#she’ll never be the woman whose name started with an L again

[snail-eggs]

something something six and ship of theseus metaphor

#snail thoughts #oc: six #she’ll never be the woman whose name started with an L again #and actually #was she ever her at all? or is she something new entirely

[personasintro]

My Tiny Secret | 17; Wine & Pride

𝑴𝒚 𝑻𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆 | 17; Wine & Pride

⏤𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; Pretty face doesn’t make it up for an ugly personality. And Kim Seokjin is the perfect proof of that.

⏤𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: seokjin x reader

⏤𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst, smut, mistress au, unexpected pregnancy au

⏤𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: strong language

⏤> 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒙

buy me a coffee?♡

a/n: this is a continuation of the flashback from the previous chapter!

“Tell me something about yourself.”

You're done eating, empty plates already out of your sights as you hold a glass of red wine in your hand, the other one gently leaning against the table.

Curious is what you are. Curious, why the man in that expensive suit with bank account bigger than you could ever imagine, is so interested in you. The ordinary woman that gets to spend her free time with some rich CEO, who seems to be too good for everyone. He barely shows any signs of happiness or something that could make him look in better lightening. Is he doing it on purpose? Is he hiding himself from everyone, or is he just being emotionless man?

“Why? I'm not that interesting person to talk about.” Your frown is switched to a puzzled look that you give him, noticing him licking the corner of his mouth.

“I'm quite intrigued in you, Ms. Y/L/N.” he says slowly, your mind processing his words as you feel a weird lump in your throat.

“Is it because my father owes you money?”

Seokjin has grown used to your bluntness, even if it's been a short time since he had the pleasure to talk to you. Nobody has ever thought about talking to him this way. You give him an attitude, testing his waters with each sentence that flows out of your mouth so naturally. But he has seen it. Him talking about your father brought an emotion on your cold face. Even though you showed the hatred that you feel towards one of your parents, you still care.

So you turn cold, letting him know that you don't care about your pathetic father that turned out to be a scumbag. Not only a thief that had the audacity to steal money, steal from the one and only Kim Seokjin, but a scumbag that left his wife and daughter.

He sees right through you, and in a way he can relate to you. Although, he's pretty much aware how of a big asshole he truly is. You're both different, yet he can see himself in you. Not entirely though, you're much more pure even with your sharp tongue and look of distaste.

He chuckles lowly, shaking his head. “No,” he answers. “I've never met someone like you.”

Even if it's unattractive, you snort in front of him, obviously not believing him. “Are you saying this to every woman you lay your eyes on?” you bite back, noticing a sly smirk appear on his juicy lips.

“Not every woman's father steals my money,” he points out, noticing the way your eyes flutter, glancing away from him in shame. “So, be a good girl and tell me about yourself.”

You gulp, heart shaking at him calling you a 'good girl'. No one ever talked to you this way. Unsure whether he's just being cunning or if it's his very interesting dark persona, you take a sip from the red wine instead.

He watches you with full attention, eyes not fluttering even for a split second as he patiently waits for you to talk. He's very persistent without using an actual words.

“I'm just a woman, working in the office and in the coffee shop during weekends. Woman that's too low for your standards.” you wave your hand off, taking another sip as a bitter taste of it makes the connect with your tongue.

You're usually not a wine drinker, especially if it's bitter and sour, but this fine expensive wine tastes different than the ones that Hoseok buys.

“Let me decide if you're up to my standards, would you.” he chuckles, shaking his head at you once more while you raise a brow at him.

“I'm not going to be your plaything, Mr. Kim,” you tell him bluntly, not paying too much attention to a small smirk appearing on his lips at you putting some distance between you two. “I believe you've got much more suitable women for that.”

There's no way a man like him is alone during nights. He surely has hookers to make him some company during nights or whenever he pleases. If he's not taken, you don't believe he doesn't have the urge to have sex. Every man does.

He's young, in the best age to start or have something without commitment.

“Nobody said anything about you being my plaything. And I believe they're plenty of other women who'd much more appreciate this dinner but I don't blame you. But I think you shouldn't think about yourself that lowly.” he leans comfortably against the chair.

“Oh, how charming,” you scoff, not believing him a single word. “I don't think about myself lowly. You don't know me, I could have a husband at home.”

He chuckles, the same dark and mocking way only he knows. “You don't.”

The confidence behind his statement sparks a realization inside of you. He knows much more than you knew, starting from the way he knows where you work and know that you've no husband at home. Also, you've got your last name. Maybe you shouldn't think into it too much, maybe he's just smart.

Or, he was testing you.

A triumph grin stretches on his lips, noticing the way you hesitate before you stare in a silent shock at him.

“Maybe I've a fiance.” you murmur, growing annoyed that he figured you out that quickly.

“Hmm, maybe. I'm sure he wouldn't be very fond of you having a dinner with another man.” he muses.

“Don't flatter yourself, this is strictly professional.” you remind him, hinting of the whole purpose of this dinner.

Deep inside, even though this man irks you in many ways, you're enjoying it. One half of you is torn between you thinking this whole dinner was a bad idea, but the other one is enjoying this. You're intrigued with him. He's different than anyone you've ever met.

“I've never said it wasn't,” he responds, irking another wave of annoyance. “Although, I'm not sure if any man could truly handle that mouth of yours.”

One second you glare at him, the other one you're a coughing mess after you've choked on your spit. You straighten up yourself, ignoring his amused eyes dancing on you before you lick your lips.

“I can assure you, I've had enough partners that could handle me.”

You've this urge to prove him that you're not some lonely woman with no actual experiences. It's hard to guess what he thinks all the time, and you're not sure why you just told him what you did. Maybe it's the way he looks at you. As if you were just some innocent woman that is desperate for any attention.

Enough partners. Maybe your one ex-boyfriend that didn't last long, until he had decided to dump you. But he doesn't know that.

And again, he chuckles mockingly at you, digging a knife into your pride.

“What? You don't believe me?” you press, frowning at the man that seems to have the time of his life at your previous comment.

“It's not important what I believe, Ms. Y/L/N. I just don't see you as the type whose life involves around men. I don't think you let that many men get close to you.”

Whatever the fuck he means by that, your puzzled look is an answer for itself.

He doesn't know you and the basic information that his people managed to found out about you, are just that. Basic and plain. He has no idea who are you, yet he sees easily through you. Just as he told you, he doesn't think you're desperate for attention or men in general. Surely, you're both from another worlds with different priorities. Even the way you push him away from you, you're still sitting on the one side of the table, with him at the other one. You want to be here, not just because he's your drive home. You could easily catch a cab or something.

“If I want any man close to me, I let him.” you tell him eagerly, watching how his eyes trail down onto the table, eyeing the shining glasses before he looks back at you.

“Mhm, I'm sure you do.”

And there he is, back to his mocking tone that even stupid person could recognized as his way of meaning the opposite.

And you're going to prove him wrong.

Just as the young waiter comes to your table, asking if you're interested in desert, you politely decline. He looks younger than you, politely asking Seokjin the same thing with timid eyes. You know guys like him, freshly out of college wanting to commitments. He thought he's being subtle when he eyed you whenever he passed the table. His hungry eyes set on you whenever Seokjin's attention was elsewhere.

It's a great opportunity to show him that he's wrong.

But it's a fucking bad idea, considering it's your second glass of wine. You don't usually get this tipsy so quickly and easily. It makes you wonder what kind of wine that is.

However, you're pretty aware of what you're doing when you pull out a pen out of your purse, writing something onto the white napkin. You glance at Seokjin, just as you're putting the pen back into your purse, noticing his eyes settled on you in a slight frown. He can see the outlines of numbers, his gaze darkening as he watches you shooting a confident smile to the young waiter.

The guy's eyebrows shoot up, covered by his fringe as he eyes the napkin that you delicately hand him. His cheeks gets red right away, along with his neck as you open your mouth.

“Call me.” you tell him, licking your lips as he glances at Seokjin, but he's staring at you with hardened gaze at the other side of the table.

Still, he takes Seokjin's lack of reaction as a green light, nodding as an obedient child that's ready to yell in happiness. His mouth ticks as he tries to hide a huge grin, before he coughs.

“Is there anything you'd like to order?”

Even his voice flatters, trying to hide the enthusiasm that he just managed to score a woman, without actually talking to her.

Just as you're handing him your empty glass, you're ready to order another one when Seokjin cuts you off way before you can utter a single word.

“Yes, she'll have a glass of water,”

You frown at him, but he's staring at the younger male. “And I'd like to have that.” he adds, pointing towards the napkin that's clutched in his hand.

