Ok have not posted in a long ass time but I need some help from you wonderful tumblr nerds. I know y’all have psychic crazy good skills at finding ppl so I need this author found and revived and failing that I need someone brilliant to finish this fanfic off please for the love of god I’m so desperate to know how the rest of the story goes.
It’s called tossing stones by princess Alexandria and there’s a second fic but it’s unfinished so I need help finding the author and persuading them to please finish it or give it to some other writer who will do it justice
Tumblr people help me please, share, re log whatever I just need this fix to be finished
- scene shows Luz sat in a therapists office foot tapping anxiously as she finishes telling the therapist everything that happened in the boiling isles -
“…and once Belos and the Collector were defeated my mom and Eda agreed I should talk to someone about everything that happened, apparently overthrowing an evil witch-hunting emperor and stopping a super powered child from killing you and everyone you love gives you a lil bit of trauma” Luz chuckles awkwardly doing some shaky jazz hands as she says the word trauma.
She sighs, all the nervous energy seems to dissapear as she deflates inward. Her Palisman nudges her cheek and curls up in her lap offering support, it wears a small hand sewn red vest with various patches on it and the words ‘SERVICE ANIMAL’ written in bold. Luz strokes the small creature and takes a deep breath before continuing.
“I know it sounds unbelievable but it’s true, there is a demon realm and magic is real and I know you probably don’t believe me or even know how to help me but it does feel good to tell someone about it all without feeling guilty about burdening them with my problems. Don’t get me wrong my friends are great, my mum has been so supportive and my girlfriend amity has really helped! But I just feel like I can’t talk to them honestly about it all because they all have their own problems going on ya know?”
Luz shakes her head smiling bashfully
“Well I suppose you don’t know, I mean no offence, but what would you know about alternate dimensions and evil overlords”
Luz finally looks up at her therapist expecting laughter or worry to be on the others face, I mean any other person would think she’s insane. All this talk of draining spells and demons would make anyone think that she’d lost her mind. However instead of seeing judgement or shock, she sees the woman opposite her smiling at her warmly albeit with a knowing look in her eye.
“Luz I think it sounds like you have a brilliant support network in place, and although you should never feel like you are burdening your friends and family I’m glad that you reached out and are trying to get extra support, it’s a really hard step to take and asking for help can be really scary so I want you to know how proud I am of you. I think we will end todays session here as it is only an introductory one, next week we can delve into it a bit more deeply if your comfortable with that?”
Luz nods looking relieved and a little drained and gathers her belongings.
“Oh and kiddo?”
Luz turns back and looks at the other woman
“My alternate realm trip envolved frogs not demons, and I’m well versed in evil overlords”
The therapist winks at a very stunned Luz, the younger girl opens her mouth a million questions on the tip of her tongue when her phone buzzes letting her know her mum is outside waiting for her. She looks back at the older woman seeming conflicted, the therapist just grins back and winks.
“A story for another time kid, now scram I’ll see you in our next session”
Luz grins back, feeling a little more hopeful and a little eager for the next appointment. Her palisman sits on her shoulder and gives the therapist a little wave goodbye as they turn to leave the office.
“Oh almost forgot thank you for the session Dr Waybright!”
Luz says , she looks at her therapist seeing the woman in a whole new light. She wonder if the scar on her cheek was gained the same way she gained her own scars. Luz notices for the first time the little toad and frog memorabilia scattered around the room. Did they represent companions? Palisman? Did that realm even have palisman? She shakes her head a little, stopping her little thought spiral, looking at the woman again she also notices two pride pins on the blonde’s jacket. The bisexual flag makes her grin as does the polyamorous flag. The older woman clears her throat and raises her eyebrow at Luz seeming amused at the scrutiny in which she is being examined with. The girl squeaks embarrassedly, flushing red and mutters out an apology. She turns and tries to bolt for the door, tho in typical clumsy fashion she smacks straight into it. She turns back to face the concerned woman before nervously rushing out a quick goodbye and all but running out of the office.
Dr Waybright shakes her head smiling to herself, she picks up her notebook and places it on her desk before turning to look at the framed photo sitting next to her laptop. She picks it up, lovingly tracing the faces of her two girlfriends, Marcy Wu and Anne Boonchuy. Her phone buzzes with an incoming group call.
“Speak of the devil”
Sasha mutters to herself before accepting the call.
“Hey girls…yeah I’m doing good…yeah new client…she reminds me a little of both of you…apparently we aren’t the only ones to travel dimensions…Mar Mar you know I can’t talk about it, client confidentiality and all that but maybe one day I’ll bring her to meet you guys, I think it would help her to know others have gone through something similar to her…no no frogs Boonchuy apparently it was demons and witches…yeah I’m still on for date night tonight I’ll see you girls in a bit….yes I love you both too”
Sasha rolls her eyes affectionately then hangs up and grabs her bag. She knows her girlfriends have tons of questions but that they respect that there isn’t much she can talk about and that they will wait until the kid feels comfortable enough to open up to more people about it.
“Witches and demons huh, amphibia is starting to look not so bad after all”
She smiles to herself and closes the door to her office behind her.
———————————————————————
Notes:
Hey so had this idea one night and needed to write it down. I believe that owl house takes place towards the end of the 10 years later gap at the end of amphibia as on the news at the airport the reporter talks about the “frog girl hoax” which is the same headline we see on Camilla’s iPad at the end of season 2 of owl house when Luz returns home. Which makes me totally believe that at some point after whatever is gonna happen in season 3 Luz and Sasha meet as therapist and patient and maybe the gang meet the rest of the older girls too!
🌈 Requests are free and welcomed in 2022! If you want to see a pride flag not seen here, feel free to drop a message and I’ll make one and put it in the store! 🌈
For the guy whose aro friend is really into clams, this one’s for you: [X] [X]
If you're still accepting prompts #5 for supercorp?? Please.. no pressure.. have a good day!!!
When Kara gets an invitation to Andrea’s latest art gala, her friends all reach an unanimous decision to RSVP “no fucking chance” via every available avenue.
It would have been creative, really, and impressive—that is, if Nia hadn’t gotten banned from the post office as a result. So in the end it was just a nice thought, if a misguided one; really, Kara is used to Andrea’s antics by now. They had broken up two months ago, but Andrea seemed intent on showing off every chance she could that she had moved on. Kara has never accused her of doing it to be cruel, but she has to admit, sometimes she fantasizes about showing up to one of Andrea’s events with someone else to show she has moved on as well. Just, you know, to even the score. (If they were keeping score).
