scoops of gelato and Kara is trying to decide which flavor she wants to try first?

And then — oh. Oh no. Oh, fuck me, Lena thinks — which hilariously, mortifyingly, is exactly what she realizes she’s just told Kara to do. 

“Entrare,” she corrects, panicking, practically yelling it into the poor woman’s face. 

To her credit, Kara looks amused rather than offended, a bright, generous smile blossoming on her face. She blows at a golden lock of hair that’s fallen over her forehead, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated (and, apparently, international) gesture of relief. It’s so disarming it makes Lena want to prove that she’s capable of behaving like a normal human person.

“Mi scusi,” she apologizes, now fighting to survive the burn of embarrassment on top of the scorching hotness of the woman across from her and the sweltering temperature inside the cottage. And then, in an effort to blame the broken air conditioning unit for their misunderstanding, “Io sono molto, molto caldo.” 

A bright bark of laughter startles Lena out of her self-reproach and straight into righteous indignation. When Kara glances at her and realizes Lena isn’t entertained, she makes an effort to compose herself. “I’m sorry,” she snorts, her English lacking even a hint of an accent. “It’s just that— I agree. You are very, very hot.”

The words hit Lena like a bucket of ice water. “You’re an American?” she yelps.

“In my defense,” Kara says, holding up a placating hand, “I didn’t realize you were, too.” She manages to somehow appear both serious and casual when she follows it with a smooth, “and while we’re being honest, I would have taken you up in a heartbeat, if you’d been serious.”

Just like that, Lena is caught again, pinned under the weight of Kara’s cocksure smile. “Right,” she croaks, swallowing around the desert in her throat, watching as Kara wets her lips in a move that seems more compulsive than deliberate. It’s devastating nonetheless, the quick pink flash of Kara’s tongue kindling a quickly spreading blaze in the only place left on Lena’s body that has so far remained mostly unaffected by the heatwave. 

“Through the kitchen, right?” Kara winks at her, much too smug and far too attractive. She finds her way easily, kneeling down in the basil patch off the back porch — fragrant and vibrant in the midafternoon sun — where she patiently coaxes the ailing apparatus back to life. The unit looks like something out of the nineteen fifties, threatening to fall apart at the first touch of Kara’s hand.

Lena can relate. 

Looking for something to occupy herself with, she decides to make fresh lemonade. That’s something people do on hot days like these when dying isn’t an option, right? It can’t be that difficult. The lemons growing in the garden are firm and glossy and exquisitely tart. Lena can feel her mouth watering just thinking about them, looking through the kitchen window where Kara is grunting and twisting and grinding away, the pearls of sweat on her back gleaming in the late afternoon sun. 

If Lena makes a point of not changing out of her t-shirt and into something a little more appropriate for company, feeling the bottom hem tickling the tops of her thighs as she plucks the fruit from the branches, well — that’s her business. 

And if Kara chooses to make it her own, so be it.

“This is by far the worst lemonade I’ve ever tasted,” Kara tells her, affectionately, after she washes her hands and accepts her drink, standing just a little too close to where Lena’s perched on the kitchen counter. “And I ran a wildly unsuccessful lemonade stand the summer between first and second grade.” She’s all shoulders and smiles, unfairly handsome and too large somehow for the tiny little space Lena’s only just begun to carve out for herself.

Lena thinks she’d like a chance to make her fit.

She barely opens her eyes, busy basking in the once again functional air conditioning’s blissful breeze, but she does trace a very deliberate finger over the freckled forearm Kara has propped against the counter next to where Lena is sitting. “Not sweet enough for you?” she goads.

Kara hooks a thumb under the hem of Lena’s t-shirt, running the knuckle against the bare skin of her hip. She says, “I can think of something sweeter.”

Their mouths are pressed together on the next breath, Lena tugging Kara in by her preposterous hair, Kara sliding an arm around Lena’s waist to slide her in closer as she steps between her legs. Lena can taste the tartness of the lemonade on Kara’s tongue when she licks into her mouth. It forms a delectable contrast to the sweetness of her kiss, the lush richness of her lips.

Lena only manages to remove herself from Kara’s pull with tremendous effort. She knows she’s on the cusp of doing something very stupid, with the way Kara is dragging her thumbs up the inside of Lena’s thighs, but she’s beginning to feel a little more level-headed now that the heat isn’t broiling her brain, and allowing a stranger to ravish her in someone else’s kitchen wasn’t exactly on the agenda today. 

It’s only the sixth, maybe seventh item on her bucket list. 

So Kara leaves, but not without giving Lena her number, and an offer to help her with any other maintenance emergencies that might arise. 

It’s funny how that emergency comes just a day later, well after dinner, when Lena watches as one of her diamond earrings disappears down the drain of her bathroom sink.

“I heard you needed a hand,” Kara grins when Lena opens the door. 

Lena crosses her arms in retaliation, well aware of the way the position emphasizes the outline of her chest underneath her lace-trimmed robe. When she sees Kara’s eyes dip down, she smiles, vindicated. She leads her up the stairs and through her bedroom, and Kara has the audacity to look surprised when Lena shows her into the small bathroom beyond.

“I think I saw this in a movie, once,” Kara reflects, her voice clearly amused from where she’s crouched under the sink, loosening the pipe trap with a wrench. Lena has parked her hip against the counter beside her, studying the movement of muscle under the skin of Kara’s shoulders. “And here I was hoping the earring was a lie,” Kara says when she straightens, looking a little flustered as she deposits a freshly rinsed diamond stud into Lena’s waiting hand. 

Lena steps up closer, tracing a finger over Kara’s collarbone, feeling her exhale against her lips. Says, “I dropped it down the drain on purpose.” 