The poor guy looks like someone just slapped him into his face, hastily hanging the white napkin with your number on it. You watch Seokjin scrunching it, raising a brow at him before he quickly scurries away, not even glancing your way.

“You proved your point.” he tells you, tossing that crumbled napkin on the table.

“I wasn't trying to prove anything,” you grumble, knowing how fucking wrong you are. “And I'm not drunk.”

It's true. You're not. You're completely fine, although that wine definitely gave you more courage but you feel like you've been more riled up by Seokjin himself.

“Oh, I know you aren't,” he says. “But you'd slowly get there, if you continued.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you're not surprised when a different waiter comes to bring you your glass of water. You can't help it but glance at Seokjin when that happens, but his eyes are focused on you, showing no emotion or reaction. He's aware that he probably scared that poor guy.

The dinner is over, right after you drink all of that water with Seokjin looking at you. You barely put your glass down, before his voice resounds.

“Come on, I'll drive you home.”

And for the first time that night, you actually feel disappointment pang in your chest, for unspeakable and unreasonable reasons.  

taglist: <is in the comments> comment on the most recent chapter to be added to the taglist

#networkbangtan #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin angst #seokjin drabble #seokjin scenario #Kim Seokjin au #bts drabble #bts drabble series #personasintro

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-12)

Word count: 5.4K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Feels, pining, fluff ;)

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: I am so excited to see what you think of this chapter! I haven’t made a secret of the fact that this is one of my absolute favorite chapters. I had a lot of fun writing it <3

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​​. You are a goddess. I love you <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

Sam regretted it the moment he stepped into the bar. The lights were dim, the music was hip and it was too full of people. What was more, a lot of those faces seemed familiar. Maybe he had seen them around the campus?

Sam found a corner booth, away from the bar counter and the pool table. It was isolated and about as quiet as any table was going to get. He drew out his phone and texted Jody.

“I’m here. Where are you?”

Sighing, he locked the screen on his phone. Sam was beyond exhausted. He had stayed up the night, driven for close to twelve hours in total to and fro from LA, and went cut to cut with one of the fiercest attorneys he had ever met. At least, James was out for good. The look on his face at the sight of Sam had been worth everything. Sam had been so scared that he wouldn’t be able to get the kid out. Now that he had, all he wanted to do was fall in bed and not wake up till Sunday. 

Even as that thought took shape, he knew he was lying to himself. More than anything, he wanted to find Y/N and thank her for her help last night, let her know how the hearing went. If someone at Acton Gris had helped him, he would have taken them along for the hearing because the effort deserved it. A part of him had wanted to ask Y/N. She would be allowed, since she was a law student accompanying the attorney, but Sam didn’t think he could handle being in her presence for so long. Besides, she’d had classes in the morning. Either way, she deserved to know the verdict. He had contemplated emailing her, then thought better of it. Maybe he would drop by at the library to see if it was her shift. It was only 12. The library would be open for at least two more hours.

He banished the thought as quickly as it appeared, though, physically shaking his head. He needed to factor in the consideration that she probably didn’t want to keep running into him all the time.

His phone pinged. It was Jody letting him know that Alex was yet to get home from some party of her own and that she would be late, if she came at all. 

Fantastic. Simply fantastic.

He should have just gone to bed. Being in bars at midnight? He was too old for this. It had been Jody’s idea to begin with! She was the one who had made plans for the weekend and was standing him up now.

“Professor Winchester?”

Sam groaned internally before seeing who had called him. It was a glimmeringly clad freshman from his class. 

Could the evening get any worse? He had to run into his students.

“Ohmygosh! I can’t believe you’re here,” gushed the girl. Sam vaguely remembered that her name was Staten.

The other girl whose name Sam didn’t know at all nodded vigorously. “You’re so cool!”

Both of them were bright eyed and obviously tipsy. That was a combination for trouble if Sam had ever seen one. 

He got up. “Nice to see you ladies,” he said sliding out of the booth. “I’m going to step out for just a second. Y’all have fun.”

“Mr. Winchester,” one of them called, but Sam was out the back door. Few years of teaching had taught him enough in that department. During his early days, years ago, when he first started as a visiting faculty, he would insist that the class call him by his first name. He had been ignorant about how it came across and only after a couple of students had made a pass at him had he grown wary and stuck to being addressed by his last name. It never got less weird, having people address him as ‘Mr. Winchester,’ but he was used to it now.

Stepping outside, Sam breathed in the cold air, wondering again what the hell he was doing here.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Jody.

She picked up on the second ring. “I’m so sorry, Sam!” She apologised profusely. “Alex’s tyre gave out and she’s stranded a couple miles out.”

“Shit. Do you want me to pick her up?”

“No, it’s alright,” she reassured. “She’ll feel awful about you driving out to get her. I’m heading out now. Please just wait a little longer. I feel horrible about keeping you waiting, especially since it was my idea.”

He looked at the watch. It was quarter past twelve. “Jody…” he sighed.

“Okay, wait for just fifteen more minutes,” she bargained. “If I’m not there by then, you can go home and I’ll owe you drinks for the rest of the year.”

“Rest of your life, and we have a deal,” Sam smiled despite himself. “Okay. Fifteen minutes.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” She said, clearly amused. “That’s how you become a good lawyer. Okay, Fine.”

Sam laughed.

“You know I love you, Winchester.”

“I know you do!”

Sam put the phone back in his pocket. He wouldn’t have known what to do with his life if Jody hadn’t stepped in and taught him how to look after another person who was solely dependent on him. She was the best friend and mentor he could have asked for.

He slid back inside the bar, determined to avoid any and each student he saw. Especially the drunk ones. Luck was on his side. The whole freshman gang had moved to the pool table, removed from the main area. This late he would have expected the crowd to thin out, but hoards of people were on the dance floor moving their bodies to the rhythm of the song. Taking advantage of the crowd, Sam went over to the bar counter.

“Jack. Neat!” He asked the woman behind the counter. She had long dark hair and a mischievous smile.

“Coming right up, handsome!” She winked.

Sam smiled awkwardly as she slid the glass.

“Hey, Mister! Repeat this one!”

Sam’s head snapped in the direction of the voice. It was loud and bossy and Y/N’s.

“Y/N?” The bartender in front of him squinted at the girl two benches from him, clearly surprised.

Sam would have moved sooner, but he was awestruck at the sight of her. Y/N was wearing a silky, satiny top that was cut low and clung to her body like a second skin over tight jeans and heeled boots. Her hair cascaded over her bare shoulders like a nymph’s. Sam’s throat went dry.

The bartender rushed over to her. “Christ, Y/N!” she said. “What’re you doing here?”

Y/N looked at her with wide, surprised eyes. “Pam! OH MY GOD, PAM! It’s you! 

“Yes, I work here,” the bartender, whose name was apparently Pam, said. “Rob, how much has she had to drink?”

The guy shrugged. “One vodka, three tequillas. I don’t know about before.”

“Y/N?” Pam patted Y/N’s face. “Are you by yourself?”

“Kinda!” Y/N giggled, tossing her hair back in a smooth flip. Sam’s heartbeat spiked at the sight. He absolutely couldn’t wrench his eyes away.

Y/N bent over the counter, then jerked her thumb at the freshman gang and whispered conspiratorially. “I’m with those guys over there, but I don’t think they care if I wander off. Can I tell you a secret? Most of them are douchebags anyway.”

“Rob!” Pam barked. “Do we have a standby? Rinny? Or just anyone else?”

“It’s just us tonight.”

“Well, fuck!” Pam swore.

“Y/N, honey,” she tried to get Y/N to listen to her, but Y/N was already trying to sit up on the bar, blowing kisses at Pam. “You’re the best, Pam. Just the absolute best and I love how much you love my cookies.”

“Everyone loves your cookies, honey, but you need to get down.”

“Okay… Okay,” Y/N winked. She slipped as she tried to get down from the counter. Reflexively Sam moved, catching her before she crashed to the ground.

“I got you, don’t worry,” he said in a low voice only to her and she looked up at him with wide confused eyes. 

“Hey, get your hands off of her, Mister.” Pam hissed, looking scarily angry. “I said, let go of her. Right now.”

Sam did so immediately, but Y/N didn’t let go of his shirt. “I know her,” he tried to explain to Pam, who looked like she was on the verge of calling the bouncers.

“Yeah, that’s right, you know her,” Pam grimaced. “Very believable.”

“I swear, I know her,” Sam said, wildly trying to explain. “Her name’s Y/N Y/L/N. She’s a law student at the university. First year, hails from Kansas and feels insanely cold.” Sam started spewing random facts he could think of. “Her favourite book is To kill a mockingbird. She bakes amazing muffins-”

She likes her coffee with very little milk, is scared of ducks and has a birthmark in the middle of her lower back. She likes listening to classical music and waking up early…

Meanwhile, Y/N was still looking at him in wonderment, shushing herself.