But she shows up dateless all the same, and everyone is still aghast she showed up at all, but Kara has always been a firm believer of taking the high road even if Andrea won’t. And Alex tags along, if only to glower at Andrea any chance she gets, until she gets distracted by a pretty girl at the bar and Kara ends up alone just as she anticipated.
Well, she consoles herself, at least the buffet is always here to keep her company.
“Excuse me,” a sudden voice to her right suddenly interrupts the slow-motion movie in Kara’s head that has focused mostly on cream puffs. “Are you Kara Danvers?”
“Yeah?” Kara adjusts her glasses and squares her shoulders, already prepared to face the person Andrea has sent to be her “greeter”—she has a habit of sending someone to escort Kara to personally come say hi to her and her new girlfriend, as if she’s too busy to come across the room herself.
“I thought I recognized you,” says the stranger before her. “I’m Lena, I’m—”
“Andrea’s friend,” Kara fills in the blanks, slightly stunned. “Hi.” She’d heard about Lena Luthor, the mysterious boarding schoolmate turned actress, but had never met her before.
“I always meant to come introduce myself, but…” Lena trails off, and the unspoken but then Andrea broke up with you remains unsaid. “Anyway, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I came over here, I was…”
“Curious?” Kara offers, and she feels the corner of her mouth twitch with the effort to withhold a self-pitying laugh. “I know, it’s weird. Here I am, at my ex’s party, just trying to stock up on as much free food as I can. I understand if you want to call security.”
Lena Luthor has a very stoic demeanor which must be a product of practiced professionalism, but when Kara says that, a laugh kind of erupts from her mouth; it’s simultaneously undignified and endearing all at once. “Oh, God, I’m sorry—I just, I have no doubt you don’t want to be here. I know Andrea makes it her mission to flaunt her success to everyone.”
“I guess,” Kara shrugs, “but I could have said no.”
“No, you couldn’t have,” Lena disagrees, and her eyes are undoubtedly searching as they meet Kara’s, her gaze heavy but warm. “I’ve been there, I know what she’s like.”
Kara tugs at the knot of her tie, suddenly wishes it were a bit looser, and then sighs. “Yeah,” she says quietly. “Sometimes I wish I could give her a taste of her own medicine, you know? To—” And then it dawns on her. It’s something Alex would thump her over the head for, and it’s the kind of idea that Nia would wholeheartedly agree on. “Hey. Are you single?”
Lena gives her an odd look. “What?”
“Wait, that’s not what it sounds like,” Kara is quick to assure her. “I meant—if you’re single, and willing, would you maybe want to pretend you’re my girlfriend?”
“Me?” Lena has very green eyes, mesmerizingly green really, and it’s hard for Kara to even form words when they’re trained on her. “That feels kind of…petty.”
Kara deflates. “You’re right,” she mumbles. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Kara, there you are.” Winn, who must be the unfortunate courier of bad news this evening, arrives short of breath. “Andrea wanted me to tell you hi for her. Or, er, she wants me to invite you to…say hi to her? I don’t even know what she’s asking.”
“We do,” Lena cuts in, and before Kara can even blink, there is a hand holding hers, intertwined fingers and all; Lena smiles sideways at her, just about level in her heels, and her smile is so stunningly pretty that Kara can only blink back in response. “Shall we, darling?”
“Um,” Kara says very ineloquently in response, and Winn’s eyes just about pop out of his head. “Okay.”
It is very strange to hold someone’s hand, Kara decides, when you don’t know the person. Lena’s hand is soft and just edging on cold, as if she’d been outside too long before arriving, and all Kara can do is agonize over whether her hand is sweaty.
Andrea is waiting by the orchestra, quite predictably, with her new girlfriend and acting as if she hadn’t expected Kara to walk up to her at all. “Kara, hi,” she says, and normally this is the time she would schmooze and smile without teeth, batting her eyes and stressing how nice it is that Kara could make it. But when she spots Lena—namely, Lena holding Kara’s hand—her smile freezes on her face. “Lena, I didn’t know you were coming. We didn’t see your RSVP.”
Lena tilts her head just so, smiling just bright enough to be polite. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she says, and lets go of Kara’s hand as if practiced to rest against the lapel of her suit jacket. “Kara’s invite had a plus one, so I assumed I could just come with.”
“Of course,” Andrea says tightly. “Though I must say, I didn’t even know you two knew each other.”
“Well, we have you to thank,” Kara says without even thinking, without even forming a story, and judging by the way Lena’s eyebrows raise she is thinking the same thing. “I was, um, working a shoot and Lena was there and she recognized me, from pictures you showed her? So we started talking. And here we are.” Then, because she’s sure she needs to play up the romance, she slides her own hand against Lena’s waist—a mistake for her own sanity, because Lena is in a quite form-fitting red dress and Kara gets a little too distracted when she looks at it.
“You make us sound so dull,” Lena tuts, and her eyes sparkle with a challenge when Kara looks at her. “She won’t admit it, but she was so tongue-tied when we met. Completely head over heels.”
“Okay but who wouldn’t be?” Kara dares her right back, feeling more brazen, and Lena quirks an eyebrow as if intrigued.
“I thought you were cute too, I suppose,” Lena says, and she sways into Kara’s embrace, which causes Kara’s heart to beat embarrassingly quick. “Even if you almost dropped a backdrop on my head.”
“I apologized for that,” Kara plays along, relieved that Lena’s far better at crafting a story; she has never seen Lena act in anything, but knows she has to be Oscar-worthy for this performance alone.
Andrea pointedly clears her throat. “How nice,” she says flatly, looking annoyed, and Kara had nearly forgotten that she’s here.
“Well great party, Andrea,” Kara says. “And thank you for having us, but we have to run—I promised Lena a dance.”
“Lena doesn’t dance,” Andrea says sharply, but Lena is already nodding along with Kara’s excuse.
“What can I say,” Lena says cheerfully, “she brings out the dancer in me.”
Kara has to pretend to cough, then, because that is such an awful line, and Lena pinches her wrist when no one is looking, and really it’s a miracle they manage to get away before Andrea realizes this is all a ruse. In fact, the instant they’re back at the buffet, they exchange a single look and immediately burst into laughter.
“Thank you, for that,” Kara says afterwards, shyly taking a step back when she notices she’s still lingering too close.
“It was your idea, I just brought it to life,” Lena says. “Though you really had me digging for my improv notes, because your storytelling leaves a lot to be desired.”