They barely make it to the bed. Kara knows her way around a woman’s body as well as she seems to know her trade, taking Lena apart with the same dexterity she’d employed repairing the clunky relic in the backyard. Lena draws Kara into her body the way she draws in oxygen when she runs — urgent, demanding — using teeth and fingernails until Kara hits a perfect, almost frenzied rhythm. 

Kara stays for breakfast, driving the vespa into town. Lena hitches a ride on the back.

So, okay — maybe Italy isn’t all bad.

(do yourself a favor and watch this scene)

#supercorp fan fiction #supergirl fan fiction #fic by ekingston #why is everyone better at coming up with fic premises i would write than i am? #i'm not complaining please keep them coming! #(OOO)IOF #ask meme #battenthecrosshatches #fan ficlet

[owl-with-a-pen]

I don't remember when, but there was a headcanon post from someone about Brainy falling asleep on the job sometimes because he overworks himself, and Winn and some of the other people at the DEO being startled by it, so what if he started falling asleep out of nowhere at the Tower too and Nia would find him and help him get more comfortable as well

This is so stupidly late at this point but anon, if you're still out there, this one's for you 😉

Nia should’ve seen it coming, all the signs had been right there.

As someone who could take the gold medal for ignoring her body’s needs when it came to sleep, Brainy came in at a close second – and that was only because he wasn’t susceptible to random fainting spells.

Usually, anyway.

There’d been one close call that morning, down in the lab. J’onn had been going over the details of their latest alien convict case when Nia had felt it. That dream-like gut punch that told her something was about to go very wrong.

Brainy had been stood at her side, arms tensely folded across his chest, all but smothering the Brainiac insignia on his shirt. To anyone else, he would’ve looked focused on the task at hand, but Nia could read between the lines.

He’d had maybe one solid thought track reserved for J’onn’s briefing, and that was being generous. It was no secret that their lack of leads over the last few weeks had been grating on everyone’s nerves, but none more than Brainy’s. She was pretty sure he’d manipulated his image inducer just to hide the extent of it from everyone. His eyes had been far too bright ever since they’d left the apartment that morning, the heavy shadows she’d seen lurking beneath them conveniently absent.

It was only when Brainy started to tilt in her periphery that Nia had realised what that gut punch had meant. She hadn't needed a vision to fill in the gaps, not when Brainy’s eyes flickered shut and he'd tipped abruptly towards her.

Fortunately, Nia was quick. Before he'd had a chance to fall, she'd caught his shoulder with her own, gently bumping him back into place. To his credit, Brainy recovered in record time, blinking quickly to recalibrate his surroundings.

The whole thing had lasted maybe two seconds, tops, and if any of the Super Friends had noticed, they didn't say a word.

So, Nia hadn’t mentioned it either.

She really regretted making that decision now. If she’d just called him out on it that morning, maybe she wouldn’t have found Brainy at his desk just a few hours later, head cushioned across folded arms, all but dead to the world.

The research Brainy had been working through was still visible on the Tower’s television screens, though the only sign of activity came from the steady flash of the stationary cursor. Brainy’s own computer screen had gone dark some time ago, which at least gave Nia a good place to start in terms of figuring out exactly how long he’d been like this.  

It wasn’t too late, just past lunchtime, and while any other member of the Super Friends might have been alarmed by Brainy’s impromptu nap, Nia knew what the others didn’t.

Brainy hadn’t slept that night. And it wasn’t the first time, either.

Some nights, she’d rolled over to find his side of the bed empty by 3am. Others, Brainy had tossed and turned so restlessly that Nia had been forced to grumble out half lucid complaints just to get him to quit it. By the time she came-to, she’d find him flat on his back, perfectly still at her side - eyes closed but flickering fitfully behind his lids, never quite unconscious.   

In the early days of their relationship, Nia wouldn’t have known what that had meant. Now, though? Now, she was very well acquainted with the stages of a Coluan sleep cycle.  

First, there was the short but succinct restorative process that lasted anywhere between one to three hours. The Coluan equivalent of a human sleep pattern, she supposed. In that time, he’d shut down all thought tracks, all non-essential processes, and allow his body and mind the total freedom to recuperate uninterrupted. His eyes never moved in that state, there was no REM cycle going on, no dreams at all. His mind retreated somewhere far beyond the realm Nia might catch glimpses of in her own dreams, a state of being linked solely with his life core, a shared space within the Big Brain. Wherever it was, wherever it took him, Nia knew he always found peace there.

The other sleep state – the one Brainy often fell into now he shared his nights with her – was something akin to a light doze. He was freer with his choice of positioning during that time, often cosying up to her instead of lying Nosferatu-style on his back. Those were the hours Nia liked best, where she could curl up into his chest or wind herself around him, feeling his breath in her hair, his hands on her waist or tracing patterns across her spine. His mind was open to her in that state, so much that the edges of their dreams would often blur and coalesce into one still life portrait that they could share.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him inhabit either of those states.

As she watched Brainy’s back rise and fall with each heavy exhale, she knew that this was more of a light doze situation than anything else. His fingers were curled tightly against the table, a level of strain pulling his shoulders taut. Nia couldn’t see her boyfriend’s face beneath his folded arms, but she could imagine the pinched expression that might’ve greeted her. She knew this nap wouldn’t bring him any peace, not when it hadn’t been preceded by the restorative process he clearly needed.

Her skin prickled at the thought.

She should’ve said something sooner. She’d felt it in her gut, why hadn’t she just…?

“He’s not okay, is he?”

Nia turned sharply at the sound of Alex’s voice. She hadn’t even noticed her come up from the elevator, let alone sneak up behind her.

Nia tightened her arms around herself, ducking her head. “He’s not been sleeping,” she said carefully, trying to hide the strain in her own voice.

“Again?” Alex asked. She took a step closer, peering over Nia’s shoulder, reviewing Brainy with a doctor’s eye. She frowned her concern. “I don’t think I’ve seen him this bad since he first started working at the DEO.”

