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#no bc why do i remember my sister being the one to disinfect a cut i had when i was little
mrparable · 10 months
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i thought people were purposely exaggerating how the pandemic affected them but no they were rlly going insane over not being able to go out. like dude that was my normal
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The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 24/?
Role-reversed!AU (Song[Xiao]Xue): “Love at First Sight”
[villain!SL/investigator!XY]
[title is from a Kylie Minogue’ song and from nowhere else fight me]
[so. me is embarrassed to say this but. the idea comes from an Italian movie of the late 90’s.]
[which is to say that: (1) Italian comedies are rarely my thing bc they are (pardon my French, I don’t feel like switch to Italian rn) problematique most of the times; (2) it’s been 10 or so years since I last saw this particular movie and even if at the time I liked it I was probably sixteen at the time so... not the best judge also my memory is shit for actual plot points; (3) internalized homophobia runs in the Italian film industry; (4) it deals with criminal gangs and, even if the movie makes fun of them, it is still a sore topic in my country so... I’m not gonna go in detail for this ficlet. it is, in fact, just a prompt; (5) also there is a cop character and... well, I changed it into a private investigator bc fuck it; (6) ignore me, I’m emotional tonight.]
*
Married off. Him. To a lovely girl, for sure, but with a penchant for pickpocketing and letting her mouth run at the most inconvenient of times. The wedding is in six months. Song Lan has to laugh at that.
But Mother has been almost too complacent with him for the longest time, allowing him to play his games and get it on with too many women for him to care to keep track of. He may or may not have disrespected some of them and their powerful families in the past for being a serial womanizer. There’s a logic behind it, of course, but since his eye surgery he cannot seem to remember what that could have possibly been at the time.
The worst of all being that he doesn’t remember why he ever found women attractive in the first place. People of the Baixue Clan tried to cheer him up to no avail for months. They took him to brothels, called in his favorite rent-girls, tipped them extra, brought him out of town on vacation to distract him, but... nothing.
He feels like crying sometimes. He’s done. Broken. Nobody will ever take him seriously anymore now that he’s nothing but his mommy’s boy. Forget for a minute that his mother is keeping the entire Yi City in check by enforcing her law on other clans. Let alone that her word has ruled over rascals and rogue hotheads for decades just by letting them hear her name. BaoShan Sanren would have not forgiven him for turning down the daughter of a competing family, that’s for sure.
Sometimes Song Lan looks down at himself, dressed in ridiculously flashy buttondowns open at the collar, with black jackets and fitting trousers, embezzled shoes on his long feet... and he wants to shriek. He hates everything about himself and he doesn’t know where to start. He doesn’t recognize himself anymore, almost as if his mind had changed about everything he believed to know.
At least he can see again. That should be enough, right?
*
It should have seen it fucking coming, Xue Yang knows this much.
A bullet to the heart would have hurt him less, but it’s been a year since his husband’s death and he’s done. He’s fucking done. Throwing himself away like that, recklessly accepting new cases one after the other just because. He’s got nothing to come home for anyway.
But as he disinfects the slash of a dagger on his shoulder, he wonders if there’s more to life than this. A dirty bathroom where he and his husband used to shave in the morning together before work. A stuffy apartment filled with unwanted memories. Mold on the ceiling, laughter rising to the sky every night before Xiao XingChen died. Before everything else left with him.
Xue Yang flinches when the alcohol stings badly on the cut and he chugs some vodka down for good measure as he prepares to stitch the gaping wound back together. The flame scorches the needle until it becomes almost white and he wonders, not for the first time, how it would feel to just... stop. He cried so much he doesn’t have tears left anymore.
The last time he saw his husband’s beautiful face it was at the morgue, where a dispassionate woman in white had asked him to confirm his identity. She asked him if he had formally agreed to put his husband’s name on the list of organ donors. He refused in the beginning... and then thought about it. About what his righteous husband would have wanted him to do.
Letting go of him –of any part of him, really– so soon tore him apart.
Since there was nothing left of Xiao XingChen, it was just right for not a single thing of Xue Yang to be left in his wake as well.