“I tend to think before I speak sometimes,” Kara admits sheepishly. “Which, uh, I’m sorry about. You know, because the dancing thing…” She pauses. “You don’t have to dance with me though. I’ll just pretend I got an urgent call or something, and Winn can pass on the message that I left.”
“You forget that I’m your date for the evening, now,” Lena warns. “If you leave I’m practically obligated to leave with you.”
“Right, I didn’t think of that.” And with Lena staring back at her, her expression soft and curious, Kara feels brave again. “Well…do you drink coffee?”
“I do,” Lena says, angling just a bit closer, and Kara smiles.
“I know a great coffee shop in the area,” she says. “And they don’t care if we show up looking like this.”
“Are you asking me on an actual date?” Lena bites her bottom lip just coyly enough that Kara knows she’s not opposed to the suggestion, which is what prompts her to respond,
“Yes,” without so much as a pause. “And I can promise I won’t almost-drop anything on your head in this scenario.”
“Well I’d hope so,” Lena says, and Kara laughs, and really it’s the strangest outcome that Kara could have never anticipated. And yeah, it’s as awkward as any first date already, Kara blushing too much and Lena fiddling with her hands as they walk, but—it’s also just about the best night of Kara’s life.
“So why didn’t you RSVP?” Kara thinks to ask, just as they reach the front door, and Lena scrunches her nose in confusion.
“I told my assistant to RSVP for me, I’m not sure what happened,” she says. “I saw her leave to the post office myself.”
“Oh,” Kara says, grimacing. “That wouldn’t have been the one off of 37th street, would it?”
“Yes, actually. How’d you know?”
Kara thinks of Nia’s ban, and the fact that letters are oh-so-flammable, and just shakes her head. “Let’s just say it’s never arriving,” she says, and Lena gives her a confused look, but Kara reaches for her hand again and then everything else kind of fades away.
(Even Alex—who they pass on the way outside—and her shout of, “Kara, what the fuck,” melts into the symphony of car honks and police sirens and shouts of passerby as Kara and Lena disappear into the cool night air).
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Lex Luthor, Alex Danvers, Eliza Danvers, Jeremiah Danvers, James “Jimmy” Olsen, Winn Schott Jr., Mon-El (Supergirl TV 2015), Streaky the Supercat
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Roommates, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kara Danvers Loves Food, Kara Danvers Loves Lena Luthor, Lena Luthor Loves Kara Danvers, Kara Danvers Needs a Hug, Useless Lesbian Kara Danvers, Gay Mess Lena Luthor, Protective Lena Luthor, POV Kara Danvers
Summary:
‘Your roommate. Is she hot?’
‘Winn!’ James bellows.
‘What? Kara could put in a little word for me if-‘
‘I guess she, eh, yeah she is very beautiful. But I wouldn’t really know, of course, I’m not into women.’
‘We know. You tell us that every time you call another woman beautiful. You don’t have to convince us, you know.’ Winn says with a smirk.
Or
Kara is definitely not gay and definitely doesn’t have a crush on her roommate.
She utilizes the lifetime of focus she’s dedicated to controlling her emotions until her heart was made up of little boxes, and wills her body to reach that blissful, blank moment.
Her eyes squeeze shut and she closes her mind to the dangerous possibilities threatening to bloom in her imagination.
Instead she concentrates on the feel of Jack’s hands on her hips, on the taste of scotch on her tongue, on the rhythmic thumping of the headboard against the wall. She lets herself move, slow and languid, in a practiced motion that’s a little bit too familiar to get the job done.
Lena breathes in harshly, nostrils flaring, and she does not think.
-
When he’s finished, Jack rolls out of bed and goes to clean up, pressing a scratchy kiss to her temple before he leaves.
Lena lays in bed, sheet tangled around her torso, and stares up at the stark white ceiling. She watches the smooth blades of the fan turning overhead and ignores the lingering thrum in her veins that comes from an unfulfilled orgasm.
She tries to remember the last time she had one and can’t help but laugh when she finds that she can’t.
When Jack slides back between the sheets, still in his well worn Yale t-shirt that remained on the whole time, she bites back a sigh. A quick roll out of bed, a few minutes in the bathroom to clean between her thighs and brush her teeth, and then it’s over.
Jack is already asleep by the time she returns.
-
“— and I told her that it didn’t matter what the other kid said, she’s not allowed to drop the F bomb at school. Not, that I’m not a little bit proud—“
Lena loves Sam but she is absolutely not listening at all. She nods along absently to the latest Ruby story, and swirls her straw around in the glass of her gin and tonic.
Normally she wouldn’t have more than one mimosa at brunch, but she’s tightly wound with a headache threatening the corner of her left temple, so concessions must be made.
The cafe is busy for a Tuesday afternoon, with couples and families packed around each little table. Sam is wholly focused on her spinach egg white omelette and tale of teenage rebellion, but Lena’s attention has wandered elsewhere.
Two tables down a pale woman with cropped red hair is fiddling with a velvet box. She looks nervous, dark eyes darting around as if on the lookout for someone. A minute later ‘someone’ appears in the form of a beautiful woman with shiny dark hair and warm brown skin.
The redhead fumbles to shove the little box back into the pocket of her leather jacket, before standing up to greet her with a quick kiss.
Lena looks away, back to Sam who has stopped talking and is watching her with raised eyebrows and a mouthful of egg.
“I’m sorry, what?” Lena asks before taking a long sip of her drink in an effort to cool the blush threatening to rise on her neck.
Sam remains unimpressed but curious.
“I asked if you guys are coming to the gala. That thing for the new LGBT youth center that we’re donors for? Jess said you never filled out the RSVP.”
“Oh. Right. The gala,” she says noncommittally, straw still tucked between her lips as she takes another lengthy sip. She can feel the gin starting to swirl in her veins, warming the tops of her thighs and the tips of her fingers against the cool glass.
Sam’s eyebrows raise impossibly higher.
“What’s up with you?”
“Nothing,” Lena says too quickly, sliding a placid work-perfected smile onto her face that she knows Sam can see right through. “Of course we’ll be there. I’ll make sure to let Jess know today.”
-
She doesn’t let Jess know. They miss the gala.
Instead they stay home.
Lena drinks half a bottle of red wine and pages through her well worn copy of Wuthering Heights, while Jack spends three hours on the phone with a business associate from Stockholm.
He’s still on the phone when she goes to bed, and two hours later, as he slides in next to her and presses a warm hand against her hip in a silent question, she pretends to be asleep.