Nia smiled grimly. “That tracks.” When Alex looked at her in confusion, she sighed. “Brainy used to tell me how difficult it was in the early days adjusting to this time,” she explained. “It really used to stress him out. And that’s the thing— he’s been stressing a lot worse since he took off his inhibitors, especially after…” Nia shuddered, gritting her teeth at the memory. She closed her eyes. “While he was working for Lex, I mean, he hardly slept. In fact, he would’ve done anything to avoid it. So now, any time he starts stressing over something…”

“The pattern repeats,” Alex finished. She watched Brainy sympathetically, worry lines etched into her brow. “I really don’t want to wake him, but he deserves to be resting properly. This—” she waved her hand over his head, “isn’t exactly ideal.”

Nia’s lips twitched. “I’ll handle it.”

“Are you sure?” Alex asked, turning towards her. “Do you need any help?”

“It’s fine. Trust me, I got this.”

Alex hesitated. It was weird, seeing that protective older sister instinct take over in real time. It practically glued her to the spot. Nia tried not to smile at Alex’s expense. She knew it couldn’t have been easy handing her duty of care over to someone else, especially if this had become her area of expertise in the early days of Brainy’s career.

She wondered if his sleep cycle had ever come up with Alex before. It was probably on his medical file somewhere, but Nia sincerely doubted Brainy had given up that information lightly. It had taken her weeks of sleeping in the same bed as him just to broach the subject casually.

Eventually, Alex cleared her throat. “Well then, take him home,” she told her, holding Nia’s eye for an uncomfortable beat. “And tell him he won’t be fit for duty until he’s had a proper Coluan-fit sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

Oh yeah, she definitely knew what was up. Nia felt bad for ever doubting her.

“Noted,” Nia said, saluting with two fingers as Alex headed back down to the lab, but not before giving Brainy’s hair an affectionate ruffle. Surprising neither of them, he didn’t so much as stir.  

Once she and Brainy were alone in the loft again, Nia bit her lip, shuffling a little closer to the table. She took up Alex’s old position, watching Brainy’s posture for any change, any reason to think he might have been aware of his surroundings at all.

When Brainy remained unresponsive, she took his shoulder with one hand, ignoring the tension knotted there, and brushed her fingers across his forehead with the other, knocking a few feathery strands of golden hair across his nose.

“Querl?” she asked softly.

On Brainy’s more difficult days, Nia always found it easier to reach her boyfriend by using his given name. Just as she’d anticipated, he shifted slightly, making a muffled sound into his arms. As he lifted his head, Nia tried not to smile at the imprint left behind on his cheek by his sleeve. His lashes flickered slowly as he tried to blink his eyes open. They were dark and bloodshot and extremely heavy lidded, but he was awake. He was with her.

Nia let her fingers travel up to the roots of his hair, scratching his scalp in the way she knew he liked. Brainy responded immediately, an appreciative hum rumbling somewhere in his chest. Nia did smile then. “Hey Wildcat, how’re you doing?”

“Nia?” his voice was a little dry, crackling heavily around his modulator as he became reacquainted with those muscles. He raised his head towards her, the first tell-tale flicker of acknowledgement whirring behind his eyes. “Apologies, I—I must’ve--” At that, something inside of him snapped to life and he straightened so quickly that Nia’s hand slipped from his shoulder. “I—don’t know why I—” He cleared his throat, and while obviously disoriented, his hand still found the keyboard reflexively, gripping it for purchase. Immediately, his screen turned on, although Nia didn’t miss the way he shied away from the bright light. “I assure you, it won’t happen again.”

“Oh, I can bet it won’t.” Nia took his elbow, leaning in towards his ear. “Because you’ve just been benched.”

It was adorable watching those cogs start to turn again as Brainy tried to figure out what she meant. She rarely caught him out like this, which really spoke volumes as to how exhausted he must’ve been. Brainy opened his mouth as though to refute her, only to close it again when he took further stock of the room. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Alex was here, wasn’t she?”

Nia snorted. “Doctor’s orders,” she repeated, rubbing his shoulder sympathetically.

Brainy’s quick burst of energy was already beginning to wane. He leant into her touch without hesitation, his eyes flickering shut again.

“Hey,” Nia said quickly, cupping the side of his face. “Listen, you’re exhausted, Brainy. Can you honestly tell me when you last slept?” She gripped his arm tighter, just for emphasis. “And not just cat naps, I mean your last restorative cycle.”

No more secrets, it had been both their promise and mantra to one another ever since Nia had saved Brainy from Leviathan’s ship. It wasn’t always perfect, and she could tell that Brainy was uncomfortable admitting to it now, but his exhaustion was clearly winning out.

After a few seconds to process, Brainy lowered his head in defeat. “Seven days, fourteen hours.”

Nia’s mouth fell open in surprise. “A week? You haven’t slept for a whole week?”

Brainy’s shoulders drew together defensively. “I have gone far longer without sleep before, my species are—”

She lifted her hand in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. “Querl Dox, Colaun or not, nearly eight days is a push and you know it.” When Brainy failed to meet her eye, she sighed, rubbing circles into his back with her thumb. “If there’s something on your mind, you can tell me.”

Brainy made a derisive sound at the back of his throat “That’s the problem,” he muttered irritably. “Everything is on my mind. I- normally, I can compartmentalise, control and distribute any thought or calculation I wish to hone my focus on. But, but right now?” He laughed through his teeth, baring them into a tight smile. “I can’t.”

“Can’t- compartmentalise?”

“Can’t think.” He rubbed at his eyes in frustration. “Recent stressors have been a factor, of course, but I find now that the simplest answer to a problem feels like a mile long task.”

“Lack of sleep can do that to a person,” Nia considered. She dug her knuckles into some of the more compacted areas of Brainy’s back as she spoke, watching his jaw tighten as he struggled to remain functional. “Why don’t we head home for the day?”