Well, aside from the pain. But that was to be expected after all.
He had never deserved anything but pain in his life.
Fuck that. Fuck that shit.
*
Mother asked him to look for a mole in the group, but he found a mere nobody snooping around in their area instead. Searching for what, he doesn’t know. But, as he crowds the other man in a dark alley behind the secret entry of their club, Song Lan cannot help himself from staring.
The laundromat from where their regular patrons usually enter to play is open 24/7, the flickering light coming from its open door casting just... the loveliest shadows on the younger man’s face. He’s shorter, much shorter than him. Possibly in his early thirties. Dressed nicely with a gun pointed at Song Lan... but he doesn’t care.
It’s almost as if something has fallen back in its original place and Song Lan is filled with elation. He has never felt more relieved or happy in his life. It feels like a second chance at life, an opportunity he doesn’t want to let slide through his fingers this time around.
He grasps the other man’s hand holding the gun and directs it upwards in a swift move. A bullet cuts through the air as he pushes the shorter man up to the laundromat window, neon lights dancing on Song Lan’s face. Soon people from the club will rush to his aid, knowing full well that he’s out looking for a snitch. He doesn’t have time, so he takes a good look at the person at his mercy.
He knows him.
And he falls in love, immediately.
*
The shot still rings in his ear, the gun burning in his outstretched hand, now caught in a vicious grasp. Xue Yang flinches as he looks up and gets ready to defend himself. He was just following a useless son of a bitch lying to his wife about not playing cards and losing all of their money. He would have never thought it would turn so bad so soon. Usually he gets away quickly enough, running for his life as usual...
...but this is different.
His gaze meets Xiao XingChen’s eyes and he freezes on the spot. He would recognize them anywhere, the same glassy quality to them, the same softness around them. Nothing makes sense anymore.
Because the one in front of him looks nothing like his husband.
And yet he knows him.
He knows what it feels to be looked with fondness and longing by one Xiao XingChen.
Fuck, he missed that.
He missed that so much.
*
[additional nonsense under the cut, bc. I am me]
[the original movie is a comedy, but I saw this post while I was writing the prompt and now it’s a fucking urban-noir kind of deal baby!]
[am I procrastinating another ficlet (slowly turning into a 20k monster bc I’m stupid) by writing this prompt instead? no. what are you talking about?]
[i wanted SL to have a family, but I had no idea what the people at the Temple would have looked like or acted around him, so I imagined BaoShan Sanren hoarding children as she goes (which is canon anyway) but she’s a villain in this bc I’m an asshole.]
[SL is the only one of her children to have an actual father, hence he’s the only one with a last name different from Sanren (which I know is a title but let. me. live. *kissy face* :* :* :* many thanks.]
[I offer Lan QiRen as a tribute for fatherhood, even if I know SL’s surname is written like “mist”, while the Lan Sect is named after the character for “blue”. but let me dream.]
[also I just like the idea of SL’s auntie or big sister being WWX’s mother for no other reason that this is a silly prompt and I need to fill these additional notes with something vaguely resembling a plot.]
[if you want another role-reversed!au check this other (wangxian) prompt of mine. then check all the others and have fun.]
[in the movie there was a scene where the widower runs on a horse to save the man he (begrudgingly) has come to care about from his wedding.]
[for the majority if not the entirety of the movie the widower sees something of his dead wife in the criminal (who received the wife’s eyes through transplant) and denies any attraction to him until the end... even if he runs away with him.]
[the criminal has changed since the transplant and became somewhat a decent person. in the end he runs away with the widower.]
[I wanted actual romance, not plausible deniability, thanks. hence this stupid prompt someone might like, maybe.]
[if you write something based on this prompt (the most angsty or hurt/comfort-y the better, but also fluff or *coughs*smut*coughs* is good) send me an ask. I want to read it! :D]
ok now I go back to my 20k-and-counting monster fic. bye!!
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honeybee-babe · 5 years
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Dialogue prompts 2 for Luther pls!! "Don't leave me" "Please stay" "I'm lonely" And number ~53, the one where Luther would be saying sorry for being sick and then being delirious bc of the fever. Thanks!!