“How do you know all that about her?” Pam looked at him with suspicion and mingled curiosity.

“I’m her-” it hurt to say- “ her friend.”

She still didn’t look completely convinced.

“Y/N?” Pam asked the girl in Sam’s arms. “You know this man?”

Don’t be that far gone, Sam prayed internally. Please don’t be that far gone.

“Pfftt,” Y/N scoffed, with such force that she lost her footing again. “It’s Sam! I’d sooner forget myself than not know him! What sort of dumb question is this?”

Sam.

She had said his name. It had caressed her lips. Was it even possible to be jealous of your own name?

Pam  raised her eyebrows.

“Look,” she said, “I can’t leave my shift to drop her home and no one I can call will be up this late. Y/N clearly knows you. Do you think you can drop her home?”

“I-I don’t know where she stays!”

Pam quickly wrote down an address. “It’s just a couple blocks away. I’m going to call her cell in a while, so you better not try anything funny.”

Sam wanted to roll his eyes, but he was too terrified at the prospect of being left alone with Y/N. He glanced around to see a couple of looks coming their way.

“Yeah, I’ll take her,” he said finally. “The hangover will hit her hard in a while, it’s better that she’s home then. Trust me, I know.”

Pam took one look from his face to Y/N wrapped around his torso. “Thanks, man.”

He nodded and then slowly guided Y/N out. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

“You know where I live?” She asked, tilting her head to one side.

“I do now.” Fortunately or unfortunately it was right next to Sam’s street. 

He adjusted her so that she was tucked under his side. Her fingers were still boldly clutching at his undershirt, sending shocks of sensation throughout his body. 

“This way, c’mon,” He guided her forward.

“Stop pushing me. I. Can’t. Walk. Any. Faster!” She whined. “These shoes suck.”

“Okay, let’s just sit for a while.” He slowly steered her to a bench on the street. It wasn’t right outside the bar, hence, out of clear view. Sam lowered her onto the bench and she promptly pulled her feet up, trying to slide the zipper on her shoes. They honestly looked like a death trap of sorts. The zipper stuck out adamantly as she yanked at it with all her might.

Hands trembling, he caught hold of hers. “Wait. Let me.”

Slowly, with a steadier hand, Sam dragged down the zippers on both her shoes- carefully, to not touch her skin- freeing her feet. She drew into herself, massaging the reddened skin on the arch and the back of her heel. 

“Stupid Meg,” she muttered. “Shouldn’t have let her put me in these.” 

She massaged her toes. “It hurts.”

“Will you let me take a look at it?” He asked hesitantly. Y/N twisted her body and put both her feet straight into his lap. 

“Here! Look all you want.”

Her hair was fluttering lightly in the wind and despite the chill, she wasn’t reaching for the leather jacket. Looking at her was like looking at the sun. He wanted to, but couldn’t, because it hurt at the same time. The satin of her blouse was kissing her soft skin in all the right places.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Y/N teased collusively. She scooted closer, almost sitting completely in his lap now. “Can I tell you a secret? I think about it, too.”

Sam pushed her away lightly and God it hurt to do it, but she wasn’t in her senses right now. Sober, she wouldn’t have wanted any of this.

“We should get you home!” He said in a tight voice.

“No!” She was adamant. “Why are you in such a hurry to get away from me?”

Oh the irony. “You were the one who left me, Y/N.” 

Y/N not having heard a word of it was scooting closer to him again. She laid her head on his shoulder, and snaked her arms around his waist. Sam stilled, not even daring to breathe.

“Let’s just stay here forever. You and me.” She laughed all of a sudden. “This is literally the best dream I’ve ever had. I can actually feel you.” She hugged him tighter to prove her point. “See?”

“Is this what your dreams are made up of?” 

“The good ones, yeah,” she sighed tiredly. “But mostly they’re just bad and I’m cold and there’s so much water, Sam. There was so much water.”

Suddenly she started shivering and Sam pulled the jacket over her shoulders.

She looked up with tears in her eyes. “Sam, the water! And there’s so much glass. It hurts.”

A deep pain and grief that he hadn’t felt in years threatened to swallow Sam whole. “Oh, baby,” he said, at last throwing his arms around her. “It’s not real. It happened a long time ago.”

“I can’t breathe. There’s too much water.” Her words were slow and slurred. Despite that, the picture she painted was horrifying.

The memories all flashed before his eyes like it had happened yesterday. But he refused to go under. Not now.

Sam allowed himself to comfort her and be comforted by her. In this one thing, they were together. He held her as close as he had dreamed for years, yet not truly believing that this was actually happening. She smelled just the same, and the way her body curved into his hadn’t changed at all.

Sam held her like that for an immeasurable time. It felt both like an eternity and mere seconds all at once. A crazed traveller wouldn’t be more desperate for an Oasis than Sam felt for her touch. And knowing that this would end soon, that these were stolen moments made it heaven and hell at the same time.

“Y/N,” he tried again. “We need to get you home.” I need to get you home.

She didn’t reply.

“Are you asleep?”

“Yes!” She muttered and in spite everything Sam had to stifle a laugh. 

She had no footwear on, after getting herself out of those insane shoes. Sam removed his flip flops and slid them under her feet. They were way too big, but it was better than nothing. 

“Up you come.” He hoisted her slowly to her feet.

“Whoa!” She said, “everything is spinning so fast.”

“Just hold on to me. The spinning will go away.” He guided her slowly. “This way now.”

Her grasp on his shoulder slipped, pulling his shirt down with him.

“Oooohhh fancy,” she snickered, trying to touch the thin chain around his neck.

Sam fixed his shirt with the other hand so it wasn’t visible. She didn’t need to know.

It must look absurd, the two of them walking down the street. Sam, barefoot, carrying a pair of her heels in one hand and holding her by the waist with the other. Meanwhile, Y/N was humming lightly to herself, giggling at silly things, slipping and sliding in his flip flops.

At long last, they reached the address that Pam had given. Sam knew the building, he walked past it everyday to get home. The building had a solid, high compound wall, covered in vines. Keeping a tight hold on Y/N, he pushed the wrought iron gate. It creaked as it opened, leaving Sam staring at a beautiful front yard. There was curving shrubbery around the small circular garden and a mermaid shaped fountain flowing water in a circular basin with seating around it.

“Hahahaaa Judgy Judy isn’t too pleased with us,” Y/N told him sagely. “She hates people who drink even more than people who turn up late.”

“Why did you drink anyway?” He asked. “You don’t even like doing it.”

Y/N broke off, stumbling into the path. She glared at him. “Oh, so it’s okay for you to go out on dates with other people but it’s not okay for me to drink?”

That’s what she thought? That he had been in the bar for a date? Was that why she had drank?

Sam’s mind was reeling. If what she was saying was true, it meant that it mattered to her what Sam did or didn’t do with his life. Unless she still cared.

“You really think I would do that?” Abruptly, he was angry. If she cared enough to be mad with him, why had she left him to begin with?

Y/N had already moved on from the conversation. She was staring up at the mermaid’s face.

“Sam? You remember that time we went to the fair and rode the ferris wheel?”

He did remember. “You fainted immediately after.”

“Yeah, this feels exactly like that…” Y/N staggered on the spot and Sam rushed to catch her. The minute his hands found her arm, she threw up spectacularly on the front of his shirt, retching till there wasn’t anything left. Then, she promptly passed out in his arms.

He stood there for a second, looking about him, but no help was going to arrive at 2 in the night.

This was bad, very very bad. He had hoped to drop her home and then go back to his own place to wallow about how unfair the world was. What was he supposed to do now?

He had no clue if she stayed by herself. He couldn’t just leave her by herself when she was sick.

Slowly, he led her to the seating around the fountain. She laid down on it, groaning lightly.  

Sam removed his shirt, bundled it up and using some of the water from the fountain, wiped the puke from his jeans and Y/N’s feet along with his flip flops. Then he bent down and swooped her in his arms, carrying her inside the building. Getting into the lift and to her apartment was easy enough. Wrestling the key out of the purse and then unlocking the door all the while supporting her wasn’t so much.

It was pretty clear to Sam that there was no one else in the apartment when he entered. All that noise would have brought someone out by now. He barely looked at the living room, before laying Y/N down on the sofa there. There was a kitchenette to the right side. Sam poured a glass of water, added a spoon of sugar and a pinch of salt after looking through the jars. He walked back to where Y/N was curled up on the sofa and coaxed her to drink it.

She made a face, refusing to take a sip.