Brainy scoffed at that, rolling his shoulder away from her. He scowled down at the table. “Do I have a choice in the matter? I suspect you will remove me either way.”

Nia shrugged. “Well, it is the logical choice, unless you wanna take it up with Alex.”

Brainy only groaned in answer.

She stroked his hair, flattening out the top of his head before planting a kiss against his scalp. His skin was warm against her lips, not quite feverish, but a little more than a Coluan’s natural heat signature. She had her suspicions that he’d been dipping into power reserves normally meant for his doppelgangers just to keep himself on his feet.

But, that was a conversation for later.

“We’ll figure it out,” Nia promised, resting her chin on his head, letting that warmth bleed into her jaw. She wrapped her arms around his front, grinning when Brainy began to relax against her again. “If my mom taught me anything, it’s that things always look a little brighter after a good night’s sleep.”

Brainy perked up curiously at that, his dark eyes flickering up to meet her. “It’s two thirty in the afternoon.”

“Semantics.” She drew back, giving his shoulders one final squeeze. “Come on, ready to go?”

Brainy’s response was a grumbled mixture of Coluan and English, but he pushed himself onto his feet regardless. Nia untangled herself from his shoulders before heading out in front of him. She was halfway to the elevator when she sensed what he was about to do.

“Don’t even think about it,” she warned.

Behind her, Brainy dropped the tablet he’d been trying to surreptitiously stow inside his backpack. “Your precognitive abilities are growing stronger, I see,” he commended with a dry smile. “It’s annoying.”

Nia laughed. “Let’s go, sleepy head, before Alex kicks us both outta here.”

Once they were home and Nia had finally managed to coax Brainy to bed, she could tell he was still too restless to sleep. He eventually agreed to let her douse him with a little extra dream energy, lulling him into a part of his unconscious mind where any unruly thoughts would have trouble following.

She stayed close to his side as he struggled to get comfortable on the bed, keeping an eye on the ever-present tension in his arms as he folded them over his chest. He’d lifted any illusions from his image inducer the second they’d stepped foot inside the apartment, and now Nia could see the deep shadows beneath Brainy’s eyes, sinking like sallow bruises into his cheekbones.

It must have felt impossible at times to sleep with a mind as crowded as Brainy’s. The restorative process was meant to be an escape from that, a total surrender to the Big Brain, but that escape didn’t come naturally to Brainy, not after so many years without it, especially when he’d worked himself up like this.

Nia knew this would be a bigger conversation somewhere down the line, but Brainy was still hesitant to share his anxieties with her, especially anything that related to his time working for Lex. Kelly had offered her office to him if he ever wanted a professional ear, but he still had a way to go before he’d feel comfortable sharing like that.

Still, every step was progress.

For right now, Nia knelt by his side, stroking her hand through his hair, across his forehead. She let her other drift over Brainy’s chest and stomach, feeding lazy swirls of dream energy into his projectors. After a while, Brainy’s eyes fell closed, a stuttered breath passing uneasily through his teeth.

She knew he was starting to slip towards the restorative process when he began muttering things in Coluan. The words were disjointed, his accent far too thick and heavy with sleep for her to pick up exactly what he was saying. Eventually, even those words mellowed into a purr-like hum courtesy of his relaxing modulator. His fingers loosened across his front and – just like that – he was totally out, the Big Brain sweeping any latent concerns away as it pulled him safely inside, his projectors pulsing brighter as a result.

Nia maintained her dream energy for a while longer, although the more she leaned into that power, the more she felt her own consciousness begin to slip away. It wasn’t abnormal for a Dreamer to get pulled under by her own energy, and while she’d fought it for a long time, she knew now that it was as natural and welcoming of an entity as the Big Brain was to Brainy.

Before she gave in completely, Nia quickly tucked herself into Brainy’s side, resting her head against his shoulder. She kept her hand poised over his central life core, holding their connection until the very last moment.

Her power washed over her like a calming tide of seafoam, turning the darkness behind her eyes into a familiar shade of blue.

Brainy would need to rest under his restorative process longer than normal to get the full effect, which gave her just enough time to paint the perfect picture inside her dreams. Like watercolour on canvas, she willed a series of soft oranges, yellows and blues to spill forth onto the page, bleeding into each other like the hazy landscape of a liminal space. From there, she began to build, turning ink blots into hilltops, marking stars around every empty spot the paint left dry.

It kept her mind at work, her body at peace and, most importantly, it gave her the perfect dream destination to take Brainy once the restorative process was complete. Somewhere that rest on any level would come easily for them both.

All she had to do was wait.

#supergirl #brainiac 5 #nia nal #brainia #alex danvers #querl dox #supergirl fanfiction #my writing #anon #my asks #i wanted to expand on more headcanons about coluan sleep patterns. and this is sort of the opposite to a previous headcanon i once wrote #i think. but i think i like this one better. #brainy x nia #dreamdox #oh yeah and happy new year!

[mrsluthordanvers]

Supercorptober 2022

I did write a couple one-shots for supercorptober2022 but never posted. Better late than never, right!!

I had hoped I’d have more to post but writers block is still kicking my butt. I’m gonna leave it as unfinished bc I want to try to keep doing prompts in hopes of breaking through this block. So in no particular order, here you go!

Day 1 - Summer

Read on AO3

Kara loves every season. In fall the air feels fresh and crisp and perfect for flying. There’s cozy drinks and cozier sweaters. There’s halloween and thanksgiving - the beginning of all Kara’s favourite holidays and the perfect excuse to get together with friends and family. In winter there’s a sense of quiet that blankets the city, everything sounds softer, more muffled in winter. There’s ice skating and hot chocolate, and the city lights up in all different colours the closer it gets to christmas. There’s a sense of hope and new beginnings that comes every year at New Year’s that Kara absolutely loves. Then there’s spring with all the new life starting to come back, and the sun starts to get warmer and Kara knows that summer is right around the corner. The season of sunbathing as she floats on the wind. Late night bonfires and camping and surfing.