Hey babe! Finally cracking down on these! As per our agreement, I’ll do separate fics for all of them. This one ended up WAY too long and the other ones will be way shorter, I promise. I felt like I had to explain all my headcanons which is a big part of that. Now that they’re listed here I won’t need to explain them again in later fics lol.~
ALSO: This fic is a sequel to the Lunya hug fic I wrote last week, so I would recommend reading that first. It’s really short.
I couldn’t really remember how the saying sorry one is supposed to go (I can’t find the prompt list cause it’s buried on my blog) so this might technically count for that, but I’m not sure.
Anyway here is a WAY TOO LONG response for “Please Stay.”
~
Vanya was worried about Luther. The day after he told her his news, he skipped out on dinner for the first time in a month. Klaus reassured everyone not to worry, Luther was probably just having a rough day and wanted to isolate himself (still a coping mechanism for ). Klaus had met a lot of people with eating disorders during his various stints in rehab over the years.
But when Luther didn’t come down for dinner the next night either, suddenly Klaus’ argument switched to the “relapses are normal” argument, and Vanya felt the panic hat had dissipated two nights earlier come back full force in her chest. She went to bed worried about Luther.
But when she woke up sweltering just an hours later, her was the farthest thing from her mind.
Fever was the word that flashed through her mind as she kicked the blankets off her body and changed out of her sweatpants into a tank-top and shorts, stumbling blindly into the bathroom, still rubbing sleep out of her eyes. She wondered how she’d missed the signs. She’d always been pretty in touch with her body, and this didn’t make any sense.
She’d been a little sick two days earlier, but it was just your standard cold: a stopped nose, a bit of sneezing. By the time dinner rolled around, she’d felt completely fine. She didn’t even tell her siblings about the illness. She preferred to stay out of their hair when she was sick, and besides, it was just a little cold.
Or, so she’d thought. But now she was standing in the bathroom with the thermometer under her tongue, hoping she didn’t have a fever more for the sake of not having to tell her siblings to stay away from her than for the sake of her own health.
When it beeped, her brows raised at the perfect 98.6°F displayed before her. Huh. That made no sense. She was wearing a tanktop and shorts and still sweating. And it was the middle of the night, in October. There was no way it was this hot in the house. Unless…
Shaking her head, she stumbled back into the hallway, and checked the thermostat.
“What the fuck?” she mumbled to herself. Who the hell had set the thermostat to 78°F? WIth a little huff she turned it back down to the 70°F she was used to; the way dad used to keep it, anyway.
Her first thought was Klaus – he always felt cold to the touch anyway, he probably felt cold, too. She’d text him in the morning, reminding him of the existence of blankets. For now, she’d go back to her room, and wait for it to cool down a bit so she could fall back asleep. But she was stopped in her tracks by a sound from down the hall.
“Huh’KSCH-NXGTchiew! HIhhh…Hh’NXXT! HhrrENXGT-chu!”
Vanya flinched, and then immediately frowned. The tired, congested-sounding sneezes came from Luther’s room, but that wasn’t the way he usually sneezed. That was the way he sneezed when he’d already been sneezing for a while and didn’t have the energy to hold his violent explosions back anymore. And instead of his normal two, it had been four.
Shit.
Vanya had only even thought about Luther’s sneezing so much because she’d heard him sneeze about a thousand times in the past seven months. Luther had been sick five times in that time, and two of those five times, he’d ended up in the infirmary with a high fever. The last time Luther was sick, Five hadcome to the conclusion that he was immunocompromised from isolation on the moon for so long. Isolation at the hands of their father. The same thing he’d put Vanya through all her life. Hearing that made her feel sick herself.
She’d felt oddly protective of him ever since. She’d always viewed him as strong and stoic, never putting his feelings into perspective. Never been able to think of him as fragile. Now she felt like he might break.
And as she walked down the hallway to his room, stopping on the way to grab and disinfect the thermometer, she cursed himself for not thinking to warn him about her cold. And for automatically assuming he had only missed dinner because he was relapsing. She needed to put more faith in him, he really was trying.