“Trust me, you’ll thank me tomorrow.”

“No.”

She was so stubborn sometimes. “Please? For me?”

“For you?” Her expression was guileless, it was almost his undoing, but Sam pushed on. “Yes, for me.”

She took the glass from him and downed it in one go, distaste clear on her expression.

The phone started ringing right when she put the glass down. Sam had to fish it from her purse. The caller ID read ‘Pamela Barnes.’

“Here,” Sam handed the phone to Y/N. “It’s for you.”

“Hello!” She sang. “Yeah, yeah… I’m home…”

Sam didn’t hang around for the rest of the conversation. He returned the glass to the kitchen and made more of the Sugar-salt solution in a bottle.

Y/N was idly playing with a lock of her hair.

“Can we go to bed now? Please?” She mumbled drowsily.

“You,” Sam stressed “are going to bed. Which one is your room?”

Sleepily, she pointed towards the door next to the kitchenette. He lifted her once more in his arm, thinking how bizarre all of this was as he walked towards the room. It felt nothing short of euphoric to hold her like this, like he was on some sort of wild once in a lifetime adventure, even if touching her like this used to be normal for him once upon a time. He gently laid her down on the bed. She stretched out on the sheets immediately, a smile on her lips.

He could have stared and stared. Sam decided to take one long look at her, memorising the exact color of her hair, the fullness of her lips and the rhythm of her breaths. Just as he turned to leave, Y/N’s hand shot out to grab the hem of his T-shirt.

“Why? Why did it happen to us?” She said, her face drawn in lines of anguish. “We were good people. You still are. Then, why?”

Sam took a deep breath. “Because life isn’t fair. You of all people should know that by this point. And I’ve hardly been a good person since.” 

“Shhhhh….” She put a finger to her lip. “You’re the best, Sam. You always have been.”

“Then why did you leave me? Why couldn’t you trust me enough to stay? Have enough faith in me to know that I could make it okay for us? I loved you more than anything, Y/N. And you left me anyway.” He knew full well that she wouldn’t remember a thing in the morning, she was barely even listening now. So how did it matter what he said?

“Don’t go,” she moaned. 

“Y/N… you know I can’t stay.”

“Please… Nothing’s right when you’re not here.”

In an odd twisted way, it was the truth. Nothing was right when she wasn’t with him.

“Please, Sam,” she sighed. “Don’t leave me. Promise me.”

He gave in. How could he not? “I promise,” he said finally. “I’ll stay tonight.” 

She smiled contentedly and her breathing evened out soon after.

Slowly, Sam disentangled his t-shirt from his grip.

In the bathroom, he washed his bundled up shirt, cleaning it completely, then used it to wash off whatever was left on his jeans and t-shirt. Thankfully, Y/N’s clothes hadn’t been spoilt and didn’t need any cleaning. The apartment had a beautiful balcony that overlooked the garden below. He hung his shirt on the railing to dry it in the breeze. 

Sam checked on Y/N once more under the guise of placing the water bottle next to her bed. She was splayed wildly now. The straps of her blouse had slid further down her arm, revealing the tops of her breasts. He looked away. As lightly as he could, Sam freed the covers from beneath her and drew them over her, tucking her comfortably underneath them. Then he made his way to the living room sofa, closing Y/N’s bedroom door after her. 

The sofa was much too small to accommodate him, but Sam managed to lie on his back, legs folded and body wedged between the two armrests. After a while of twisting and turning, he rested his head on one armrest and threw his legs over the other, staring at the apartment walls and decorations. Most of it was too delicate, like the filigree on the curtains and the carved screens dividing part of the kitchenette from the rest of the living room. That certainly wasn’t Y/N’s taste. Either it came with the apartment or her room mate had put it there. There were some things, however, that were distinctly Y/N- the flowers and plants in the balcony, the solid wood coffee stand and the classy oven. The little China decorating the kitchen bar must’ve been her grandmothers. Nothing… absolutely nothing in the house proved that he had ever played a part in her life. Sam decidedly curbed the disappointment and bitterness he felt.

So, she had moved on from him. Hadn’t the past month taught him as much? 

A month ago he wouldn’t have believed that he’d end up a room away from a very drunk Y/N. So close, yet so far. He closed his eyes, recalling how it felt to have her arms around his waist, feel the press of her body against his as he lifted her in his arms. He could live out the rest of his life holding onto those memories, even if it never happened again, even if she never remembered it…

“Who the fuck are you?”

Sam’s eyes snapped open. A girl was standing over him with a ferocious expression.

He sat up groggily, disoriented about his surroundings. Who was this girl?

“I asked who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my apartment?”

Sam groaned, blinking his eyes in the still dark room. “I’m Sam. I helped Y/N home last night.”

“Where’s she? Is she okay?” 

The shift in her tone was sudden, from angry to concerned.

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Sam yawned. “She just had too much to drink.”

“And how do you know her?”

“I’m her- “ It physically ached to not say it. “I’m her… friend.”

The girl, who Sam assumed was her roommate, Meg, raised an eyebrow. “Friend, huh? How come she’s never talked about you before?”

Because she doesn’t care anymore.

Suddenly Sam was very tired. “Look, I’ve known her since a long time. We lost touch a while ago. I met her at college.”

Meg didn’t seem very convinced. She harrumphed and crossed her arms.

“I’m going to head out, now that you’re back,” he said, standing up and straightening his back. It was completely screwed. He walked over to the balcony and retrieved his now dried shirt. Meg eyed it dubiously.

“You didn’t try anything with her, did you?”

Again, the irony of someone else being concerned that he of all people would try to harm Y/N twisted his mouth into a bitter smirk.

“Look, mister…” Meg started and Sam put his hands up. He was too exhausted to hold this argument. 

“I just put her to bed. That’s all,” he said. “Heads up, she has terrible hangovers. You might want to keep the bathroom accessible and the Advil ready.”

With that he stalked out of the room. 

It wasn’t a long walk to his home from there, barely even five minutes, but Sam’s head was buzzing with thoughts. Last night everything had been so hurried and he was the only one who could have helped her out. But what now?

He and Y/N had barely started talking. He still didn’t know what was going on in her head. Last night had changed all of that, at least for him. If it had been hard to not think about her before, it was damn well impossible now. She was consuming his every thought, shadowing every emotion. What if she remembered everything she had said last night? What if she’d actually meant those things?

“Don’t go” 

“Please… Nothing’s right when you’re not here.”

“Please, Sam, Don’t leave me. Promise me.”

Each time his name had fallen off her lips, it was like she was resurrecting his long dead heartbeat. He wanted to dare, he wanted to hope and believe that there was some chance.

But what if she didn’t remember anything at all? Sam knew that he would die inside if that happened. It was one thing to not feel hope, and another altogether to kill it with one's own hands. 

His mind was a cacophony of noises and emotions all warring against each other as he reached his house. On the door steps, sat a solitary figure, waiting for him.

“Jody?”

The sky was just starting to lighten. What was she doing here?

He frowned at her, wondering what on earth could have brought her here this early in the morning. She stared back evenly; there was none of the usual warmth in her eyes, instead they were full of distrust and disappointment.

“Jody, is everything okay?” 

“You tell me, Winchester,” she said, coming to stand right next to him, her stature severe.

“I-I don’t know what you mean.”

“Really?” She spat. “Don’t you think you’ve been acting differently? At first I thought, being by yourself was getting to you.”

“Jody, I seriously don’t understand.”

“Fine I’ll cut to the chase. Where were you last night?”

It was the last thing Sam had expected. He couldn't tell her the truth. Where would he even start with the truth? “I was-”

She raised her hand and Sam flinched at the hostile expression on her face. “Save it, Sam. I know exactly what you were doing last night. I saw you sitting on the bench outside the bar with that girl.”

Sam jerked upright.

“I’ve known you for years, Sam. Years. I taught you everything I knew. I’ve never been prouder of any student I’ve had and this is what you do with all that trust? This is how you abuse your power?”

Her words rang louder than they should have in Sam’s ears. “Jody-”

“Don’t even try to make excuses. At first, when I saw her in your office, I didn’t think anything of it. Sure, she looked close to tears, but a lot of freshmen are always anxious. But then I saw you in the library with her. The way you looked at Y/N? That’s not how a teacher looks at their student!” Jody looked disgusted. “And tonight? Y/N was clearly drunk, for Christ’s sake! How can you possibly justify the way you were holding her?”

“Because she’s my WIFE!” He shouted, breathing hard, feeling the heat coming off of his face. “I married her and I love her!” 

It was beyond cathartic to finally say those words out loud. Up until this point Sam hadn’t realised that since he had seen Y/N in his class, those very words had been strangling him, poisoning him. Now that he had finally said them, the strength in his legs gave away. He sat down on the steps with a thud.