Kara loves every season, but she can’t think of any season she loves more than summer right now.

Not when Lena came already dressed for their impromptu trip to the beach. Objectively, she knows they all agreed to leave first thing this morning so it was unlikely that Lena would have a reason to come dressed in her trademark skirt and heels. But it never occurred to Kara that meant Lena would come dressed in something else instead.

It never occurred to her that going to the beach with Lena would mean going to the beach with Lena in a bathing suit. That it would mean seeing Lena in a bathing suit.

The bathing suit in question is relatively modest - a black one piece with a scooped neck. It’s the stark contrast against porcelain skin and the sheer cover-up tied around her waist that has Kara slowing to a pause midway through pushing her surfboard into the back of the jeep. Her hands slip on the smooth surface as she takes in Lena’s loose waves, her fingers twitching with the desire to sink into the dark locks and find out if it feels as thick and soft as it looks.

She can’t pull her eyes away as Lena pushes her hair back with her oversized sunglasses to meet Kelly with a hug and a laugh. Her eyes dance in the morning sun as she laughs at Kelly’s antics as she tugs at Lena’s skirt, turning her cheeks a lovely shade of pink.

Kara’s so busy watching Lena she completely misses Alex trying to load a second surfboard around her until the end accidentally hits her in the head.

“Hey!” Kara pouts as she rubs the back of her head dramatically and scowls at her sister.

“Oh come on, you barely felt that.” Alex brushes her off as she gives the surfboard one more shove and dusts off her hands looking proud of herself as she inspects the trunk.

Kara sticks her tongue out at the back of her sister’s head, blushing when she catches Lena watching her with a raised brow. Kara helplessly shrugs a shoulder as she tries not to look too embarrassed, grinning when Lena chuckles and turns back to Kelly.

She manages to finish loading her surfboard before she's distracted again. This time she stares at Lena without really looking at her, her figure becoming a blur in the background as she imagines Lena stretched out under an umbrella thumbing through a magazine. Probably something sciency that makes Kara want to try to distract her. She's so caught up in her daydream of all the ways she could distract Lena that she doesn't see the real one approaching her.

"Kara?" Lena's voice bleeds together with her daydream.

"Kara." The sharper tone makes Kara blink, slowly focusing on Lena's concerned face."Alex asked if you're ready to go. Are you okay?"

"Yup. Yeah. Peachy." Kara freezes, her back ramrod straight and eyes wide. "Not pea- yes, yeah, I'm ready. We should go."

Kara wrenches the jeep door open and waits expectantly for Lena to climb in. She tries not to watch as her friend slides across the seat before she clambers in without a thought, leaving Alex standing on the driveway holding out the set of keys she had begged Alex to give her earlier that morning.

"I don't think she cares about driving anymore." Kelly whispers dramatically as she fails to smother a smile and gives her wife's arm a loving squeeze.

Day 10 - Ice Day 12 - Evening Day 6 - Leaves

#supercorp #supercorptober2022 #supergirl #nemo writes #four is better than none right? right!? #god I hate having writers block #I just want to write in peace please and thank you #couldn't decide how to drop them all bc I usually do each prompt as a post bc they are so short #but I figured this was as good a way as any #might post the other ones here later

[hrwinter]

I just read your post regarding Lena’s inability to figure out Kara’s true identity and really loved your musings on the subject. Its a topic I see tackled in a lot of fanfics and usually with more depth and plausibility than the show ever gave us tbh.

I will say that the sick, evil, twisted part of my brain would LOVE to read a story similar to the plot line of the Identity Crisis comics: specifically where the JL mindwipes a villain (and subsequently Batman) when their secret identities are discovered. Like, imagine J’onn, Alex, et al get it into their heads that S2 Lena isn’t to be trusted and is a potential liability to Kara should she ever discover the Kara is Supergirl. So a suggestion is made about “altering” Lena’s mind in such a way to prevent her from putting two and two together: that Kara and Supergirl are the same person. I know it’s wildly OOC (and a very messed up premise), but like… just imagine Kara trying to reveal her identity to Lena and Lena still being unable to process it. THEN imagine Kara finding out what her friends and family did to her best friend (the same friend she’s been lying to for years) all in the name of “protecting” her. The angst just writes itself, no?

this is another excellent interpretation of how the show could've explained Genius Lena Luthor's inability to perform simple AI facial recognition. however it's funny you go angst because as i was reading this, i fully went comedy, like in the first men in black and how they have to keep wiping that poor morgue woman's memory. like there's 18 different security incidents at the DEO because kara keeps taking off her glasses to clean them at lunch with lena and every time they have to go wipe her mind again. i'd watch that.

#hr's askhole #more ways tumblr fans would write supergirl better than paid professional writers

[dancedance-resolution]

i started a supercorp portrait of a lady on fire au like three years ago. i'm never going to finish it, but the writing style is pretty cool, so i want to share it. so um enjoy the prologue and a bit of chapter one?

---

Prologue. Bonnelles, France. 1786.

“First, my contours,” Kara said, her voice soft and level. She looked out upon the dozen or so young women, their eyes darting back and forth from their papers to Kara herself. “The outline,” she continued. The increasingly swift sound of scratching charcoal prompted Kara to further instruct, “Not too fast. Take time to look at me.” She paused. “See how my arms are placed.”

At that moment, Kara saw the painting.

She swallowed and took in a breath; she schooled her expression before letting out the air with a pathetically soft “My hands.” Her students’ gaze followed her verbal direction, now observing as Kara’s fingers curled with remembrance. Their own hands now began to sketch the slope of hers—the slope that had once coaxed breathy moans from a lover, the slope that had once created that very painting in all of its hollow longing.