“Luther?” she called out softly when she reached his door, knocking gently.
“Come in,” came a hoarse voice from inside.
She pushed open the door tentatively, face falling when she saw the sight before her.
“Oh, Luther…” He was buried under his comforter, curled up in a ball, and barely fitting on his bed. A giant human burrito, only his head stuck out of the blankets. A thin sheen of sweat coated his flushed face. “You look awful.”
“ ‘m okay,” he mumbled, voice gravelly and barely there.  “Dn’ worry about me.”
“Did you turn the thermostat up to 78 degrees?” Her tone was a bit more accusatory than she’d intended.
“Yeah, cause it’s freezing,” Luther mumbled, hugging his blankets tighter around his shoulders. He shivered violently underneath the covers as if to prove his point.
“No, Luther, it’s really not.” Vanya sat on the end of his bed. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah. Js’ tired.” He punctuated the sentence with a wheezy cough, the beginnings of something wet rattling in his chest.
“Yeah, right.” She gently reached out a hand to feel his forehead, which was unsurprisingly burning. He shivered profusely when she touched him, but didn’t make an effort to move. That was not a good sign. “How long have you been feeling shitty?”
Luther’s shoulders shrugged under the blankets, making the whole burrito move.
Vanya reached for the thermometer. “I think you just have a fever. Will you let me check?”
“No, I don’t. ‘M okay, don’t worry.” Nonetheless, he made no move to stop Vanya from putting the thermometer in his mouth, nor did he try to stop her from reading the results.
“103.1. Jesus, Luther. Why didn’t you-” she cut her rant off when she saw how miserably he was, looking up at her with those big, sad blue eyes. She brushed back the sweaty hair clinging to his forehead. How was his hair even long enough to do that? 
“You should have said something sooner, Spacey.”
Luther just looked down at his blankets. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
Vanya sighed and stroked his cheek gently. “Well now I’m even more worried!”
Luther turned his head away from Vanya’s touch and buried his face into his pillow. “I’m sorry.”
Vanya bit down on her lip when she heard him sniffle. “Luther?” When his breath started to hitch, she put a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, Lulu, don’t cry-”
“Hh’GNKtchiew! Hahh-nXXGT! Hihhh! Hih… hih!”
Oh.
Vanya couldn’t help but giggle, so loud she didn’t even notice the third budding buildup. 
“Bless you. I thought you were-”
“Hh’kTSCHIEW!-ugh, sorry…”
Vanya brought her hand to her chest. “Goodness, bless you! Nearly gave me a heart attack!”
Luther finally turned his head back around and blinked tiredly at her, flashing her a sheepish little smile. His nose was running like a faucet. She reached for the tissues on his nightstand and dabbed at his upper lip.
“Thanks,” he muttered, and wheezed, which quickly dissolved into a coughing fit.
Vanya pat him on the back until it was over. “You poor thing,” she cooed. He really did look pretty run down. “Let’s get some medicine in you.” 
She got up to leave, when she felt a hand on her wrist, pulling her back Even sick, Luther could easily restrain her. It was a feeling that still struck panic in her heart, even after all these months. She turned back to look at him, eyes alert. “What?”
Luther was giving her those big sad blue eyes again. His grip on her immediately slackened.
“Please stay.”
Vanya softened again, all her anxiety fading into tenderness as she bent down so she could be at eye level with him.
“I’m not going anywhere, Lu.” She brushed his hair back from his forehead again. “I’m just gonna get some things for you, and then I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Promise?”
She booped him on the nose. “I promise.”
Luther scrunched up his nose and buried his face into his blankets, cupping them over his mouth with his hands. “Hhh’GNK-Nn’XXT!” Vanya giggled at his reaction, and even more so at the little glare he shot her when he finally lowered the blankets, snot dribbling down his chin now. She wordlessly wiped at it again.
“Okay,” Luther mumbled with a thick sniffle after a moment’s repose. “But be quick.”
Vanya pulled an extra two blankets up to his chin before she quietly slipped out of the room.