Jody’s face had gone very white. “Sam…”

“Tonight was nothing more than me helping a girl who needed it. Nothing more than that,” he said through gritted teeth, blinking rapidly at the wetness on his lashes. “You know I respect you, Jody, but even you don’t get to tell me if I can hold my own wife.”

She sat down next to him, now at a complete loss of words. “Is this the same girl…?”

Sam nodded, unable to form words.

“Sam, I’m so sorry,” she said, drawing him close. “I didn’t know. You should have said something.”

“Said what?” He said through a thick throat, angry with himself for showing weakness now when he had held it together for so long. “That my wife who walked out on me years ago because she didn't trust me to save our marriage is suddenly back? As my student after six years? Is that what I should have declared when I didn’t even know if she wanted to see my face? Is that what I should’ve said?”

“Oh, you sweet boy. I’m so sorry,” Jody ran her hands over his shoulders. “Sorry that you’ve been suffering and sorry that I doubted you at all. You don’t need to say anything now. C’mere.”

Firmly she drew him towards her and threw her arms around his neck. Sam hugged back, closing his eyes tightly so that the tears rolled over into the cotton of her shirt.

“Shhhh…” she said. “It’s going to be alright.”

Sam didn’t know if there was any truth in her words, but he allowed himself to be comforted, allowed himself to draw some warmth from his oldest friend here. Allowed himself to start healing.

**************************  

A/N 2: *Wiggles eyebrows* Who all saw it coming? ;)

PLEASE let me know what you think of this story?

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GIF Credit (It wouldn’t let me put it before the cut :/)

ALLU taglist

@feelmyroarrrr  @gabavaldman​  @im-a-light-child​  @cosicas-cuquis​  @bllyjianne​  @hoboal87​  @i-is-for-inspiring​  @daughterleftbehind​  @wackiekebab​  @mylovelydame21​   @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba​  @superbadassnatural​  @bellastellaluna​  @babypink224221​  @badlittlehabit99​  @anathewierdo​  @sams-bubblegum-bitch​  @damn-it-now-im-obsessed  @fandomoverdose666​  @superstarmarvel​  @atc74​  @aiofheavenandhell​  @rebel-author-chick​  @death-unbecomes-you​  @cookiechipdough​  @kbl1313​  @linki-locks11​  @miss-nerd95​  @sunflowers-n-rocknroll​  @stoneyggirl​  @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​

#sam winchester x reader #sam x reader fluff #lawyer!Sam x reader #professor!Sam x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester fanfiction #spn fanfiction #allu 12 #allu part 12 #anawritesspn #Ana writes ALLU #anawrites #q

[redhawtriot]

Operation Unvirgin (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I had this idea the other day that Bakugou probably would be super celibate. Like he is very goal oriented and doesn't like to attach himself to others, so I feel like he wouldn't have ever bothered with girls or even beat his meat or anything (the shit’s fucking perverted okay?! how could any decent person touch themselves?)

But he hears that Deku is boutta get laid and he gets pissed bc WHAT? That loser is gonna beat him in something?! So he goes on a mission to loose his virginity before Deku. 

So I wrote the NSFW piece of this and it was UTTER GARBAGE, but I know that many of you guys are writers so think of this as a very informal request: Anyone can write the second half of this and tag me and I will repost it (except no non-con plz). It doesn’t matter how long it is.

If this completely flops I will ... sigh... post my shitty NSFW next week... (But please spare me and yourselves from that outcome) 

HnM💕

Bakugou never could understand all the hype surrounding the opposite sex.

The blond man would wrack his brain as he tried to remember the exact moment where his fellow peers stopped looking at girls like the enemy and started looking at them like walking deities, mindlessly floating behind them as if an invisible scent enchanted their spirits. Sometimes he felt like a lone soldier in sustaining self-respect.

In his isolated state, he only watched in disgust as freaks like Mineta and Kaminari drooled over women and reduced themselves into warm bodied zombies in the presence of a vagina. Pathetic.

He would never in a million years let a woman rule over him. He had seen how his hag of a mother treated his father, and he would rather stick his face in a vat of acid than have his soul belong to someone like that.

His stupid mom always told him that he would probably meet someone in high school that would change his mind, but there he was, the night after graduation, victorious in his pursuit of staying the fuck away from crazy broads like her.

In fact, this ridiculous graduation party that Kirishima had dragged him to was probably the last time he would see most of these extras, since he doubted many of them would make it past being D-listers or side-kicks—and that was him being generous.

The colorful beams of light took turns fading in and out of the dark room as the heavy bass of multiple speakers pounded into his body, sending a flurry of vibrations in his abdomen. Although, Bakugou would never admit this out loud, he actually enjoyed this scenery. The stomping of the music reminded him a lot of his own quirk and the lights weren’t completely hideous.

Yeah, as long as no one at this shitty party tried to talk to him or get on his nerves he would be just fine—

“Baku-brooooo!”

God Dammit.

“Hey, dude!” Kaminari threw a sloppy arm over the angrier blond’s shoulders as Kirshima, Deku and Mina all followed behind him through the dense party crowd. Now, if this had been two years ago, Kaminari just might have found himself short an appendage through an explosive altercation; however, throughout his high school career, Bakugou found that simply ignoring the idiots was usually enough to deter them from trying to converse with him.

So Bakugou swallowed the increasing rage that was bubbling in his throat and simply scoffed instead, swatting the man’s arm away from him and turning his back on him and his incoming entourage. Kaminari only laughed in response, “C’mon bro we are officially graduates! Ditch the bad boy act and loosen up a little—we are men now! Just ask Midoriya!” he slyly suggested.

The sound of his rival’s name piqued his interest, yet the stubborn man still refused to give the short-circuited idiot the satisfaction of knowing such a thing, so he continued to glare away from him as Izuku spoke up, “N-no it’s nothing really… Uraraka and I have just been together for a while. Honestly, I don’t even know if I will go for it. I don’t wanna be a jerk or anything bringing it up to her! Forget I said anything at all, actually!” the young man frantically waved his hands as his face became obviously red even in the dimly lit atmosphere.

Mina snickered as her hands found their way to her hips “The shy guy act is cute and all Midoriya, but every girl wants confidence in bed! I am sure she wouldn’t mind if the two of you at least talked about it,” she bumped the green haired boy with her hips as Bakugo furrowed his eyebrows even deeper.

Kirishima was the next to speak up “GO for it, man! There worst that can happen is that she’ll say no!” he heavily patted the concerned Izuku’s back, “But the manliest thing for you to do is respect her boundaries,” he quickly added in.

The green haired man shook his head at the ground, “I should have just kept my big mouth shut...”

“She won’t say no,” Mina sang with a mischievous expression drawn across her face.

The three boys turned their attention to her with confused glances before Kaminari spoke up, “C’mon Mina! You know something don’t you? Spill it!” he begged.

Mina looked as if she were contemplating for only a moment before he gestured for the men to come closer, “Don’t tell her I told you, but…” she trailed off for dramatic effect, “She was totally gonna try to seduce you tonight, Midoriya!!” She winked. Bakugou’s ears perked up at this statement,

“WhAT?” both him and Izuku cried out.

Kaminari and Kirishima laughed at the blond’s outburst, “So you were listening after all, huh Bakugou?” the latter questioned.

“What do you think of the situation, buddy?” Kaminari leaned into the explosive man with a smirk.

“I’m not your damn buddy,” Bakugou bumped the electrical dumbass away from him, “I think you idiot perverts need to stop worrying about whose panties you’re gonna fail getting into and worry about not being able to keep food on your fucking plates when your careers flop!” he barked as the four blinked in surprise at his sudden outburst.

Kaminari saw this as the perfect opportunity to mess with him, “Bakugou are you… a virgin?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“MIND YOUR OWN DAMN BUSINESS, PIKACHU,” the man under interrogation screeched.

“He totally is!” Kaminari threw his hands up in feign shock, causing Mina to giggle.

Izuku awkwardly shifted on the balls of his feet as Kiri loudly spoke up, “Hey guys, it’s not manly to butt into another man’s personal life like that.”

Bakugou ignored his defender and continued screaming at dumb and dumber through the loud music, “S-Shut the hell up!” his face was dusted in a light shade of red as he spoke. He tried to shake these foreign feelings of embarrassment away. So fucking what if he was a virgin?

“Deku still ain’t shit! Who fucking cares if he’s gonna get his dick dirty?! I could fuck any of these bimbos!” he loudly called out, causing a few girls crowding the area to throw him wary glances before they cautiously moved away. The group of friends noticed this and Kamari and Mina failed miserably at stifling their laughs at the scene.