Kara felt her heart rate accelerating, and her attempts at calming deep breaths only made her shoulders shake unsteadily. “Who brought that painting out?” Her eyes darted around, landing on each possible offender, as she tensed her core and adopted a stern countenance.

Every student dutifully turned to look at the work.

It was an especially young girl who finally lifted her hand. “I brought it. From the stock room. Should I have not?”

Kara’s “no” felt like a brick, its weight threatening to pry tears from her reddening eyes. So Kara took another swallow, a handful of blinks, a few more steadying breaths.

“Did you paint it?” the girl asked innocently. Nia, her name was? She stared at Kara, oblivious to the flood of sound overwhelming Kara’s mind and echoing in the cavern of her heart.

“Yes,” Kara uttered softly, the word barely audible as they fell from her lips. “A long time ago.”

Nia’s head snapped back to examine the painting once more. It stood on an old but sturdy easel, tattooed and scarred but still standing. The artwork itself was brooding, with a white sun bleeding into a dark vignette. Heavy clumps of clouds occupied the sky and caged some of the sun’s rays, so the fire burning behind the woman was bright enough in comparison to create a dragging shadow of her figure. The flames crawled up the back of her windswept dress, bringing sharp tension to an otherwise lulling, melancholy landscape.

“What’s the title?”

The sound of the sea began to swell in Kara’s head. Her lips trembled. Her body unwittingly swayed slightly. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”

---

Chapter I. The island of Brittany, France, and the surrounding sea. 1779.

Kara squinted into the distance, her face scrunching up a bit as she desperately tried to shield her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun on the water. For all its gorgeous teals and sparkling peaks, it certainly did make her wish for one of those brimmed hats the rowers were all wearing. With every one of their paced paddles, the cork-like little canoe bobbed haphazardly. Kara rather felt as if she were in the wine glass of a thoroughly drunken Marie Antoinette.

At least she wasn’t prone to seasickness.

She still felt quite unsteady, though, being thrown about and forced to pathetically grab onto the boat’s low walls. She leaned forward, trying to regain her balance and ground herself despite the absence of ground.

The wooden pallet holding her canvas was, apparently, as unstable as she was, and the next thing Kara knew, it had been lurched off of the boat like vomit from a drunkard. Kara watched helplessly as it thrashed among the choppy waves, the sea carrying it a few feet from the boat.

The chief rower met her desperate look with exhausted resignation; he ceased his paddling as Kara shed her overcoat and placed a precarious foot on the edge of the canoe.

With a strained creak from the boat’s wood, she jumped into the water, dress billowing behind her. Her first gasp for air upon emerging from the water was audible; she could feel the effort in her throat. Her arms moved in laborious little arcs as she slowly made her way towards the floating pallet and finally made a desperate reach for it. Kara’s fingers grasped onto a wooden board, and she pulled herself up onto it with a grunt.

---

The incessant wind upon the sea was certainly not helping Kara. Dripping wet, she wrapped herself up in her overcoat in a pitiful plea for warmth. She held the edges of the garment up to her lips, the sensation of the dry fabric bringing her some comfort as she closed her eyes and left herself to the mercy of the mighty sea.

But the interminable rocking of the feeble boat wouldn’t allow her any rest.

Kara wasn’t very religious, not anymore. Yet, the sight of the cliffs and coast of Brittany moved her to relieved prayer.

---

The sun had already begun to set as Kara trekked up the sandy coast. Her legs ached with every stumbling, unsure step—maybe she was a bit seasick after all—and her hands were tired of having to grip her full skirt to keep it out of her way.

She paused on the rocks, taking a moment to manually wring some of the water out of her skirt. She filled her lungs with an arduous breath before slinging the rope holding the pallet over her shoulder. Next came the fabric sling, which housed her trunk of personal items—she positioned it on her back with careful poise.

The journey up the cliffs and towards the trees was exhausting. Kara’s skirt required repositioning every few seconds, the rope was digging into her shoulder, and the pallet and trunk slammed into her back with each wobbling step. By the time she reached the straight path up to the residence, her breaths were heavy and pained, and the sun was nearly fully hidden beneath the horizon.

A soft light emanated from the windows above the mansion’s door, helping Kara feel a bit more secure as she knocked. A short blonde woman answered her summon and introduced herself with a flat “I’m Eve.” She opened the door a bit wider and gestured with her body for Kara to come in.

Eve held a small candle as she guided Kara up the stairs, the sounds of their shoes echoing through the grand yet starkly undecorated hallway. The walls of the stairwell were cement bricks, and the wrought iron bannister was rather plain and geometric.

They came to a stop in front of a similarly void room, bare save a few heavy curtains and a daybed. The raised panels along these walls matched the white-painted wood of the window frames, and they gave the chamber some elegant character.

While Eve entered the comparatively less intimidating room, Kara stayed back a moment, taking in the shafts of muted blue light from the windows and the contrasting warm glow of leaping flames from the central fireplace.

Eve crouched down to poke at the fire as Kara set down her belongings. “It was a reception room,” Eve explained. “Though I’ve never seen it used.”

The fire crackled pleasantly. “Have you been here long?” Kara inquired.

“Three years,” Eve answered, directing her attention back to the fire.

Kara peeled off her overcoat and draped it along the wainscoting. “Do you like it here?”

“Yes,” Eve said simply as she stood up. She turned to Kara, meeting her eyes now as her hands smoothed over her skirt. “I’ll let you get dry.” And with a nod, she was on her way.

Kara watched her every step.

Once the door closed, she hastily began removing her overskirt. It fell to the dark herringbone floor with an unglamorous thud.

---

There was no method or grace to the way Kara wrapped her hand around the rusting crowbar, but with a few jerks, she’d managed to successfully pry the top off of the pallet.