When she returned, he was already half-asleep, just barely coherent enough to accept the medicine before he opened up his arms for his little sister to climb into.
Uncomfortable as she felt surrounded by the heat that was radiating from Luther’s body, Vanya felt satisfied when she felt his arms stop shaking around her frame, relaxing into the sleep he so desperately needed.
She waited for the sound of his congested snoring to be sure he was really asleep. Then she slid easily out of his arms and out the door, making sure to ruffle his hair once for good measure and pull the blankets up to his chin one last time before leaving him for the night.
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the-wlw-cafe · 6 years
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Forget Me (Not)
Request: #62 Memory loss with Lena Luthor preferably the Reader losing their Memory? They were Dating for awhile but got hurt protecting Lena so now she doesn't remember Lena who decides it's best for her not to remember so that the Reader doesn't get hurt again so Reader goes About their normal life but with Lena basically suffering every time she sees them bc she's still in love with them idk Maybe a happy ending if you wanna
Fandom: Supergirl
Warnings: referenced injuries, some language, being Long as feck
Word Count: too many (3265)
You awoke to the sound of hushed voices. You couldn’t make out what they were saying, every noise seemed to drift towards you through a thick layer of jelly, muffled and warbling. You felt like you were floating. It was the smell that finally clued you in that something was off: It smelt sterile, like hand soap and disinfectant, not like the scent of lavender, coffee and freshly washed sheets that you associated with home. You slowly opened your eyes, blinking against the bright white lights that surrounded you. When you tried to move, you noticed an IV drip sticking out of your arm.
Ah. Hospital.
The voices became clearer, two women, arguing.
“Now you’re just being dramatic, Lena, this isn’t your fault!”
“If it weren’t for me, none of this would have happened. Getting close to me is a risk, you know that, and I’ve been selfish enough to ignore it, but I just can’t anymore. I’m making the right decision here.”
“The only thing you’re making is a big mistake Lena, I know how much – (Y/N)!”
It seems they have noticed that you are awake, and the taller of the two, a blond woman whose face splits into the most sunny smile you’ve ever seen once she makes eye contact with you, comes rushing to your bedside. The smaller one, pale, with dark hair framing an impossibly gorgeous face, stands in the back, clearly left distraught by the argument you’d interrupted. You immediately got the overwhelming urge to reach out and comfort her.
“(Y/N), we’ve been so worried about you, but I knew you were a trooper!”
She immediately goes in for a hug that leaves you stiff and awkward. You have no idea who this is, but they clearly know you very well, which can only mean one thing. But that couldn’t be, things like that were reserved for soap operas only, it didn’t happen in real life...right?
The tall blonde seemed to notice you not returning the embrace, pulling back with a frown.
“Is something wrong? Are you hurt? Oh Rao, did I hug you to hard?” she fretted, a worried crinkle appearing between her brows.
“Oh no, the hug was fine, I just...” you make a helpless flailing motion which leaves your IV drip swinging. “I’m sorry, I’m going to be frank, I have no idea who you are.”
The blonde lifted her hands to her mouth to cover a gasp. “But...but you must recognize Lena, right?” she exclaimed, gesturing towards the other woman. Oh this was bad. You hated to see these people hurt and worried.
“Nope, does not ring a bell.” You replied.
“But she’s-“ the blonde began, only to be cut off by the other, Lena.
“- the one whose building was trapped with the bomb that put you on a coma. I needed to make sure you’d recover, and seeing that you’re awake, I’ll go get a doctor for you”, she said curtly, and gave you a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. She’d already turned away before she’d finished the sentence. You and the blonde watched her leave the room.
“Is she okay?” you asked.
“Honestly? I don’t know. She’s going through a lot of stuff at the moment.”
  Lena returned with a doctor not long after, and a series of exhausting questions later you were diagnosed with amnesia. When or whether your memory would return nobody could tell, but you were released two days later with the recommendation of trying to go through your day as it came naturally to you, visit familiar places and not stress yourself out too much over remembering. You felt lost and vulnerable in the apartment that was so unfamiliar to you, yet everyone seemed to recognize as yours. Kara, the blonde woman who had dropped by your bedside multiple times to bring you some fried sugary goodness to offset the horror that was the hospital food volunteered to sleep on your couch until you’d find some semblance of normalcy in her life (“No, really, it’s no problem, Alex – my sister – will look after my plants, and I think they’ll thank her for it, I keep drowning them for some reason...”).