“It’s ‘make love to’, dude…” Kirishima quietly correct his angry friend in a feeble attempt to save his future endeavors with women.

“NO. FUCK! I said what I meant dammit!” he yelled as he once again fought away the redness on his face, “I could fuck any one of these bitches within an inch of their life!” he furiously vowed.

“Any, huh?” Mina questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s what I fucking said, Raccoon eyes!”

“Then how about…” the yellow irises scanned the dense room for a moment before a smile split her face. She happily pointed a finger, “that one!”

Bakugou followed her finger through the crowd and found you on the other side of the room. The fading lights intermittently illuminated your features, but he knew exactly who you were— Y/N L/N.  The only other person at U.A. known for being just as proud as himself if not more. Also known for having a slough of men on your heels at any given moment, but not giving a single one of them any significant time of day.

Mina snickered at Bakugou’s sudden silence, causing him to throw a glare at her. He fought of any creeping feeling of disheartened as he began a march toward your dancing figure, “Fucking easy” he roughly hyped himself up before approaching you.

“Hey,” he barked roughly. It didn’t really come off as much of a greeting and had more of a threatening tone to it, but in your shocked state you could only offer a half-hearted smile at the daunting man before returning to the conversation that you were having with your friends.

However, after a while, you noticed that your friends were distracted as their scared eyes kept darting behind you. He was still there wasn’t he?

You rolled your eyes before throwing a glare in his direction, “Do you fucking want something, dickhead?” you snapped.

“I SHOULD—” he began to threaten but he clamped his mouth shut and bottled up his feelings of rage from being disrespected before he continued, “You…” he barked, an unfamiliar feeling of uncertainty gripping at his chest, “I want you,” he said sternly. He had heard Kaminari say some stupid shit like this before and it worked. If it worked for an idiot like him then surely—

Bakugou’s thoughts were cut off as you simply threw your head back in a fit of laughter before turning your back to him to converse with your friends again, “Anyway,” you loudly began before beginning to talk to you friends again.

Bakugou’s face contorted in aghast uncertainty before he looked back to his classmates. Kaminari was giving him a thumbs down, Mina was giggling like crazy, Kirishima was beaming him a reassuring smile and Deku was no where to be found. Fuck! he probably went off to find Uraraka!

The thought set a competitive fire in his chest as he looked back toward you, “Let’s--“ he stopped himself to re-frame his approach. He thought of the words of encouragement that shitty hair might give him in this moment,

‘Treat her like a queen!’ ‘Ladies love a man with a code! Don’t tell her what to do, ask her!’

“Do... you want to dance,” he forced himself to ask through slightly gritted teeth. This was utterly humiliating.

“You think you can handle it?” you joked through a small smirk before eyeing him up and down. The man only averted his glare from you in response as he scowled at a nearby wall. You gave a small laugh at the display. It was almost childish how he was acting.

You suddenly noticed the red tint that was adorning his cheeks, sending a wave of excitement throughout your body. A sudden predacious urge clutched your abdomen at the sight.

“Okay,” you smiled after wetting your lips. You leaned into him before grabbing his forearm and leading him deep into the hot pool of dancing bodies. He stiffly followed after you.

If he thinks he can handle it then you’ll just have to show him how wrong he is...

#bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #mha #my hero fanfic #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki Bakugou #bnha smut #mha smut #reader input

[aromantic-romance-writer]

Giyu Tomioka x Fem! Reader [A happiness that I can never leave]

Read Chapter 202 and I thank the heavens that it didn't make me cry too much.

But the sight of a bloody Giyu breaks my heart. Y'all had no idea how painful it was for me when I saw him cry ;;;;

So I leave you, A GIYU X READER

Enjoy!

Crunch. Crunch. The snow crunched with every step the Water Pillar took. Such a pure color, the snow. He was envious of it. He was tainted, impure. He bears so much sorrow and suffering everyday. But it wasn't as much as burden he has to carry on his shoulders every single day.

His mismatched haori was a weight on his shoulders. It symbolizes his guilt. That he's a fake. That he doesn't deserve a position to save lives, as he was the reason why his own best friend died.

He stops for a moment, listening carefully. A distant cry of a woman.

...Then again, the snow can be tainted with different impurites and evil, such as...

Blood.

He starts running, following the trail. Faster. Faster. He can't let anyone else die this time.

The woman was covered in her dead mother and brother's blood, as well as her own. She has used the last of her strength from summoning a cry for help.

"We both know your efforts are useless." She trembled against the cold, and under the blood-thirsty eyes of a demon.

"Don't look at me like that, sweetheart." the demon smiled, sharp and blood-stained teeth exposed. The woman's vision is getting blurry as she clutched on to her side, trying to stop the bleeding of the wound. He caressed her cheek, making her flinch. "You're making this hard for the both of us. That must hurt. I can make the pain go--" he stops mid-sentence, wide-eyed. He quickly stood up and cursed to himself. He gave her one last look of loathing, before running away.

She can finally relax. Even just a little bit. She couldn't feel the pain anymore. She stared at her dead mother and brother, who were trying to protect each other. Hot tears stung her eyes. She's alone. Alone in this cruel world. And she'll die alone as well. Without anyone knowing. But it didn't matter. She's ready to see her mother and brother again. She closed her eyes, giving in to the arms of death.

Then footsteps. They were getting closer. She felt a pair of arms carry her. She no longer felt cold, despite the cold wind gently hitting her face. She slightly open her eyes to meet blue orbs staring down at her with guilt and sorrow.

Such sad eyes her saviour had...

"I'm sorry I was too late."

° ° °

Your eyes flutter open, and quickly sat up. Suddenly, a sharp pain surged from your abdomen's side. You hiss in pain. A wound? Why would you have a wound? You scanned the unfamiliar room. Where are you?

Who are you?

Why don't you remember anything?

You thought hard. No, you remember who you are. Well, you remember your name at least. It was [L/N] [Y/N]. But that's about it.

No...and a pair of sad eyes. Ocean eyes that carried waves and tides of sorrow and guilt.

That's some useless info to remember.

Were you kidnapped? Is that why you have a wound? Is your father rich and a bunch of bad people kidnapped you to blackmail him?

"I see you're awake."

"AH!" You grab the blanket and attempt to hide yourself, only to discontinue and hold your wound, jeering in pain.

The man walks over to you. You noticed that he was wearing...what was that?

"You're wearing a demon slayer unifrom...did you save me from a demon?" you ask him.

He looked away and nodded.

"I see..." You mumble. "Well, I don't remember what happened, but thank you." you bow.

He turn his head back to you in such a fast motion, you thought his head would snap off. "You...you don't remember anything?" he asks. You nod. "Not even your...family?" You nod again. Wherever they are though, you hope that they're okay.

For a moment, Giyu wanted to switch places with you. He wants to forget his pain as well. He wants to remember nothing from his past, as well as why was he wearing this haori in the first place.

But then he reminded himself that losing all your memories was not a miracle. It was a bad thing to happen to a person. But then again, it's one of the reasons why he wants to switch places with you.

It was a cruel thing that can happen to anyone, and he thinks he deserves it.

The man was looking down. You saw his eyes. Deep, and empty. You wonder whose sad and guilty eyes were they in your memory. "May I know your name?"

He looks back at you, as if snapping him from his train of thought. "There is no need to know my name. Once you're fully recovered, you are to leave this place."

His already empty eyes just turned into an abyss of nothingness that came with his deadpan expression. Yet you smiled. "Then let me call my saviour by his name until then."

He thinks for a moment. "Giyu. Tomioka Giyu."

Your smile becomes warm, making the raventte unaware that something awoke inside of him. "Nice to meet you, Giyu-san. I'm [L/N] [Y/N]."

° ° °

You were alone in the residence of Giyu. He said that he is needed somewhere, but never told you when he'll be back or where did he go. You just assumed he was on a mission. For the rest of the morning, you forced yourself to remember at least one memory. It can be anything. As long as you know even just one bit of yourself.

You groan in frustration. Nothing - absolutely nothing - is coming to mind.

"All this thinking is useless!" you exclaim to yourself. "Maybe I should do something for Tomioka-san as thanks before he gets home. He did save my life, after all." You proceeded to stand--

Bad idea.

Sharp pain surged from your side. You gasp in pain. You weren't gonna give up now. As long as you still can, you will do it.

You try to stand, and each time, you fall to your knees or bottom. Little beads of sweat starts to form on your forehead as you sigh in exhaustion. You were determined. When you saw his eyes, a fire lit up inside you.

Why must a hero have such pitiful eyes?