After setting down the wood cover, Kara extended her hand, letting it fall clumsily onto the slick canvas in front of her. It was still wet, and her hand’s small circular movement caused moisture to pool at her fingertips, as if her touch had beckoned the water. So her hand withdrew, and Kara slid the canvas out from its container. Her eyes danced over the surface as she considered how to dry it, holding it in front of herself like the Communion host of an evening Mass.

---

Kara decided to accompany her drying canvas, which was now positioned next to the fireplace. Stripped naked, she sat in front of the fire and pulled her legs towards herself—she was vulnerable, sitting there bare and in a new environment, and the action made her feel a bit more small, compact, and safe.

Kara set down her candle so she could light her tobacco pipe with the flames. Her large, smoky exhales grounded her, in a way, with the familiar sight and smell acting as a sort of sedative. And she stared forward, expression blank but unmistakably worn.

---

Kara walked barefoot along the cement floor, making her way through the hall and to the pantry room wrapped in nothing but her robe-like smock.

#again i have no intention of finishing so be forewarned etc #supergirl #supercorp poalof au #i have been feeling a bit weird going through my old work bc. i don't think i've really improved in the three years since starting this??? #and i quite literally haven't written anything in 2023 other than like the 1000ish words to finish up this final chapter of tree of my song #&those thousand words genuinely feel worse than my old writing #because i'm out of practice i think #it's weird bc writing is something i think of as super important to me - like in less than a month i'll literally be at community college a #ain despite how bad my experience was last time with it bc i theoretically want to take classes that will make me a better writer #so like blah blah blah do i want to dedicate more of myself and my energy towards writing long term or do i just like the idea of being a #writer. #blah blah blah if i had to do a rose colored glasses on this all it would be. since january i have read 60something books and before this y #ar i hadnt been an avid reader in ages. and most of those books have been in the genre/niche i want to end up writing in #so i was learning writing by reading in that sense #hmm etc etc #i should probably stop taking myself and all of this so seriously lol idk #i'm theoretically back into writing and trying to prioritize it more again so (thumbs up emoji)

[vox-ex]

dancing in the dark

Supercorptober Day 12 “evening”

thanks to kmsdraws for the prompts

Lena falls in and out of love with dancing and Kara 

////

A lot of people would assume that Lena Luthor learned to dance from years of ballet lessons and forced dance recitals. But the truth is Lena learned to dance just before she turned four, perched barefoot on her mother's shoes. The music from an old radio softened by old oak floors and Irish summer winds, the two of them laughing and spinning as they twirled around the room until one of them finally fell down. Her mother died 10 months later. She didn't like to dance much after that. But, there are moments she almost does again. In the middle of her dorm room, her hands shaking to bad music and the feeling of her first kiss. With Jack in the garage behind his parent's house, drunk on cheap beer at two am, tired and simply wanting to share the world with someone else. But it was never something she thought about. Never something she thought she missed. Not until she met Kara Danvers.

Lena meets Kara, and Kara is always dancing. Even when she's just walking down the street or standing in her kitchen, she seems to be moving to some unheard rhythm. Later Lena will learn Kara likes to tune in and out of different songs, sometimes miles away. She will joke that Kara is like a broken AM/FM car radio but will also love her just a little bit more for it. But before all of that, Lena is still she is hesitant, still careful. With her heart, with her memories, with all of her.

So when Kara asks her to dance for the first time, she says no. The evening getting late, the usual pleasantries she'd had to handle during the gala were anything but. But Kara just gives her a small smile and gentle hug and says, "well, maybe some other time then." Like it's only an inevitability.

And it is.

The more crowded the room they find themselves in, the more they seem to find each other. Sometimes long enough to share an actual conversation. Sometimes long enough for Kara to make her laugh. But always just long enough for her to ask for a dance. It becomes their thing. Lena would find herself waiting for those moments. The evening would start getting late. The music would start getting slower, and she would look for Kara. And every time, she would find her one last time. And eventually, she found herself saying yes, reaching for Kara's hand before she could think about it anymore.

She felt clumsy at first. Awkward in a way that made her want to give up and go home. But Kara was patient with her. Asking permission with subtle movements if she could pull her just a little closer. Asking with a smile if it was okay to spin her just a little. She felt heavier and lighter all at once. She felt like laughing. She and Kara had become closer in the time they'd known each other, but it was different from knowing her like this. To feel her heartbeat as she steadies herself with a hand against her chest, to feel her breath brush past her ear as she dips her head to catch her own. Eventually, the music stops and they are left standing there together.

Lena begins to save a dance for Kara just in case she asks. 

She always does.

Until they fall apart.

Then there are no more galas.

No more evenings together.

No more waiting hands.

Until they find a way back together.

And then it becomes a way for them to move forward.

Evenings become afternoons that become mornings.

They dance in the middle of the day to a song Kara couldn't get out of her head. To music playing softly through Kara's living room after their first date when they aren't ready to go home yet. They move pressed together in the shower when the need to be close is too hard to ignore, Kara's gentle humming keeping time with the steady fall of water and their beating hearts. They stand on Lena's balcony, arms wrapping around each other as the distant sounds of the world outside come up from beneath them. And every time she feels that thing, you feel when you know you've fallen in love.

It becomes their way of moving through the world.

But it isn't until a late fall evening on a small street in Ireland a half a mile from where she used to dance with her mother that Kara suddenly stops in front of her, eyes wide and bright in the low light and hands fumbling just a little when they reach into the pocket of her dark wool coat when Lena finally gets to say yes to spending the rest of her life dancing with Kara Zor-El Danvers.

#supergirl #supercorp #supercorptober2022 #supercorptober #thanks for sticking with me #trying to get better writing all these soft fluffy feelings haha

[m-arahuyo]

gay fic writers be Normal about affection challenge. ssstop making me fall in love w yall. im gonna write love letters and propose to every single one of u

#my darlings the way yall Write i swear to god #the more spurned (see: queerbaited) the fandom the Better #i never even watched the 100 but i can feel the Longing in the fics #supergirl?? the 100?? hello???? #Yearning is a lifestyle

[onceiblinked]

If y'all are reading my fic that I don't remember the fucken name of/am too lazy to write, prepare yourself for an update with slightly better writing.

