Archive of Our Own ^beta

The precise, mechanical, monotonous, perfectly rhythmic clicking of a pen tapping against a pad of paper echoed across the flat, gray walls of Herta’s laboratory. The emanator sat alone at a stool, save for a single Herta doll stood close behind her, eyes tracing along a table of results.

“Useless, useless. All of it, really,” she sighed, brow furrowed in annoyance. She was a genius. She must be well beyond such boring procedures. Failures can be learned from, successes are paramount, but static results that told her nothing? Those sat in her chest like a dead weight, stagnant and frustrating.

She did have to acknowledge that she was in somewhat of a rut, be that scientifically, intellectually, or creatively. She had hoped that a change of scenery—returning to the Herta Space Station—would do her some good, particularly with some... professional support from a friendly face. Perhaps, from only other person in the whole universe who she could ever consider herself an equal with.

Herta’s head sank, forehead pressed against the desk. “Ughhhhhhhh,” she whined, “Forget this, I’ll take it up again tomorrow.” She waved her arm at the doll to her back left, “Go, prepare my bed for me. I’ll be there momentarily.”

The doll bowed courteously, a show of politeness. The Herta didn’t even bother to turn and watch it. “Yes, Madam Herta.” The next thing she knew, the doll was gone. She hadn’t technically needed to verbalize the command— the dolls were also her, and she shared a consciousness that would allow her to act wordlessly. She was a hivemind, after all, and surely the most sophisticated, intelligent, and beautiful hivemind in the entire universe.

And yet, without even that extra Herta at her back... regardless that she was but an extension of herself...

She felt even more alone.

There was no point in wallowing in it, now, was there? Promptly, she stood up, gathering her things and cleaning her station. I wish she was here, her thoughts harassed her. She should have been here...

Her purple eyes blinked, readjusting to the sterile light of the ship as she exited the dark of her private lab. Although this hall tended to be quieter than most areas of the space station, a few researchers were walking past or conversing with one another.

Herta could see one of their hearts about drop when he noticed her presence. “M-Madam Herta,” he squeaked, cutting through whatever discussion he and his colleagues were having. The three in that group turned their attention to her as if doing otherwise would crush their skulls into a million pieces.

Usually such revelry would be something she much enjoyed, but in her current headspace, it only proved to annoy her. “Yes, yes, thank you,” she waved, immediately turning around to head down the other side of the hall. She didn’t have the social battery to deal with some random researchers, so what?

As she paraded across her space station, she passed by some more onlooking guests, researchers, and employees. When she crossed paths with her lead researcher, she actually felt some breath of relief.

Though the girl was not a genius herself, she held the capabilities necessary to one day join their ranks. Of that, she had no doubts, for she even entrusted all management and administration of the space station to her. She was second only to the station’s namesake investor, and that was high praise in Herta’s mind.

“Madam Herta,” Asta smiled, taking a moment to tidy her pink hair. Herta would deny wholeheartedly that looks had played into the equation when hiring her, but to say her smile didn’t warm her heart a little would be pure fabrication. “I’m glad to see you here at the space station. Will you be staying with us tonight? I can happily make accommodations for you.”

“No need, I’ve already sent my Hertas to prepare my room for me,” she smiled back.

“Of course. If you ever need anything, please just send me your word and I will see it done.”

“Thank you, Asta. Have you heard any word from Miss Ruan Mei? I believe she was supposed to visit sometime this week, though it seems I’ve missed her.”

The pink-haired girl only shook her head. “I’ve not, though we at the space station will welcome her with open arms whenever she chooses to stop by. I’ll be sure to alert you immediately if and when she does.”

Herta smiled, betraying the pit she felt in her stomach. “Much appreciated, dear Asta.” She could have reached out to the genius her self... no, she shouldn’t. She was a genius. Groveling at another’s feet, even another genius, would be unseemly.

As the two parted ways, one of Herta’s dolls stepped up behind her. My room must be ready then. I suppose I may as well retire there for the time being.

She took herself down the end of the hall, entering a short corridor to which only she and her dolls had access to. Well, she supposed she gave access permission to that other genius as well...

She and Ruan Mei were geniuses, from the Genius Society. If there was anyone capable of understanding her on an emotional level, let alone an intellectual one, it would be her. They’ve had so many important and private conversations together, it was only natural she would get invited to such a protected space.

No other reason.

Attached to that short corridor was her bedroom. While it didn’t hold a candle to the room she had back in Herta City, it was still designed to her tastes. While the room did have large glass windows that let her gaze out at the planet the station orbits, she had the mechanical blinds closed, plunging the room into a quiet darkness.

The only lucency came from a set of string lights, which darted back and forth beneath the purple-curtained canopy, illuminating the fabric ceiling like a sea of golden, glittering stars. The bed beneath was all shades of purples and blues, with countless layers of plush blankets accented by pillows in all varieties of shapes and firmness.

It was her own little oasis, so that whatever happened on the space station, no matter how stressful things may get, she would always have her bed to return to. Her sanctuary. A temple to her peerless beauty, perhaps? One used for worship, where her most devout believer could—

Enough, she shoo’d away the thought. She glanced back towards the Herta that followed her in. She knew she was there, she could sense her, see through her eyes. Somehow, seeing herself in third person unnerved her in this moment.

“Water, please,” she muttered pointlessly, as she had already started moving towards the pitcher at the end of the room. A glass of ice water was brought to her hand, and she drank some, savoring the cold freeze of it. She just needed to cool off, thats all.

After a long sip, she sighed, letting her body fall backwards into the soft comforter on her bed with a flattening ‘poof’. Despite the cold water, her body still felt concerningly warm.

Herta gave an exasperated sigh, grabbing one of her many pillows to hold close against her chest. Warm. So. Damn. Warm.