"One last try, I...swear..." You wheezed. You used your right leg as a base and proceeded to stand once again, until you were standing on both legs. You smiled to yourself as you wiped your sweat with your sleeve. "Hopefully, I know how to cook."

° ° °

Giyu was standing in front of the shoji. He scanned the wooden bottle Koccho had given him.

"Let her drink this. Make sure she doesn't strain herself. It's only been three days. She's your responsibility now, Tomioka-san."

He wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off her face.

He enters the home, and immediately smells the aroma of newly cooked food. You weren't supposed to stand yet.

He rushes to the kitchen to see it clean, like no one has been using it.

And you cleaned his kitchen? How nosy.

He heads to the dining area and sees the dinner you have cooked for him on the kotatsu. But you weren't there.

He finds you in the spare room where you usually sleep, passed out. He sees the little blood stained on your clothes.

He takes a new set of bandages and rushes to your side. He puts your head on his lap and examined your wound. He proceeds to change the bandage as you stirred. Luckily, no much damage.

"Are you a fool? Why would you force yourself to do these nonsense things?" He scolds you.

Your eyes flutter open. Deep blue eyes...full of worry and irritation. "Because you deserved it." you muster up a kind smile.

Giyu remains silent. No, he doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve your efforts. Why would you waste your energy on someone who failed to save your family? On someone who failed to protect the people he loves?

He realized that you have fallen asleep, snoring lightly. He carefully moves you on the futon. He can't help but think of how stupid you are to cook for him. He stands and walks back to the dining area. He stares at the udon that made.

"Not even well-presented." He huffs.

In the end, he eventually ate the dinner you have prepared for him.

° ° °

It's been three weeks. Giyu hasn't left his home since then. He doesn't visit your room. When he does, it's only to give you your medicine and food. You don't complain. He's actually good at cooking.

On your first week, you practiced walking. It was much less painful this time and you can stand without straining yourself. At first, you practiced on your own inside your room. Then Giyu caught you. You looked kind of helpless, leaning on the wall like that. You don't lean on walls, you lean on people.

He almost wished he was one of the people you can lean on.

"Can you walk now?" He quickly puts your food down next to your futon and rushes over to you, leaving you shocked at how fast he was. "Don't force yourself."

Giyu genuinely cares. Everytime he would visit, you would always smile and thank him. Sometimes, you would ask about his day and tell him that your memories aren't back yet when he doesn't even ask. Soon, he's become fond of your smile that he even stays for a while after visiting you. At first, you weren't used to it, but you too have become fond of his presence.

"No, I can handle it." you smile. Why do you keep smiling? He hesitantly offers his hand. Why is he doing this?

You stared at it at first, before realizing what he meant. You gladly took it and he leads the way outside.

You become temporarily blind until your eyes adjusts to the sunlight. As if your smile wasn't bright enough, it becomes radiant this time. You close your eyes to inhale the fresh breeze.

Giyu just stared. He was honestly glad that you don't remember anything yet. What would he do if you found out that he wasn't able to save your family? Truthfully, he was afraid. Afraid that your smile might turn into a rage towards him, and may never forgive him. It's like that smile found its way to the door to his heartm, and have unlocked one of many padlocks that are yet to open.

It's been like that for another week; holding and guiding you, helping you balance yourself, and staying under the sun just for a few minutes before heading back inside. The next week, you can walk without his support. It made you so happy that you jumped around and even danced a little.

It hurt, but not as much. You were starting to think that you were a bother to him, so you decided to show him that you're okay, even when you're not.

For the first time in years, Giyu smiled. Watching you be so happy was such a sight for him. What he would give to keep seeing you this happy...

You finally stopped, careful not to overdo it.

You turn to face him, gasping for air. He quickly turned away, regaining his expressionless features. "Wait, Giyu-san, were you smiling?" you ask with a cheeky grin.

"No, I wasn't." he says, monotone.

"You definitely were though!"

"Stop deluding yourself."

"Psh, whatever you say." you turn away with your hands behind your back. Your expression turned solemn. "I guess this means I have to leave now." Not that you were actually fully recovered, since it still hurts a bit when you jumped around. It just seemed like he was eager for you to leave on the first day.

To be honest, you didn't want to leave. You can't imagine spending a day without seeing him.

"You don't have anywhere to go, do you?" You didn't notice that he was already beside you. You stare at him and shake your head. He stays silent.

Does that mean you can stay?

Apparently, it does.

It's your third week, and you're watching Giyu train. You have made onigiri as a snack for him.

"Giyu-san!" you call him. He stops swinging his sword and walks over to you. He sits beside you on the engawa and you give him an onigiri. He accepts and takes a bite.

It was peaceful. You didn't mind being like this for the rest of the day. Truthfully, you've grown feelings for Giyu. He's cold at first, and still tries to be, but in the end he couldn't keep up the facade. He spends a lot of time with you now. Whenever he gets home from a mission, it's like the first thing he has to do is eat with you and tell you stories about his missions. Sure, he doesn't smile a lot, but that's what you found most endearing. Whenever he smiles, he hides it or just denies it. And it was so cute.

But something was holding him back. You can feel it. He's not free. And you have a hint what was one of the reasons why he's the cell keeper of his own cell.

"[Y/N]." he says once he was done eating. You turn to him. But he didn't say anything else. He was just staring at your face. Soon, you feel yourself getting flustered.

You turn away and fan yourself. "Don't just stare at me like that!"

"Sorry."

You wanted to kick him. What a straightforward apology! Is he that dense? You could have sworn your face was obviously red.

He was quiet again. You turn back to him, worried that--

He was still staring.

You swear, you're on the verge on punching his face.

Or maybe he wants to tell you something? But he can't actually say it? You hope that's the case. And you wish he wants to open up to you.

"Giyu-san." You start, trying not to blush under his gaze again. "Do you want to tell me something?"

For a split-second, his eyes flickered. He looks down at his lap. "Yes."

"What is it? You know you can trust me. And I can always lend an ear." He turns to you. You were smiling that smile again.

That smile makes him want to waver, even just for a minute. All these years, he's kept this pain to himself. He believed it will disappear eventually, but it never did. In fact, it just grew and grew until it swallowed him.

You make him vulnerable. You make him weak. In a good way.

"Giyu..." you wrap your hands around his and gave him the warmest of smiles. "Don't make yourself suffer any longer. You don't deserve such great pain..."

It was the last straw. He can feel tears streaming across his face. You move closer and hugged him, rubbing your hand on his back. He cried on your chest as he told you everything. His past. His sister. His best friend.

But he can't bring himself to tell you about your family. About how he was too late. He can't afford to lose you too. He can't, now that he's like this. He doesn't want to break away from your warm and gentle arms. He can't let go of his light.

You felt like he was holding something back, but you instantly knew what it was.

"Giyu..." you make him look at you, but you don't let go of his hand. The sight was painful to look at; his eyes were sore from crying, his face stained with tears...why must the good suffer? "Don't kick yourself too much just because you weren't able to save my family as well."

He widened his eyes. He wondered why you weren't shouting at him. He wondered why you weren't hitting him. He wondered why he wasn't on his knees, begging for your forgiveness.

"I remembered everything last night. I don't regret being alive and well, because you saved me. I don't regret being here with you. So please, don't feel guilty because I'm happy here with you. And I'm sure my family is happy as well because I am."

His sobs turned into sniffles, then turnd into silence. You were staring into each other's eyes. He slowly moves his hand to caress your face. You were glad to see light in those once empty blue eyes. And you were that light.

"[Y/N]..." he moves closer to you until your noses grazed each other. "Don't leave. Ever. I can't imagine a day without you."

You finally land a kiss on his lips, slightly startling him. "Why would I leave the only place that makes me happy?"

He kisses you this time, and you gladly kiss back. Tender and warm, it was clear to you, and as well as him, that he's grown to love you.

And he was sure, that he'll give his last breath just to protect you.

You sat on the engawa, in each other's arms and happy. A happiness that you found in each other.

