I can always tell when it's time to post a ficlet
Right about the time I get sick of looking at it!
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ironysgrace requested Reds, specifically Brick finding Blossom's dark side intriguing. I'm pretty sure I went very sideways with this prompt but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
Title stolen from the Æon Flux episode from which I also stole the conclusion: Ether Drift Theory.
***
Brick flung open the door to Mojo’s observatory, sending little plumes of the fog layered at his feet into the air.
“Brick!” Blossom’s voice rang out across the darkened space, cleared of Mojo’s belongings and replaced with what looked like all the furniture from Him’s hellish country home now decorating its landscape. A darkened aquarium curved along half the length of the wall, arcing behind her and the flock of staticky television screens that fanned out around her perch. “I thought you might be coming.”
“Man. You adapted to the evil aesthetic fast.”
“I’m a quick study.”
“Are you sitting on a fucking throne?”
“Research tells that supervillains don’t excel at subtlety.” She stood, the fabric of her dress catching the light as its skirt shimmered, like black liquid pouring off her to the floor. “Can I take your coat for you?”
Supervillain? Getting ahead of yourself there, aren’t you?
Several small, palm-sized robots hovered near him and offered their tiny robot arms. He waved them off. “I was gonna ask about these guys.”
“I needed assistants,” she said, floating down and adjusting the elbow length opera gloves on her arms. He would’ve commented on the ridiculousness of it if it weren’t for all that insanely distracting cleavage that would’ve sent her former self into a flustered dead faint.
“What about your sisters?”
Blossom smiled wanly. “We had a difference of opinion. I assume that’s why you’re here? Or is it for your surrogate father?”
“Who?” Brick deadpanned, and her lips pulled to one corner of her face in a way that was distractingly appealing. In fact, the closer she got the more it was working for him. What had looked ridiculous at fifty feet was looking better by the second. Also, well, the whole cleavage situation.
She stopped a disappointing five feet away. “I suppose it’s too much to hope you came here just to see me?”
He took his time studying her, reflecting on his decoy status. Under normal circumstances he would’ve balked at being reduced to a mere distraction, especially at the Powerpuff Girls’ suggestion, but Bubbles had been right—it wouldn’t have made sense for either her or Buttercup to try to appeal to their sister’s sense of reason when it hadn’t worked the first few times, and neither of his brothers had the capacity or wits to keep her interested in conversation for long enough.
“The rumors about you and the lab incident piqued my curiosity.”
“‘Rumors,’ huh?” she said, her pink eyes sparkling.
“Something about an explosion?”
She shook her head, a catlike grin gracing her lips. “An exaggeration.”
“A weapon, then. And you, testing it on… yourself?”
“That part’s true. Not a terribly sophisticated origin story for me, I’m afraid. Although does it count as a weapon if it didn’t kill anyone or inflict damage?”
“I’d think damage to your psyche would count.”
She clasped her hands behind her and leaned forward. Very distracting.
“Do I look damaged to you, Brick?”
Far from it. “No. But if you had bigger tits you could probably be your own hentai.”
That catlike grin spread, baring teeth. “Thanks for noticing.”
The front zip of her dress dangled, tantalizingly within reach. Brick weighed his options, wondering just what kind of decoy he was supposed to be. Conversation seemed to be working, but getting physical was looking better by the second. Surely his brothers and her sisters had had time to surround the perimeter and cut off the volcanic power source to the observatory. Any second now the lights would flicker and dim—
“Oh my gosh,” she mock-gasped, and pulled back, clutching her hands to her chest. “I’m so rude. I didn’t even offer you a seat.”
He couldn’t help but laugh; even as a joke it was a very Blossom thing to say.
She cocked her hands on her hips and looked around, pursing her lips in mock thought. The ditzy bimbo act was a little heavy-handed, but it was also kinda working for her.
“I guess I’m not really set up for guests, either,” she said, pouting. She locked eyes with him again, her expression snapping back into that grin once more, and indicated behind her. “There’s only the one chair. But I’m a gracious host.”
“Oh?” His gaze darted towards the throne and back.
“Have a seat, Brick. Give it a try.”
He snorted. “Is that your idea of tempting me?” He flicked the pull of her zipper and leaned in. “Because I have a better suggestion.”
She lightly smacked his hand away and called his bluff, pulling up within a hair’s breadth of actual body contact. Her face drew close, he blanked for one crucial second, and then the opportunity to gain any sort of upper hand slipped his grasp.
Her lips met his cheek, and she spoke.
“Humor me, Brick.”
It felt like a match had been struck against his face. She lingered for a long moment, then pulled away, the hint of a smile playing at her lips. The idea that he was here to help out some weird combination of family and arch nemeses seemed stupider by the second. Not that Blossom was giving him any reason to complain.
He tore his eyes away from that body, that face, that smirk, and then he was doing exactly as she had asked, floating past her up those illuminated steps. The dark throne stood out in stark contrast against the bright static of the monitors and the aquarium that served as its backdrop. Unnatural shapes floated just beyond the glass. The throne loomed.