-
“Miss Luthor?” Jess pokes her head in the office door, earpiece dangling over one shoulder and a pen tucked into her neat bun.
“Your two o’clock is here. Should I send her in?”
Lena sighs, and begins slipping her stocking clad feet back into her heels, already mentally preparing for whatever onslaught of invasive questions this reporter is planning to ask. She hates giving interviews, but L-Corp is lousy with bad press that’s lingered after Lex, and Andrea has promised her it will be an inoffensive puff piece.
“Sure, thanks. Will you order in from that new Greek place? I missed breakfast and Sam says it’s to die for. Just get what you think I’ll like, and whatever you want for yourself.”
Jess gives a curt nod and disappears back through the door. Before it can click closed a hand is pressing it open again, and a woman is stepping through.
She’s wearing forest green chinos that show the ankles above her leather loafers and a slightly wrinkled white button down shirt that makes her look like a spitting image of an eager young reporter. Blonde hair is pulled back into a french braid, but Lena can see the little flyaways starting to escape near the frames of her glasses as she reaches to push them up her nose.
Lena stares.
“Hi, Miss Luthor! Thanks for agreeing to meet with me. I know you must be a very busy woman,” the reporter says with a bright smile that wrinkles the corners of her eyes. She closes the distance to Lena’s desk and extends a hand across it for a customary hand shake.
Lena stares at her hand.
“Um,” the reporter says once the staring has gone on for an uncomfortably long time, and it’s enough to snap Lena into action.
She dons a plastic smile and presses their palms together for a quick shake. Their hands are almost the same size and in a moment of clear insanity Lena wonders what it would be like to hold them together to see who’s fingers are the longest.
She snatches her hand back.
“I’m Kara Danvers,” the reporter presses on through the awkwardness but Lena can see a slight flush in the apples of her cheeks, and it makes her feel embarrassed by her own behavior.
“Lena Luthor,” she says automatically, which makes Kara chuckle and once again reach up to adjust her glasses.
She knows that, idiot. Your name is on the desk and the door and the building.
“Right,” Kara says mercifully. She takes a seat on one of the chairs across from Lena’s and pulls out a pen and paper from the battered messenger bag dangling at her hip.
“So, Miss Luthor. What can you tell me about L-Corp’s latest foray into smart car technology?”
The interview consists of fifteen minutes of Lena rattling off the well rehearsed company line while Kara takes detailed notes with a purple pen that has a pompom dangling from the top.
She watches the little fuzzy ball swing back and forth as Kara writes, and does not look at the way her fingers flex with each stroke of pen against paper.
“Great! I think I’ve got what I need,” Kara says and Lena’s eyes snap up from her hands to her face so quickly that it startles them both. She sucks a deep breath in through her nose, nostrils flaring, and re-affixes her most boring smile on her lips.
“Thanks for your time, Miss Luthor.”
“Please, call me Lena,” she doesn’t know why she says it. It’s not like they’re going to see each other again. It’s not like she’s spent the last thirteen of fifteen minutes wondering what it might sound like if Kara Danvers said her name.
She hasn’t.
Kara’s smile widens into another eye crinkling grin as she tucks her pen and notepad back into her bag.
“Lena,” she says simply and yeah, it sounds good.
-
Lena eats half of her spinach and feta salad, drinks two glasses of scotch, and goes home early. Jess asks her if she’s joking when she lets her know to clear the rest of her schedule for the day, but is silenced by a single stern eyebrow.
-
Jack comes home smelling of tequila and cigar smoke after a long meeting with some investors, and Lena wrinkles her nose when he leans down to kiss her.
She pushes him into the master bathroom and strips him of his tie, unbuttoning his shirt with slightly trembling fingers. Their kisses taste like smoke and a swirl of alcohol.
He comes twice in the shower before leaving her alone to clean up with a cheeky grin.
“What’s gotten into you?” he laughs, pressing a towel to his wet hair while trying not to let water pool on the expensive bathroom rug.
Lena steps under the spray of the shower head and cranks the heat up until it’s steaming.
“I just love you,” she says around a mouthful of burning water. The shower door slides closed when he leaves to get dressed, still laughing.
Lena stands under the water until it runs cold.
-
One of the perks of having a boyfriend who cares about football is having every channel available in the satellite package. It’s the only perk really, other than the occasional quiet Sunday she gets when Jack goes to watch the games live with his friends.
Lena’s not one to watch much television, but she’s on her third cup of coffee and her eyes can’t focus enough to finish her book, so she drops onto the sofa and flips it on.
When she and Lex were kids Lillian made them watch their allotted hour of Saturday morning cartoons in French. She called it immersion and Lena has only been grateful for it once in her life, when she was drunk and lost on the streets of Lyon during spring break her sophomore year of college.
She flips past the many sports channels, the evening news, and more than a few telenovelas, before settling absently on the first movie channel she comes across.
When she realizes it’s a foreign film she can practically hear Lillian’s smug “immersion” speech echoing in her ears but it’s quickly silenced as the film draws her attention.
On the screen a woman is submerged in a porcelain tub, while a second woman sits beside her. Lena’s not paying enough attention to read the subtitles, because suddenly one woman’s finger is in the mouth of the other, and it’s unbearably intimate.
She stares at the screen and feels something hot stir in her chest and in her eyes. Blinking rapidly she smashes her thumb down on the return channel button until the screen flickers back to sports, and then turns off the tv.
Lena’s not one to watch much television, anyway.
When Jack comes home, face half painted in team colors and spirits high from the night’s victory, Lena claims she has work to do and locks herself away in her office until he goes to bed.
-
Lena is not an idiot, even if she feels like one sometimes, specifically when too focused on a stranger’s hands to form coherent sentences.
She’s a certified genius, with three degrees, a PhD, and a fortune 500 company to run. She’s smart, and she’s not ashamed to admit it.
There are things she is ashamed to admit though. Things she wishes she didn’t know, that threaten to disrupt the more or less comfortable life she has worked so hard to build for herself.
She has an amazing career, a beautiful home, a few good friends, and a loving boyfriend who has his own life and doesn’t bother her too much with things she could care less about.
Lena has everything a girl could ask for, but sometimes it feels like someone else’s life she’s living.
-
After one particularly gruesome meeting in which she has to fire an otherwise brilliant scientist for turning out to be a sexist pig, Jess makes her take a break.
Even a workaholic like Lena Luthor cannot object to the sound of a midday coffee break, especially after the morning she’s had, so she agrees. She trades her stilettos for the pair of white Adidas she keeps in the bottom drawer of her desk, making sure the bottoms of her slacks don’t drag, and she heads to the nearest Noonan’s.