No, I don't know exactly when but maybe tonight

#supercorp #supergirl cw #supergirl #kara danvers #fanfic #wlw #abo fic #supercat #kalex #femslash related stuff #kid fic #messy relationships #cheating but not really #alex danvers #lucy lane #I don't remember the ship name #other ships #i don't remember #but if you know you know #writing gets better

[a-sjournals-posts]

I was thinking of rewatching supergirl once I finish rewatching Legends (including the 7th season that I've been avoiding for so long) but the truth is, I'm actually so scared to see them building and breaking Lena as a character. She's one of my personal favorites since I started watching supergirl, one of my classic favorite type along with Sara, Hope Mikaelson and Wynonna Earp (the girl who should be nothing but good but in the end is the force of goodness), but they didn't do her mercy like those other characters. But then I know that she is the force of good even if it often doesn't seem like it in the show. So.... Should I give this show another shot?

#lena luthor #supergirl #redemption arc #rewatch #this is what happens when I write supergirl fanfics #writing #sara lance #wynonna earp #hope mikaelson #the better than the rest hero

[luthordamnvers]

Hell was the journey (but it brought me heaven)

Chapter 6 - Control

Kara had been safe on Earth since she’d landed at the Danvers household. Jeremiah and Eliza always made sure that she knew how to behave like an average human American girl. From her grades, to her clothes, to the way she moved, faking clumsiness and cluelessness whenever necessary to not stand out, to not call attention to herself. She didn’t go to Harvard or Princeton, because her grades were average, like the average girl she was supposed to be, instead of a science prodigy, that with the knowledge she had at 13 years old, could have fundamentally changed science on Earth, and catapulted it to uncharted territories. Instead she went to National City University, got a degree in Marketing, worked at Noonan’s as a barista, and found herself with the record of Cat Grant’s longest standing personal assistant. Until her debut as National City’s hero. Not that she’d been hiding in her human identity until then, she had been a happy teen. As happy as a kid who lost her entire family, world, and sun could be. But she’d been denying parts of herself for years. After Supergirl, it wasn’t that she revealed everything about herself to everyone, but she felt more true to herself than the last twelve years she’d spent on Earth.  Her life kept changing, going from Ms. Grant’s personal assistant, to cub reporter, to star reporter, to Pulitzer winner and now Editor-In-Chief. From Superman’s cousin, to hero, to pariah, to Paragon of Hope, to savior of the multiverse, to inspiration. And yet, Kara had never felt freer than when she first told Lena she was Supergirl.

Continue Reading on AO3 || From the start

#supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorp fic #supercorptober #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #sc fic #fic writing #supercorptober 2023 #better late than pregnant #nicnic writes #[10]

[somanyfandomsbutimnotcomplaining]

10 reasons I can't get past season 2 of supergirl

10. (Look lower)

9. (No, lower)

8. (Keep going)

7. (Even lower)

6. (Keep going you're almost there)

5. (Still keep going)

4. (So close)

3. In the words of Cat Grant "trying to take on way too much way too fast"

2. Cat Grant leaves

1. Mon-el disappears and comes back MARRIED, like what the f*ck you little sh-

#supergirl #mon el x kara #mon el of daxam #mon el #season 2 #bad writing #cat grant #still bitter about it #you cannot change my mind #you cannot silence me #i speak the truth and you know it #dont even try it #cat grant rules #cat is the best honestly #mon el deserves better #so sad so sad #sadnees #my heart 😭😭😭😭 #karmel #katie is amazing #lena is great

[owl-with-a-pen]

on the subject of dark timeline Brainy, how do you think he got his other two life projectors in the first place? also I think Jesse said the first plan for Brainy getting the inhibitors off was for Lena to capture him and do brain surgery on him, so I feel like something like that would have happened in that universe, as opposed to it being a genuine moment of triumph over his fear of himself in the prime timeline

Oooo yes, this has been something that has stumped me for a long time!

With there being so little we know in canon about the dark timeline other than a very, very basic story of Lena's rise to power, it's hard to say how close the dark timeline was to the original at all. We know Lena's path diverged from it, but considering the whole team are present and accounted for in the dark timeline, a lot of things may have happened similarly. If Crisis happened and the universes converged, then it's possible Brainy did still meet his doppelgangers, but perhaps under far more... strenuous circumstances.

Invasive brain surgery is definitely the only way I can imagine Lena removing Brainy's inhibitors in the dark timeline. If she wanted him on her side, then she'd value him at his most functional. He was limited when his father inhibited him, so Lena would have had more than enough reason to want them gone. She would also, of course, benefit from a mouldable mind far removed from emotion, someone she could feel connected to without there being a danger for real connection. So, aligning him in a way that ensured his intellect still prospered would have been her number one priority.

For all we know, the other life projectors are just cosmetic in the dark timeline, or maybe they're Lena's own version of an inhibitor to keep Brainy in check. Although, I am tempted towards the grim chance that in this timeline, Brainy's doppelgangers still appeared to him, but at a point where he was already under Lena's control.

Harnessing the added lifeforce of two other Brainy's to hers to make him stronger, smarter, better in every conceivable way? He'd be the perfect puppet, the perfect enforcer of her rule. There's something very poetic about Brainy wearing his soul on his chest and, in the same sense, there's a lot to say about that soul glowing blood red in the dark timeline.

So, if they are Brainy's doppelgangers, then let's just say that I don't think they gave themselves over to Brainy willingly in that timeline...

#supergirl #brainiac 5 #dark timeline #my asks #cyclone-rachel #not writing #maybe lena even found a way to bring variants of brainy to her to make him stronger #there's a lot of what-ifs but the angstier the better imo 😉