  On your first evening at the place you didn’t remember as home, you went through Kara’s phone together, looking at pictures of her, her friends and you together in the hopes that it would stir something, anything inside you.
You scrolled through pictures of you and her friends at bars, at picnics, at game nights, always laughing and smiling, and still these peoples were strangers to you. All of them, except one.
“That’s Lena! From the hospital!”, you exclaimed, just glad that you had found one face that didn’t make you feel like looking through stock photos of a group of handpicked multiracial attractive models.
You furrowed your brow in thought. “That’s weird, though, she didn’t mention us being close.”
Kara smiled a slightly pained smile, said something along the lines of “well, you met her through me, I was interviewing her for CatCo and things just snowballed from there”, before quickly scrolling on. You see her face popping up in some pictures after that one, but you don’t bring it up again.
  In the following days, Kara took the time to re-introduce you to all of her friends, to her sister Alex, Alex’ girlfriend Maggie to Winn and James, she tried to get a hold of Lena but the CEO declined. It didn’t surprise you, being CEO of L-Corp probably didn’t leave her with much free time. The Superfriends did their best to make you feel welcome in their midst, but you still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that you were hanging out with a group of complete strangers, who somehow knew your favourite drinks, your Noonan’s order, and your preferred board games.
  Kara took you to L-Corp a week after you were released from hospital, since it was there you lost your memory, and per chance you ran into Lena. Kara invited her along to grab coffee together, but with one look at you she blanched, pressed out that she was urgently needed in a meeting from between clenched teeth, turned on her heel and walked right into the room she had left seconds before. It was completely empty.
  You started to get the feeling that Lena didn’t like you.
  The following Saturday, you were proven wrong, she didn’t just dislike you, Lena Luthor outright hated you. It was game night, and you had attended out of a sense of obligation and the fact that you started to grow close to the Superfriends – for the second time from their perspective. Lena arrived late, played one token round of Taboo, and then left immediately after, citing a work emergency. The phone she pretended to talk on was clearly switched off.
  Days turned into weeks, and this became a common occurrence, no matter how much Kara and the others conspired to get you two to talk to each other.
By far the worst thing about this situation was however the fact that you seemed to affect Lena’s friendship to Kara too. You caught them, once, arguing in the kitchen at game night after they had gone to get more wine.
  “Lena, she’s suffering, you’re suffering, and this has to stop. You can’t keep running away from this and honestly I’m not sure how much longer I’m willing to lie for you!”
“Kara Danvers, don’t you dare. Don’t you dare destroy everything I’ve done to-“
“-to make both of you miserable? Lena, open your eyes, this isn’t working! (Y/N) has a right to know –“
You couldn’t take it any longer and decided to announce yourself by clearing your throat. The two women whipped around to face you.
“Sorry”, you began, awkwardly scratching your neck as if you hadn’t just caused a rift between these two friends. “The guys are asking for more beer.”
“Oh, we were just...” Kara started, clearly in the early stages of a trademark ramble.
“...just leaving. I was just leaving.” Lena finished, her gaze fixed on some spot behind you. You didn’t manage to contain your scoff in time. “Another work emergency, I gather? Or what’s the excuse you have for us today?” you said. Lena stumbled backwards as if you had hit her, and immediately you regretted your cold words.
“I...good night, (Y/N).” Her voice broke on your name and you swore you could hear her sniffle as she rushed past you. You stared at Kara, unsure of what had just happened in this kitchen, when you felt a second wave of anger wash over you.
“No”, you growled. Kara looked at you, puzzled.
“No, she doesn’t get to do this. She doesn’t get to avoid me for weeks when I needed her the most, when she should have been there for me like all your other friends...my other friends were! She doesn’t get to make me feel bad about calling her out on her bullshit! I don’t know what I did to offend her, I literally can’t remember, but why can’t she just talk it out with me like a goddamn adult?!”