The walk is brisk and the fresh air feels good on her face, helping to wash away some of the tension that’s taken up residence on her forehead in a way that would make her mother tsk about wrinkles.
Inside the coffee shop is warm, packed with people all clamoring for their mid afternoon caffeine fix. She queues up behind a tall man in a neat blue button up and tries not to be impatient as the line crawls slowly forward.
She’s third from the front when a familiar voice catches her attention from behind.
“Lena?”
She knows who it is before she even turns around, having had that same voice saying her name echoing in her head on late nights when her insomnia takes hold and she’s too exhausted to fight it.
She briefly wonders what the social acceptability of sprinting from a busy coffee shop is, before turning around with a neutral expression.
“Hello, Miss Danvers.”
“Oh, pfft. Please,” Kara waves a hand. “Call me Kara.”
Kara.
Her chinos and button down have been replaced with soft dark jeans and white t-shirt. Lena’s eyes widen slightly when she sees long, toned arms poking out from beneath short sleeves, one hand tucked into the strap of her messenger bag while the other folds itself into her pants pocket.
Oh.
“It’s nice to see you again, Kara,” she drags her eyes away from the swell of Kara’s bicep with what feels like a Herculean effort and there, that sounded normal. Borderline friendly even, considering the stoic mask she’s fighting to keep in place.
Kara beams and it’s a little bit like staring directly into the sun at noon on the fourth of July.
Lena can’t help but smile back, a real smile, and that same sunlight spills into Kara’s eyes.
“Getting coffee?” Kara asks before freezing slightly, looking like she wants to admonish herself for asking a question with such an obvious answer. “I mean, of course you are. This is a coffee shop, where they sell coffee. For drinking.”
“For drinking,” Lena repeats and the coffee shop, where they sell coffee for drinking feels like it grows ten degrees hotter.
“Are you going to drink your coffee here?” Kara asks, turning almost shy as the fingers wrapped around the strap of her bag tighten slightly, knuckles flashing white against the dark leather, and Lena wishes she could do something to make herself stop staring at this woman’s hands at every available opportunity.
“I—”
“Ma’am?”
It’s the barista calling to her from behind the counter. She turns to see that the line has moved without her noticing, and she’s now holding up the queue in a way that she would absolutely despise if someone else had the audacity to try.
She glances back at Kara with an apologetic smile and moves up to the counter, ordering her usual red eye in the largest size available. As the barista begins to write her name on a paper cup, she turns back around to Kara and raises an eyebrow.
“What’re you having?”
Kara’s lips part and she looks like she might refuse, but Lena simply gestures toward the counter where the barista is now waiting on them once again. He’s a young kid with hair pulled back into a long ponytail and he looks wholly unimpressed by whatever is happening on their side of the counter.
“One large white chocolate mocha with extra whip, please. Oh, and a donut!”
Once Lena has paid and they’ve shuffled over to the designated waiting area Lena finds she has no idea what to say. Kara is standing beside her, close in the small space left by the crowd of people, and Lena can feel the heat of her bare arm against her sleeve.
“So, um. Did you maybe want to have coffee with me?” Kara asks, and she’s smiling nervously like maybe she spent the last five minutes working up the courage to ask.
Lena finds that she very much does want to, more than she has wanted anything in a long time.
“I’m sorry, I have to get back to work.”
Kara’s face falls and something in Lena wants to reach out and touch her face until it’s smiling again. She tucks her fingers into the sleeves of her blouse and puts on what she hopes passes for an apologetic smile.
Before Kara can respond the barista is calling their names and they’re moving to collect their drinks. They reach for their cups at the same time and when their knuckles brush Lena jerks back so suddenly that she almost spills her boiling hot coffee directly onto Kara’s jeans.
In an instant there are strong fingers on her forearm, holding her steady and Lena looks down at the point of contact. She can feel it through her sleeve like a burn.
“I have to go.”
She doesn’t wait for Kara to respond. Doesn’t look up at her confused face or back at the barista who seems a little more interested in their presence now or at any of the five people she bodily shoves past in an effort to make it to the door.
Lena leaves Noonan’s with Kara’s touch burning her arm and hot coffee burning her hand and she doesn’t look back at all.
-
“How did you know you were a lesbian?”
Sam’s glass of wine pauses halfway to her mouth before slowly lowering back to the coffee table. She leans back against the couch cushions and regards Lena carefully, brown eyes tracking every inch of her face in a way that makes her instantly regret asking.
It’s not a subtle question. They both know what it means.
“When I was seven and I saw Catherine O’Hara in Beetlejuice for the first time,” she replies slowly. In any other setting she would have cracked it like a joke, but there’s an air of seriousness settling over them, brought on by Lena’s fingers digging into the throw pillow on her lap and her inability to meet Sam’s eyes.
“That explains every woman you have ever dated.”
“Yes, it does,” Sam agrees, finally reaching over to pick up her wine. “I have excellent taste.”
Lena just hums, digging into the pillow like if she tries hard enough she might be able to crawl inside of it.
Sam watches her for a minute, sipping at her wine thoughtfully.
“You know you can tell me anything right,” she says after a time and the words bring an unwelcome flood of tears to Lena’s eyes that she tries and fails to blink away. She can only watch helplessly as drops fall onto the fabric of the pillow in her lap, staining the light blue material in dark splotches.
She sucks in a breath and then releases it, slow and shaky.
“I think I have been unhappy for a very long time.”
Sam lifts a hand as though to put it on Lena’s knee in some offering of comfort, but when she shakes her head no it returns to her lap. Lena reaches up to brush away her traitorous tears and when she looks back up at her best friend her eyes are rimmed in red.
“What would make you happy?”
It’s such a simple question with such a complicated answer that Lena has to laugh. It comes out low and barky, catching in her throat like a cold. She finally releases her death grip on the pillow and sets it on the couch between them, choosing instead to curl her arms over her chest.
“I’ve worked too hard for this life to throw it away over something as trivial as happiness.”
“Oh, Lena,” Sam says with heartbreak in her voice. She knows the Luthor way better than anyone not included in the family, and Lena can see the pity in her eyes.
“Just forget it. Forget I said anything, please.”
Lena never asks for anything which leaves Sam with no choice but to relent, nodding slowly. When Lena leaves Sam’s house five minutes later with a resigned expression and tear tracks drying on her cheeks, she has no choice but to watch her go.