He stopped, taking it in. It was bigger than he had realized; more intimidating up close. He thought back to the sight of her, lounging catlike in this thing that dared him, challenging him to take a seat.
He considered, then conceded and instead turned to take in the view—
“Brick.”
Blossom had floated soundlessly just behind him and before he had a chance to react the air between them was gone. Her hand met his throat and instinct sent alarms ringing in his head, which were then immediately silenced by her mouth meeting his. He wanted to pull back, hating himself for thrilling to the contact, but his chest seemed to fill with tension that only Blossom could release. His eyes fluttered closed. She pressed forward and he yielded.
Kissing Blossom felt like sinking into the depths of a thing he had never given a voice for fear that it would hold him fast and drown him. Now that it was actually happening, it felt more like exhaling.A relief.
Her hand slid down his chest, stopping at his heart. He opened his eyes.
A familiar shadow caught in his peripherals, and he furrowed his brow, turning his head—wait, no. He couldn’t turn his head. He couldn’t move at all.
“What the,” he managed, before Blossom finished shoving him past the glossy surface of the aquarium—not glass filled with liquid. No glass at all. Just a gel-like substance that swallowed him whole and suspended him so completely he could not even blink.
Blossom drew back her unaffected arm, the gel slowly closing and smoothing over the surface once her arm had been completely withdrawn. Brick could only watch as she snapped off the shoulder-length gloves, letting them hit the floor where the bots collected them. This deep in he could just see the familiar shape that had caught his attention was Boomer, frozen in the same gel that had claimed him.
One of her hands floated to her face and she palmed her cheek. That sly smile, pinned in place for so long, dissolved now into flat stoicism. A few bots came up behind her, bearing a stack of folded clothes. She turned away from him as she unzipped her dress and started to change.
The observatory roof boomed as it curved open, and a faint buzzing sound gradually increased, marred only occasionally by the rustle of her clothing. An endless wave of bots had collected around her by the time she finished. She turned and cast one last look across the expanse of silhouettes suspended behind her, knotting her tie. Her eyes lingered on no one.
The hum of her bots increased, then faded as they dispersed outside. The observatory roof moved in reverse now, closing. Blossom floated towards the diminishing light in its center, now a half-moon, now a sliver. Then she shot out into Townsville, the fragments of her bright pink streak the last remaining light source in the room before everything shuttered into pitch black.
***
Thank you, as always, for your patience.
AO3 | FFNet | AskFM | Ko-Fi (currently closed)
By the by, I'm doing this civic action calendar starting this week (I know it's labeled for the month of June, but like most writerly folk, I'm a procrastinator). If you feel like following along it'd mean a lot. ♥
ironysgrace requested Reds, specifically Brick finding Blossom's dark side intriguing. I'm pretty sure I went very sideways with this prompt but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!Title stolen from the Æon Flux episode from which I also stole the conclusion: Ether Drift Theory.
***
Brick flung open the door to Mojo’s observatory, sending little plumes of the fog layered at his feet into the air.
“Brick!” Blossom’s voice rang out across the darkened space, cleared of Mojo’s belongings and replaced with what looked like all the furniture from Him’s hellish country home now decorating its landscape. A darkened aquarium curved along half the length of the wall, arcing behind her and the flock of staticky television screens that fanned out around her perch. “I thought you might be coming.”
“Man. You adapted to the evil aesthetic fast.”
“I’m a quick study.”
“Are you sitting on a fucking throne?”
“Research tells that supervillains don’t excel at subtlety.” She stood, the fabric of her dress catching the light as its skirt shimmered, like black liquid pouring off her to the floor. “Can I take your coat for you?”
Supervillain? Getting ahead of yourself there, aren’t you?
Several small, palm-sized robots hovered near him and offered their tiny robot arms. He waved them off. “I was gonna ask about these guys.”
“I needed assistants,” she said, floating down and adjusting the elbow length opera gloves on her arms. He would’ve commented on the ridiculousness of it if it weren’t for all that insanely distracting cleavage that would’ve sent her former self into a flustered dead faint.
“What about your sisters?”
Blossom smiled wanly. “We had a difference of opinion. I assume that’s why you’re here? Or is it for your surrogate father?”
“Who?” Brick deadpanned, and her lips pulled to one corner of her face in a way that was distractingly appealing. In fact, the closer she got the more it was working for him. What had looked ridiculous at fifty feet was looking better by the second. Also, well, the whole cleavage situation.
She stopped a disappointing five feet away. “I suppose it’s too much to hope you came here just to see me?”
He took his time studying her, reflecting on his decoy status. Under normal circumstances he would’ve balked at being reduced to a mere distraction, especially at the Powerpuff Girls’ suggestion, but Bubbles had been right—it wouldn’t have made sense for either her or Buttercup to try to appeal to their sister’s sense of reason when it hadn’t worked the first few times, and neither of his brothers had the capacity or wits to keep her interested in conversation for long enough.
“The rumors about you and the lab incident piqued my curiosity.”
“‘Rumors,’ huh?” she said, her pink eyes sparkling.
“Something about an explosion?”
She shook her head, a catlike grin gracing her lips. “An exaggeration.”