You braced yourself on the kitchen counter as you stared into the dark night outside. Voicing your anger had felt good, it had been a long time coming, but you’d still do anything to get some closure on this whole situation.
“Oh, (Y/N)”, Kara breathed, looking torn. “Lena doesn’t hate you. She...she’s in a difficult spot right now, and she thinks she’s doing the right thing but she’s really, really not...she’s a very headstrong woman.”
“Yes, feel free to tell me whenever you’re ready to stop talking in riddles and feel like making sense”, you snapped.
“Lena made me promise not to tell a word, and I can’t break her trust like that, but I also can’t stand to see you both so miserable.” Your friend heaved a great sigh, and at this moment she looked older than you had ever seen her. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and after some typing, she presented it to you. “Just...take a look.”
She had opened a folder named Top Secret L  and you actually let out a small giggle at that. Subtlety really didn’t seem to be her strongest suit.
The folder was empty except for a series of four photos, obviously taken in quick succession at a park. The first was Kara, taking a selfie, pointing excitedly at some kissing couple on a park bench. Half of you wanted to sit Kara down for a serious talk about privacy and personal space, the other half just smiles because that’s Kara, the same Kara that had called you one evening after having seen an elderly couple feeding ducks at a pond, squealing “true love exists!”. The second photo is another image of the couple, up close this time, and your heart drops into the general vicinity of your stomach when you recognize the lovebirds. That is, without a doubt, Lena Luthor, one hand in your (H/C) hair, the other at the small of your back. The third picture clearly showed your reaction to being busted, Lena hiding her face in your chest and you throwing your head back with laughter. You couldn’t tell whether the blushes on your faces stem from embarrassment at being caught or from the heated kiss you had been sharing. In the fourth and last picture, Alex was photobombing you, pretending to gouge her eyes out with a cocktail umbrella.
You put the phone down, staring blankly at nothing in particular. You hadn’t expected to be able to feel this photo so vividly, not to remember, but to know how Lena’s soft lips felt on yours, how her scent surrounded you, how you were able to feel her pulse racing out of control...
You were longing for something, for Lena, for a feeling you didn’t remember but missed anyway. You looked up at Kara helplessly, seeking guidance, advice, something.
“Were Lena and I...” you croaked, not trusting your voice to get the whole sentence out.
“An item? Yeah. You even tried to keep it secret from us for a time, but we saw right through you. And by ‘we’ I mean Maggie ‘detecting is my job’ Sawyer”, she added with a soft smile.
You leaned against the counter.
“I imagine you two have a lot to talk through”, Kara said gently.
You nodded absent-mindedly, already working through hundreds of reasons why Lena would not want you to find out you had been in a relationship before the bomb and the memory loss debacle.
Kara grabbed you by the shoulders, gently ushering you towards the door. “Come on, I’ll tell the others where you are. You go get your girl.”
  She texted you Lena’s private address as soon as you were out the door. In the lobby of her apartment building, you saw a security guard immediately lumbering towards you. You cursed inwardly. You had no idea what to say. “Yes, apparently I used to be Lena’s girlfriend until a few weeks ago, but don’t ask me anything personal about her or our relationship, as I have conveniently forgotten it all.”
Before you could even begin to delve into a shakily improvised excuse, he broke out into a wide grin.
“Miss (Y/L/N)! I was wondering when I’d see you again here! It’s been too long! You and Miss Luthor didn’t have a falling out, did you?”
“Something like that”, you murmured, still taken aback by his jovial greeting.
“Well, I know it’s none of my business, but Miss Luthor hasn’t been well in the last weeks. I do hope you’ve come to set her straight.”
“Well, that’s the plan, but we’ll see how it goes”, you reply, showing a shy smile.
“Then by all means, don’t let me keep you here any longer, I’ll let you right up!” he said with a goofy thumbs-up gesture.
Lena lived in the penthouse, so you had plenty of time to come up with something to say to her on the elevator ride. You left the elevator without any semblance of a plan. You took one last, deep breath, steeled yourself and knocked on her door.