-
“Babe? Have you seen my keys?” Jack’s voice rings out through the house. A moment later his knuckles tap against the bathroom door. “Lena? My keys?”
“They’re on the kitchen counter,” she calls, trying to keep her voice from shaking. There’s a small pause before he responds.
“You okay?”
Lena stares down at her phone, the app she uses to track her period blinking ‘three days late’ up at her in bold pink letters.
“I’m fine.”
-
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Luthor. I’ve got your results.”
She’s wearing a paper thin hospital robe with her fingers digging into her thighs and a calm expression on her face. She gives a short nod and awaits the inevitable, feeling her life slip slowly away one heartbeat at a time.
The doctor sits on a rolling stool and flips through the papers attached to his clipboard before looking up at her with a controlled expression, perfectly practiced through years of delivering bad news. She’s almost a little jealous.
“You’re not pregnant. The urine and blood tests both came back negative.”
Lena stills, blinking back at him with blank green eyes.
“Excuse me?”
“Delayed menstruation can be brought on by a variety of factors. Have you been under any extra stress lately?”
She laughs a little hysterically.
“Maybe a little. I have a lot of responsibilities.”
“Well, consider this one less for now.”
He gives her a polite smile and then slips from the room, giving her privacy to put her clothes back on. She blinks a few more times, staring after him at the closed door.
Another laugh crawls its way from her chest, long and louder than she’s laughed in years. Her chest is bursting with something, a swirl of relief and joy and what might be something like shock . In her chest her heart is pounding, blood rushing in her ears so fast that she almost feels dizzy.
Suddenly the perspective of her life shifts rapidly. All of the pieces she’s spent years trying to fit into place have moved, revealing the gaps that she’s worked so hard to ignore. She scrambles back into her skirt and blouse, nearly tripping as she struggles to pull on her heels.
Lena has everything — an amazing job, a beautiful home, a few good friends, and a loving boyfriend — but for the first time in a long time it feels like she has the one thing she’s been missing.
Hope.
-
Jack is more understanding than she feared he would be. He cries and she cries, and they hug for a long time on the couch with her curled into his arms for the last time. They promise to still be friends, once the hurt has healed and Lena hopes they will be.
She rents a penthouse apartment downtown close to the office. For a moment she considers buying a place but quickly dismissing it in favor of leaving the possibilities open. Possibilities she hadn’t let herself imagine until now.
A few weeks after she’s settled in, with furniture she picked out in the living room and art she likes on the walls and not a television with a sports package in sight, Lena goes to CatCo.
She’s been here once before, visiting Andrea after she first moved to town, and though they’ve met for drinks a few times since, she hasn’t returned to visit her at work.
When Lena steps out onto the CatCo floor her heart is racing. She feels nervous enough that she might need to detour to the restroom to psych herself up in the mirror, but before she can look to find the right door, her eyes are connecting with Kara’s across the room.
Kara’s eyes grow wider and wider with each step Lena takes toward her, and a wiry man with dark hair is sitting at the desk Kara is leaning against, looking between them with interest.
“Get lost, Winn,” Kara says quickly to him when Lena finally gets within ear shot, and he mumbles something she can’t hear before pushing off the desk and sliding away in his rolling chair.
“Hi,” Lena says when she’s close enough to Kara to see the blue of her eyes and the pen ink drying on her hands. She has that same purple pen with the pompom on top clenched tightly in one fist.
With all the confidence she can muster Lena slowly reaches out and uncurls Kara’s fingers, taking the pen and setting it carefully on the desk. She doesn’t let go of her hand and Kara stares down at their touching fingers for a long moment before looking back up at her.
“Hi,” she says finally, looking at Lena like she’s watching a magic trick. Lena grins, bright and wide and completely uninhibited.
“Would you like to have coffee with me?” she asks, teeth digging into the flesh of her bottom lip while she waits for Kara’s brain to process exactly what’s happening. It only takes a second.
Strong fingers lace through her own, and then Kara is tugging her back across the bullpen in the direction of the elevator.
“Winn,” she calls over her shoulder, grinning goofily at Lena with her cheeks flushing pink. “I’m taking the rest of the day off.”
“Can you do that?” He calls back with a furrowed brow, but Lena’s pretty sure Kara doesn’t even register his existence on this planet as she pushes the button to summon the elevator.
While they wait for the doors to open Lena carefully extricates her hand from Kara’s, just enough to lift her wrist and press their palms flush against one another. Kara’s palm is warm and Lena’s fingertips are calloused and when their fingers line up neatly Lena grins.
They’re the same size.
“So,” she says when the doors open, taking her hand back from Kara’s and reaching for her sleeve to tug her into the elevator. Her heart is pounding, her cheeks already sore from smiling, and she can’t wait to learn every single thing there is to know about Kara Danvers.
for the record I’m reading this at 8:00 am and because it’s too early for my brain to have a filter my first thought was “shit this is really good” my second thought was “ow my cheeks hurt from smiling so much while reading this” and my third thought was “was shit this is fucking awesome” so if your looking for a good one shot of our favourite couple please give this a read
The prompt: Nia’s tasked with building one of those buzzfeed style quizzes and the theme is “Which Superfriend Would You Marry?” She sends it on their group chat as a test run. Kara and Lena are having a movie night and they take the test together. Lena gets Dreamer as a result . Kara’s immediate, not censored reaction is to say that there must be something wrong with it because there’s no way Lena would get Nia. The (fun) thing is, Kara and Lena aren’t dating (until that night oc).
“Which Superfriend would you marry?”
Lena promptly chokes on her mouthful of red wine, coughing and spluttering as her cheeks flush a deep puce. “Excuse me?”
Which— right. She probably could have phrased that differently. Kara grimaces, reaching out to rub soothingly over Lena’s back as her best friend tries valiantly to expel the last of the alcohol from her lungs.
“It’s a quiz. Craft Your Perfect Taco to Find Out Which Superfriend You Would Marry,” she explains once Lena’s breathing has settled, nudging closer on the couch to hook her chin over Lena’s shoulder. “Nia made it after Andrea decided Catco was going to become the new Buzzfeed within the week or we were all going to lose our jobs. I guess she finally finished it?”
Kara tilts her phone between them, showing Lena the message. “She sent it in the group chat. Wants us all to try it to make sure there are no bugs.”
“Which group chat?” Lena asks, hitting pause on the movie and rooting through their nest of blankets and pillows for her own phone. “Superfiends? Brain Train 2: Intergalactic Boogaloo? Alex Danvers' Blue Eyeshadow Support Group? America’s Ass?”