“A weapon, then. And you, testing it on… yourself?”
“That part’s true. Not a terribly sophisticated origin story for me, I’m afraid. Although does it count as a weapon if it didn’t kill anyone or inflict damage?”
“I’d think damage to your psyche would count.”
She clasped her hands behind her and leaned forward. Very distracting.
“Do I look damaged to you, Brick?”
Far from it. “No. But if you had bigger tits you could probably be your own hentai.”
That catlike grin spread, baring teeth. “Thanks for noticing.”
The front zip of her dress dangled, tantalizingly within reach. Brick weighed his options, wondering just what kind of decoy he was supposed to be. Conversation seemed to be working, but getting physical was looking better by the second. Surely his brothers and her sisters had had time to surround the perimeter and cut off the volcanic power source to the observatory. Any second now the lights would flicker and dim—
“Oh my gosh,” she mock-gasped, and pulled back, clutching her hands to her chest. “I’m so rude. I didn’t even offer you a seat.”
He couldn’t help but laugh; even as a joke it was a very Blossom thing to say.
She cocked her hands on her hips and looked around, pursing her lips in mock thought. The ditzy bimbo act was a little heavy-handed, but it was also kinda working for her.
“I guess I’m not really set up for guests, either,” she said, pouting. She locked eyes with him again, her expression snapping back into that grin once more, and indicated behind her. “There’s only the one chair. But I’m a gracious host.”
“Oh?” His gaze darted towards the throne and back.
“Have a seat, Brick. Give it a try.”
He snorted. “Is that your idea of tempting me?” He flicked the pull of her zipper and leaned in. “Because I have a better suggestion.”
She lightly smacked his hand away and called his bluff, pulling up within a hair’s breadth of actual body contact. Her face drew close, he blanked for one crucial second, and then the opportunity to gain any sort of upper hand slipped his grasp.
Her lips met his cheek, and she spoke.
“Humor me, Brick.”
It felt like a match had been struck against his face. She lingered for a long moment, then pulled away, the hint of a smile playing at her lips. The idea that he was here to help out some weird combination of family and arch nemeses seemed stupider by the second. Not that Blossom was giving him any reason to complain.
He tore his eyes away from that body, that face, that smirk, and then he was doing exactly as she had asked, floating past her up those illuminated steps. The dark throne stood out in stark contrast against the bright static of the monitors and the aquarium that served as its backdrop. Unnatural shapes floated just beyond the glass. The throne loomed.
He stopped, taking it in. It was bigger than he had realized; more intimidating up close. He thought back to the sight of her, lounging catlike in this thing that dared him, challenging him to take a seat.
He considered, then conceded and instead turned to take in the view—
“Brick.”
Blossom had floated soundlessly just behind him and before he had a chance to react the air between them was gone. Her hand met his throat and instinct sent alarms ringing in his head, which were then immediately silenced by her mouth meeting his. He wanted to pull back, hating himself for thrilling to the contact, but his chest seemed to fill with tension that only Blossom could release. His eyes fluttered closed. She pressed forward and he yielded.
Kissing Blossom felt like sinking into the depths of a thing he had never given a voice for fear that it would hold him fast and drown him. Now that it was actually happening, it felt more like exhaling.A relief.
Her hand slid down his chest, stopping at his heart. He opened his eyes.
A familiar shadow caught in his peripherals, and he furrowed his brow, turning his head—wait, no. He couldn’t turn his head. He couldn’t move at all.
“What the,” he managed, before Blossom finished shoving him past the glossy surface of the aquarium—not glass filled with liquid. No glass at all. Just a gel-like substance that swallowed him whole and suspended him so completely he could not even blink.
Blossom drew back her unaffected arm, the gel slowly closing and smoothing over the surface once her arm had been completely withdrawn. Brick could only watch as she snapped off the shoulder-length gloves, letting them hit the floor where the bots collected them. This deep in he could just see the familiar shape that had caught his attention was Boomer, frozen in the same gel that had claimed him.
One of her hands floated to her face and she palmed her cheek. That sly smile, pinned in place for so long, dissolved now into flat stoicism. A few bots came up behind her, bearing a stack of folded clothes. She turned away from him as she unzipped her dress and started to change.
The observatory roof boomed as it curved open, and a faint buzzing sound gradually increased, marred only occasionally by the rustle of her clothing. An endless wave of bots had collected around her by the time she finished. She turned and cast one last look across the expanse of silhouettes suspended behind her, knotting her tie. Her eyes lingered on no one.
The hum of her bots increased, then faded as they dispersed outside. The observatory roof moved in reverse now, closing. Blossom floated towards the diminishing light in its center, now a half-moon, now a sliver. Then she shot out into Townsville, the fragments of her bright pink streak the last remaining light source in the room before everything shuttered into pitch black.
***
Thank you, as always, for your patience.
AO3 | FFNet | AskFM | Ko-Fi (currently closed)
By the by, I'm doing this civic action calendar starting this week (I know it's labeled for the month of June, but like most writerly folk, I'm a procrastinator). If you feel like following along it'd mean a lot. ♥