There were a few seconds of tense silence, and then –
“Who’s there?”
Even through the door you could tell from her hoarse voice that she’d been crying.
“It’s me, (Y/N). We need to talk.”
Nothing.
“Lena Lutessa Luthor, you open that door right now or so help me I’ll get Kara to throw me in through the window!”
For a moment you thought Lena would refuse to let you in, but then you could hear the tell-tale click of the door as she let you step into her apartment. You tried not to let it take your breath away too much, but you still found yourself slightly distracted by the gorgeous view on the golden lights of National City by night.
“I assume Kara told you, then.”
Lena had her back turned to you, obviously trying to hide her tears from view.
“Kara didn’t technically break her promise to you, she just let me connect the dots”, you said.
“So she didn’t tell you that she thinks I’m a coward and a liar?” she snapped, but you could hear the fright in her voice. She was scared and hurt, and therefore lashing out. And again, something inside you ached to take her in your arms, comfort her, and never let her go.
“Lena, you know Kara would never say these things. She loves you.”
Lena made a strangled sound, somewhere between a scoff and a sob. You decided to press on.
“I just need to know why. Why did you try to hide this from me? Were we...were we unhappy? Did that bomb just come incredibly convenient to you, so you didn’t have to break up with me?”
You were getting worked up again, you couldn’t help it. You deserved better than 3 weeks of the silent treatment, especially when as vulnerable and confused as you had been.
“Did Kara tell you what happened the day you got injured?” Lena asked, her voice almost inaudible.
“Yes, there was a bomb at L-Corp and I got caught in the blast-“
“You shouldn’t even have been there! I received the bomb threat several minutes before the explosion. There was enough time to get every civilian out of the building and to safety. There was enough time for you to be far, far away from any danger. And yet you turned around, and you ran right up to my office, because you just had to make sure I was okay. And when there wasn’t any time left anymore, you tried to shield me from the blast. I saw you get thrown against a wall, (Y/N). I saw you lying there, with broken limbs, not moving, and I thought you were dead! I thought I had lost you!”
Lena whipped around to face you, her face red and tearstained, but there was a grim determination gleaming in her eye.
“I thought you had died because of me. Do you understand now, why I have to do this? I loved you, I still do, but I can’t allow you to throw your life away for me. You deserve more. You deserve someone who can love you without endangering you whenever you’re together.”
“I’m not stupid, Lena”, you reply, after a few seconds. “I knew that when I got into the relationship with you. And I still chose you. And I think...I think I would do it again. Kara showed me the pictures of you and me in the park, I’m not sure if you remember-“
“Of course I do”, she sighed. “It was our first official date. You were actually going for a kiss on the cheek, but, well, so was I, and our lips just awkwardly collided for a moment before things...escalated.”
“Yeah”, you chuckled. “I could see the escalation.”
You swore there was a small smile playing around the corners of Lena’s mouth.
“The thing is, Lena, I felt something when I saw us kissing. I might not remember what we had, and maybe I never will, but I still miss it. I miss us. And maybe, in time, we could rebuild all of this.”
Lena’s mouth dropped open.
“Really? Even after how I’ve treated you? Oh God, how I’ve treated you, I’m so sorry, (Y/N), but I was so scared...”
You interrupted her with a raised hand. “You can’t do this to me again, Lena. You can’t just leave me out of the loop. If we are to have a second chance for...well...us, we need you to be able to trust each other completely. I need you to tell me the truth, always, even if it hurts, even if you’re afraid, and you have to trust me when I say I know what I am getting into.”
Lena nodded frantically, under tears, but she was smiling as well. You weren’t surprised to feel your eyes burn as well. And suddenly, you didn’t know who initiated it, maybe it had been a shared impulse, the two of you closed the distance between each other and fell heavily into each others arms, sobbing tears of relief, joy, loss, fear, a bit of everything.
This would take time, you both knew it, and both of you still had wounds that were a long way from healing, but in this moment you refused to let each other go. This was a path you had to take together, after all.
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