“Woops.” Lena presses her lips together, blinking big and angelic. “You might not be in that one.”
Kara’s frown deepens. She pouts up at her best friend as Lena pushes up from the couch to refill their glasses, bottom lip at maximum extension. “You guys have a group chat without me?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lena calls from the kitchen over the sound of pouring wine. “Tell me more about this quiz.”
Kara huffs. “You know I can’t be that easily distracted, right?”
Lena crosses back to the couch, depositing their drinks on the coffee table and flopping down beside her. She presses close, curling into Kara’s side in a cloud of expensive perfume. “Of course you can’t, darling,” Lena soothes, stroking a consoling hand over her forearm as she drops a large bag noisily into Kara’s lap. “Look, popcorn.”
Kara beams, ripping into the snack and devouring it with gusto. “Okay, so, the quiz,” she mumbles around a loud mouthful. “I guess we should take it separately? Nia wants as many guinea pigs as possible.”
Lena nods, settling in at Kara’s side as she unlocks her phone. She’s really close, and she smells really good, and her teal cashmere sweater is really soft against Kara’s skin so she makes the executive decision to hook her chin back over Lena’s shoulder. Just, like, for convenience.
“Hey!” Lena’s fingers dig lightly against her ribs, and Kara squirms. “No cheating.”
“How am I gonna cheat?” she huffs, but pulls her head back anyway, settling for hooking her pinkie through Lena’s belt loop instead. “This is a quiz designed to tell me who I should marry: my sister, my sister-in-law, my honorary father, my little brother, or his girlfriend. The results are gonna be pretty funky whichever way you slice ‘em.”
“Still,” Lena hums, wiggling her socked feet beneath Kara’s thigh. “Eyes to yourself, Ms Zor-El."
The loft falls silent as they tap away at their respective screens. She has to hand it to Nia; this quiz is no walk in the park. She spends a solid ninety seconds deliberating between pico de gallo and guac on her tacos, and is just making a mental note to tell Nia to add an all of the above option to every
question when Lena sucks in a sharp breath, lets it out in a giggle.
“What?” Kara asks, craning her neck to get a look at the other woman’s screen. “Did you finish already? Who did you get?”
Lena’s still laughing, head tipped back, the elegant line of her throat exposed. Kara forces her eyes away from the arc of creamy skin, reaching over to pluck Lena’s phone from her limp fingers.
“Dreamer?” she all but shrieks, reading the name on the screen once, twice, three times. “You? And Dreamer? You and Dreamer? Dreamer?”
“Apparently so,” Lena laughs, head tipping back against the cushions. “Do you think Nia set herself as the only possible answer?”
“Apparently not, since I just got matched with Sentinel.” Kara shudders, the mere suggestion too icky to contemplate for long. She stares at Lena, who’s still chuckling.
“I can’t believe you got Dreamer,” Kara huffs, teeth grinding. “That’s ridiculous. I’m gonna tell Nia her quiz doesn’t work.”
Lena presses her lips together, holding back a smirk. Kara’s eyes get stuck there a moment; on the pretty pink sweep of plump flesh, the delicate bow, the deep plum tint left over from her wine.
“Why is it so ridiculous?” Lena chuckles, white teeth digging into the plush of her bottom lip. Kara’s eyes follow the indentation, the willing yield of her flesh to the pressure. She watches the way Lena’s mouth moves, entranced by the formation of words she’s barely registering.
When Lena’s mouth stops moving altogether, Kara manages to tear her eyes away only to find her best friend is staring at her pointedly, looking decidedly unimpressed.
Right. Lena had asked a question.
“It just— it’s wrong,” she manages at length, feeling a little like she’s having to manually fire her own synapses just to make her brain focus on anything besides the sight of Lena’s mouth. “The quiz is obviously faulty.”
“Why?” Lena repeats, a hint of indignation beginning to bleed into her tone. “I love Nia very much. There are certainly worse matches.”
“Yeah, but there’s also way better ones,” Kara insists. The collar of her shirt feels too tight all of a sudden, the room too hot and the air too stifling.
One perfectly manicured eyebrow quirks. “Such as?”
Kara opens her mouth. Closes it again. Opens it once more. “Well, I mean—”
Lena’s brow lifts another quarter inch. “Yes?”
“Lena, come on.” She doesn’t know why she’s so adamant on making this point. She just knows that Lena and Nia, it’s— it’s wrong. She just needs Lena to see that too. “You can’t honestly— Rao, if you were going to marry any of us it wouldn’t be Dreamer, it would be—”
Her jaw snaps shut with an audible click that echoes through the suddenly silent living room.
Kara’s heart is pounding. Her fists are clenched around the corners of an unsuspecting throw pillow, her breaths coming in short, ragged bursts. She becomes aware of this, mainly, because of how conspicuous her own noisy exhales are in comparison to Lena. Lena, who all of a sudden doesn’t appear to be breathing at all.
“Who?”
Lena’s voice is barely a whisper. In the unearthly quiet of the loft, it feels deafening.
Kara swallows, sandpaper rough. Doesn’t answer. Can’t.
Lena’s gaze is so heavy it feels like a physical touch. “Who, Kara?”
“I—” Her voice cracks. She clears her throat, takes a deep breath. “I don’t—”
Lena’s voice is a lit fuse, a thunderstorm on the horizon. “If not Nia, then who?”
The tension stretching the space between them pulls taught, wrought as overworked metal.
The goldfish clock on the wall counts the silent passage of time. Twenty seconds. Thirty.
She watches Lena. Lena watches her. Her lips aren’t smiling anymore. They’re pressed together, braced and tight.
Every molecule of air in Kara’s lungs shudders out at once. Her chest caves, shoulder slumping. The thread between them snaps, disappearing back into the ether. “I don’t know.”
Lena’s eyes widen a little, then narrow. The line of her jaw hardens infinitesimally. “Well, then. Maybe you shouldn’t be in such a hurry to pass judgment.”
Kara nods, cowed. Curls in on herself, hugging the pillow to her chest. Nia’s quiz doesn’t seem so fun anymore. In fact, their whole evening feels sour, curdling rotten in the pit of her stomach.
The movie restarts. Lena’s gaze is fixed on the screen but she isn’t watching, not really. Her eyes don’t follow the action, don’t move, don’t even blink.
Kara watches her, throat clogged with the contents of her slashed-wide heart, afraid to set it free lest its welcome be less than warm.
They don’t speak until the movie ends, some bland easy-listening tune rolling over the credits. It’s barely gotten to the first chorus when Lena shifts, rooting through the blankets for her discarded phone and reaching for her purse on the coffee table.