Fuck. This wasn’t good.

She ruffled with her clothing, tossing around the heavy layers of her dress. She should have changed into her sleepwear, but she didn’t know if she could bear to wait a moment longer for the comfort of her bed. Yet, these clothes were also uncomfortable for her in this state, tight and wrinkling and annoying.

Herta buried her face into the plush of the pillow. This was unsightly of her, a genius, moping about her room. Alone. So, so alone. Miss Ruan Mei... if only she had been here.

Silently, she dismissed the Herta dolls in her room. She didn’t want anyone to see her in this state, not even herself. The door opened and closed without a word uttered, and it was just herself. The room was eerily silent, save only for the hum of the station’s machinery. Her eyes fluttered, as if trying to muster any amount of sleep from her. But rest wouldn’t come easy.

Instead, her mind inevitably wandered. She thought of what her colleague might’ve been doing at that moment, in a far away star system. Was her work boring like Herta’s own, or exciting and daring? It made her wish for her presence here— the two of them worked so well together, after all! They filled in where each other’s shortcomings lied... well, for as many shortcomings as such an immaculate lady as herself would have.

Did she miss her too? Herta played with the ends of her hair, rolling the strands between her finger and thumb. She must miss her. Yes, a beauty like her would be missed by anybody, and the person who would miss her the most would, assumedly, be the woman she was closest to.

It wasn’t as though they hadn’t shared their work, their thoughts, their feelings... even this bed together.

The genius rolled around on the bed softly, finding everything on her skin to be itchy and annoying and gross. She muffled a hot breath with the pillow before taking to her clothing. The frilly sleeves of her outfit the first items to be tossed over the side of the bed, and then the long outer-skirt she wore. Still, it wasn’t enough.

The kicked her legs back and forth, throwing some sort of quiet tantrum. Ruan Mei. Ruan Mei... she thought. She clutched the purple fabric of her comforter, as though gripping it tightly enough would exhume all of her stress. it did not.

She looked up at the starry lights glowing above her. Somewhere, across the stars, was the woman she wanted. Why couldn’t she just have her now? Couldn’t she just barge through the door right now, grab her and hold her close?

She shook her head, rubbing her body more and more against the warm blankets beneath her. Her breath was heavy, now, skin warm and sensitive. A whine escaped her lips, threatening to tear a hole through her ego. Fuck. She was so fucking pathetic. A pale hand traveled down the creases of her skirt, obeying unspoken desires like as though it was one of her puppets, chasing the answer to a hypothesis. She paused only when she felt the sensation of warm, wet fabric against her fingertips. Aeons. Hypothesis proven correct.

Herta’s thighs pressed together involuntarily, threatening to wring another sound from her throat. Fuck. Why. Why was she like this. Why was she so pathetic. She wriggled across the mattress, shaking off every last piece of clothing— save for the hat. She would need something to hide her shameful face with.

Next, she scrambled to shield her body underneath a layer of covers, dousing a soft blanket over her bare figure. She inhaled, taking in the soft sensation of it running across sensitive skin. She lied the back of her head against a cushion, clutching the side with her left hand. Her right snaked beneath, clutching at the fat of her inner thigh.

This was so undignified.

A groan broke out as her hand sank into the wetness, chest heaving with desire and want. Before long, she rolled over, softly grinding herself against her cupped palm, needy sighs dampened by the pillow. “F-fuck,” she whined. She couldn’t keep her mind off of that woman... Aeons... Why did she have to be so far away? Why couldn’t she have been there for her?

She wanted her to be holding her, touching her, calling her beautiful, praising her. A sharp jolt of pleasure ran up her spine. Her touch... her voice... her smell. Fuck, she smelt so fucking good. Her grinding grew quick and shallow, her legs twitching faintly. More. She needed more.

She gasped as she pressed the tips of her finger firmly against herself. Tears built at the corners of her eyes. Pathetic. Pathetic. She turned over again, rubbing a swift circle over her warmth. “Fuck,” she whispered, eyes rolling back for a brief moment. “—Mei. Please.” She pressed more slick circles against herself, her breath rising, fruitlessly attempting to hold back any noise. An airy moan shuddered from the deep recesses of her voice. Her back arched sharply.

Herta’s free hand grabbed at her chest, squeezing it as though it was a subject of scientific inquiry, emulating the way Ruan Mei always would. Herta loved the way she looked at her, eyes sharp and inspecting, not letting any reaction go unnoticed. She was slow, meticulous, the kind of teasing that made her lose her mind.

She gave a calculated pinch to her chest, which only served to make her legs shudder even more under the weight of pleasure. Her stance beneath the covers was wide now, legs spread as though they were trying to welcome a guest who wasn’t actually there. “Fuck, fuck,” she cried, tears on the verge of falling down her face.

She loved being Ruan Mei’s plaything. She wanted to be hers. Her legs were shaking now, the warmth in her chest building up slowly. Herta bit her lip, fantasizing about how wonderful it would be when she grabbed her by the neck, light enough not to deny her oxygen, but strong enough to make her heart skip a beat.

A sharp cry broke from her mouth, legs shaking, back arched, eyes shut tightly, toes curled so tightly they hurt. A giant swell of warmth ripped through her head, the wake of which was left rippling through her body for minutes after. And as they subsided, her breath finally caught up with her, returning consciousness to her body at last.

All that was left were tears, which dragged down her face and pooled underneath her chin. A sob cracked itself out from the emanator, eyes shielded now beneath the large rim of her hat. “Ruan Mei...” she whimpered, sniffling. Pathetic. I’m so fucking pathetic. Fuck. Fuck...

Sleep took her away soon after, though the tears wouldn’t dry for a while longer.