Kara sees the dismissal, the looming escape, in the tense lines of Lena’s shoulders. Hears it in the
fraught silence between them before Lena even says a word. “Well, I should probably—”
Panic flares hot through her muscles and suddenly, vicious as a lightning strike, the dam behind Kara’s teeth cracks.
“Me,” she interrupts, desperate and half-wild.
Lena freezes, halfway off the couch, one foot planted on the floor while the other pushes awkwardly against the couch cushions. “What?”
“God, me.” She doesn’t want to say it again. She says it again anyway. “Not Nia. Me.
Lena’s mouth falls open, a soundless breath escaping her. Her toes twitch against the couch cushions. “What— what are you saying?”
Kara takes a deep breath. The dam has cracked, now. Little point trying to hold back the flood.
“I’m saying, if you’re gonna take a stupid quiz about which of the Superfriends you should marry then the right answer – the only answer – is me.” Kara bites hard at the inside of her cheek. The sting helps to centre her, calms her rapid breathing enough to get the words out. “I’m saying that if you were to marry anyone, anyone in the galaxy, then I’d want— I’d hoped it might be me.”
For a long moment, Lena doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Only stares at Kara, wide-eyed.
Then, slowly, achingly slowly, she sinks back onto the couch beside her. Across the desolate chasm between their bodies, their knees brush. Lena’s voice is very, very quiet. “I’d hoped it might be you, too.”
Kara’s breath hitches. Lena’s eyes are so green it almost hurts to look at them. “Yeah?”
Lena’s mouth, always captivating, quirks into the beginnings of a smile so radiant it could outshine the brightest sun. “Yeah.”
Kara swallows. Snakes her fingers out to where Lena’s rest on the cushion between them, twining tight. “Wow,” she breathes, breathless and still a little disbelieving. “Wow. So, are we— are we really
doing this?”
Lena chuckles, squeezing their joined hands. “What, getting married?”
Kara flushes, a heady suffusion of white-hot joy coursing through her veins. “I mean, maybe we could start with dinner,” she chuckles, and Lena nods. Kara tilts her chin until they’re eye to eye. Lets the last blissful secret of her heart run free. “But, one day? Absolutely.”
Lena’s cheeks flush a delicate pink, eyelashes fluttering. “Deal.”
It’s natural, then, the way Lena folds into her. The way their bodies slot together on the couch like interlocking helices, Lena’s head on her shoulder, arms around her waist. Kara encircles her ribcage in turn, holding her tight, peppering the sweet planes of her face with the lightest dusting of kisses. She revels in the softness of Lena’s skin beneath her lips, the way her cheeks heat beneath the tender ministrations into a blush Kara can feel against her mouth.
“I cannot believe,” Lena hums, knuckles tracing the planes of Kara’s stomach through her shirt, “that after six years the thing that finally got us to this point was Nia Nal’s taco quiz.”
Kara snorts, nosing into Lena’s hairline to inhale the warm untempered essence of her. “God, I know,” she chuckles, pulling Lena a little tighter against her. “We’re ridiculous.”
Lena hums, burrowing against her chest, and Kara thinks she could stay here forever quite happily,actually. That she might never need anything else again.
A thought strikes her suddenly and she tenses, hard enough that above her, Lena does too. She raises her head so their gazes can meet, green eyes wide and apprehensive. “What is it, darling?”
“Did you choose salsa rojo or salsa verde for your tacos?” Kara rushes out, wide-eyed. “Because now I'm worried I made the wrong call, what if—”
Lena only laughs, and halts all further taco talk with a kiss.
STOP the fucking song and back it up to the start we didn't think about the right thing at the right time our head music video is all messed up what the fuck guys come on
Imagine if Nora comes back from the future just to hang out with her dad and stuff and so Barry takes her and introduces her to the other heroes. And he takes her to meet Kara and the super friends first cause why not and Nora is her adorable self. She squeals and runs up to Alex Danvers and hugs her and is all “Auntie Alex omg you look so young” and babbles at her in typical Nora fashion and Alex is stunned at first but quickly warms up to the young speedster and it’s all cute until Nora starts looking confused. “Where are they?” And Alex just looks at her questioningly and asks her who she’s talking about. To which Nora just giggles and replies with “your kids silly, I know we are in the past but I still thought they’d be here by now they are like my best friends and-“ she cuts off her ramble when she notices Alex had frozen and tears are forming in her eyes. “Im gonna be a mom?” Alex chokes out a sob cause good god she can’t believe it, it’s everything she ever wanted and she’s so happy, she gets kids! She’s happy in the future with kids and it’s just like a super sweet moment and Nora just smiles at her softly telling her how great of a mom she is.
You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.
I think I’d have minded less if I’d committed a truly heinous crime. Something that warranted death. Or even if I was the kind of person who would enjoy flinging a last defiance at my execution.
It was all just a show, anyway. They did it every year. They brought out a selection of criminals, and the Sorcerer who ruled us showed his power by bringing about their deaths by magic. Just to show, every year, what happened to anyone who crossed him.
There was a time, probably, when the people he executed really were rebels or assassins. In latter days he had to take what the dungeons offered. I was dragged up in chains between a pickpocket, sobbing in terror, and a man who’d killed another man in a brawl. There were few criminals of any note, by then. So instead of choosing the wickedest criminals, they chose based on appearance. The man who’d been in the brawl had a face like a clenched fist, and looked like a ruffian. The pickpocket, aging and with hands beginning to tremble, was a different kind of example. As was I.
“There aren’t many pretty ones, this year,” the man who chose me had said, examining me. “But this one will do. Not young, but not old, a woman, well-favoured enough for the gallows… what was her crime?”
The warder shrugged. “She tried to kill one of the sheriffs.”
The man looked down at me and I shrugged. “I hit him with a washing stick, because he tried to extort money from me, and he was a baby about it.” I refused to treat this as anything but pathetic, even after my sentencing. “I didn’t even break any bones.”
“Treason, then,” the man said, nodding. “Attacking the servants of the law. That will look well on the list. Send her.”
I had been debating ever since what to choose. Something quick? Something painless? I considered demanding that I suffer the attack I supposedly made on the sheriff, but then I realized the Sorcerer would only give me what the man had said I was going to do, and that was not a pleasant way to die. I had all but decided on something swift and relatively painless. Beheading with the sharpest of blades sounded good. It would be quick.
pixelskylines
turnnoffyourmind
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romaincrisis
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