A happiness that would be permanent.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer giyu tomioka x reader #kimetsu no yaiba giyu tomioka x reader #kny giyu tomioka x reader #giyu tomioka x reader #giyu tomioka #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #giyuu tomioka #tomioka giyuu #tomioka giyu #demon slayer giyuu tomioka x reader #kny giyuu tomioka x reader #kimestu no yaiba giyuu tomioka x reader

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #406

“turned on all the lights, the tv, and the radio  /  still, i can’t escape the ghost of you”

Have you ever had an ulcer? No. Do you have any rare medical conditions? I believe AvPD is considered to be a rare mental disorder. Do you have to carry an epi pen? No. What color is your mailbox? I think it's black. I don't pay attention. Would you ever want a job working with animals? I'd love to. The thing is, without a degree in something, my duties working with animals would almost certainly involve cleaning up after them, which I am WAY too squeamish with fecal matter and vomit to do. It's extremely embarrassing, but I've never even been able to clean up after my own pets if they ever had an accident or got sick. I obviously couldn't do it with random animals. Did you have a good high school experience? It's... so odd, retrospecting on high school. In some ways, it was the best time of my life because of my memories with my friends and especially Jason, but at the time, I absolutely loathed it and was horribly depressed. But at least I saw a future for myself. I took better care of myself, all that stuff... That Brittany would be fucking mortified to get a glimpse at who she becomes. Have you ever watched any Monty Python movies? Which one is your favourite? I know I've seen some of at least one. Would you ever get a "below the belt" piercing? Nah. If a couple is married, do you think there should be any legal punishment if one person cheats? No...? Like don't get me wrong at all, I am firmly against cheating under any circumstance, but for there to be legal retribution seems extreme. What is the greatest source of anxiety for you? My future. Are there any hallucinogenic drugs you’d like to try? Nah man. What made you choose your current job? I'm unemployed. Do you feel uncomfortable on the dance floor? Or are you confident with you dancing abilities? Oh hunny, you won't see me on the dance floor. Unless MAYBE if the Cha-Cha Slide comes on, or the Cupid Shuffle. That's as skilled as I get, haha. Is it exciting to you to imagine having an affair with a teacher? ... No??????????? It's fucking creepy. Adultery isn't exciting. Do you like your smile? No. I absolutely look high when I smile. What is something silly that you believed to be true when you were a child? That I could invoke the traits of any animal, which I just referred to as my "animal powers." Like for example, if I "called upon" a kangaroo, I could jump higher. I was a weird fucking kid. Have you ever been in a relationship with someone you completely connected with on a mental/emotional level, but did not find physically attractive in any way? Was physical intimacy a problem? How did it work out? I was never really physically attracted to Girt, but it was never a big deal to me. I cared way more about his personality and how much he cared about me. We were never really "intimate," per se, we just would give each other a simple peck. It didn't work out, but not at all because of physical things. He was just too much of a brother to me. What classic or cult movie have you never seen and have no desire to? Hm. I know there's some, but I'm blanking. Does The Human Centipede count here? Like everyone knows about it, so I would assume it does. I have ZERO desire to see a second of that repulsive movie. Have you ever taken a real liking to a band/singer you never ever....ever thought you'd enjoy? Maybe Melanie Martinez? Her voice is so cutesy, as are some of her songs, but I really enjoy how dark her lyrics can be. People who know me would probably be shocked to hear I thoroughly like her. After seeing the movie Avatar did you suddenly view our Earth as ugly and/or boring? If you have not seen the movie, do you think it’s worth your time? I've seen a little bit of it, but I never finished it because I was very tired and chose to go to sleep. I actually do want to see the full thing, though; it looks very good. How helpful are your parents to you? Would they help you to pay for your first apartment? College? Where does the line end? My parents are truly incredible with helping me the best they are capable of. They helped me pay for school, among other things, but I doubt they'd help with my first home, whenever that is. I wouldn't really want them to, either, because that's my responsibility for sure. Do you like playing video games? If so, what do you usually play? I love video games, and horror is absolutely my favorite genre. I also love fantasy games though with deep stories. I've never been the best at playing super long games, like Final Fantasy games, even if I'm seriously invested in the story, though. I burn out. Have you ever sewn a garment? No. Are there any plants in the room you’re in? No. I don't bother with plants. What’s your highest level of education? Some college. What’s the most important thing in any kind of relationship? Proper communication, probably. If you wear lipstick, what’s your favourite colour to wear? I only really put on lipstick to occasionally take a picture, and it's pretty much always black. Is your style feminine, masculine or somewhere in the middle? Somewhere in the middle, I guess? Are there a lot of dragonflies around your house? I've never seen one around this house, and I doubt I ever will because it's too urban. When we lived in the woods, however, I saw them a lot. Of all the Disney couples, which one would you say is your favorite? Kovu and Kiara came to my mind first. Do you think it is cute/funny or disgraceful when a child swears? It's shocking, more than anything. You don't expect it. I don't believe it should be encouraged, but only because children just don't know when swearing really isn't appropriate. If/when you have a baby, how do you think you would want to decorate its room? I don't want kids, but I'll entertain the question and assume this is before the child is born and develops interests. Whether it's a boy or a girl, I'd probably go with a cutesy animal theme. Would you more likely buy a shirt with a picture of Mickey/Minnie Mouse, a Winnie the Pooh character, Snoopy, Hello Kitty, or Tweety Bird on it? None, honestly. Perhaps like, a gothic Hello Kitty. Of all the states you have been to, which one did you have the best experiences? Putting aside the AWFUL heat and humidity, I probably had the best time in Florida. I loved all the palm trees, seeing so many lizards on my grandma's patio, and going to Disney World was a blast. I liked that swimming pools were always warm, too. Have you ever had a crush on someone “too young” for you? No. Do you regret losing your virginity to who you lost it to? No. I was madly in love with him, so no regrets on that. If your boyfriend ever hit you, would you dump him? HA, BYYYYEEEEEEEEE MOTHERFUCKER. ZERO hesitation. Did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize? He did, but I honestly don't know if he meant it. Is there anything you want to say to someone? It'll probably go unsaid for the rest of my life. If they were to televise a live execution, would you watch it? Yikes, hard pass. If you could be the president of the USA, would you be willing to do it? Noooo thank you. Did you wake up in the middle of the night? I always do. Does your animal sleep with you? My cat does. Venus obviously sleeps in her terrarium, but she is in my room. Last color you dyed your hair? Red. Will you keep your last name when you get married? Very unlikely. I don't like my last name. What are you looking forward to? Hearing back again from the woman whose wedding I shot literally two years ago. I thought she ghosted me, but she messaged me the other day about seeing the pictures again and going through them to actually buy some. I don't know why the hell it took her two years, but whatever, I guess? I spent two whole hours resizing the files and re-adding the preview watermark (I deleted the OneDrive folder for space forever ago, but I have the files still), so I hate to sound like an ass, but she better buy something. Between sweating my ass off on location when I shot the wedding, editing those 100+ pictures two years ago, and now re-doing the previews, I have invested so much goddamn time into them that yeah, I think I have the right to be pretty damn salty if I don't hear back from her again. If your significant other cut sex out of your relationship for any reason, what would you do? It'd be whatever. I mean sure, that sort of intimacy is a very special part of serious romantic relationships to me, but I can live without it pretty easily. What was the last thing you said out loud? "Thank you for dinner" to my mom. She brought home Hardee's. Who are your godparents? I don't believe I have any. Do you like Gushers? omggggg yes Can you touch​ your nose with your tongue?​​ No. Is there a particular sport you follow on a regular basis? Nope. Are you waiting for something to arrive in the mail? No. Think of the last film you watched. Who was your favourite character? Uhhhh what was it... The Shining, I think? I didn't really develop a favorite. Do you have a friend whose name starts with ‘L’? Describe him/her. Lisa. <3 She's one of my WoW friends. She'll talk your ear off, but I don't really mind. She is SO sweet and caring for other people and loves to cook. She recently had triplets, and seeing as she had a son only months before accidentally getting pregnant with the triplets, she's obviously been MEGA busy so we haven't talked much lately. When you’re being kissed do you like it when they hold your face? Yeah, but not too early on. Doing that has a promise of seriousness and passion in it to me, and it would probably weird me out if that happened too soon. Last thing that made you cry? My health. Would you ever consider getting a piercing in your septum? Nah. I don't think it would look good on me. Do you enjoy being outdoors? If it's cool outside and I have a place to sit when I want to, yeah. Do people tell you that you have an accent? Only sometimes. It's definitely not as bad as your average Southerner, though. Do you enjoy watching fireworks on the 4th of July? Ha, what nice timing. I think they're very pretty, but I believe I went over in a recent survey how I don't encourage their usage in consideration of veterans with PTSD as well as being conscious of animals and the absolute terror it can cause for them. What’re some unspeakable subjects for you? So my sister is a children's social worker, and she shares a LOT of stories with Mom (and me, if I'm present) that I can't listen to. The ones that involve pedophilia and/or rape, especially from the child's very own parent(s), I just cannot listen to. Period. It's so fucking repulsive and just unimaginable to me how even a monster of a human can commit something THAT goddamn vile. What’s your opinion of root beer? I'm not a big fan. I mean I can tolerate drinking some of it, but I don't really *enjoy* it. Have you ever seen The Breakfast Club, and what’s your opinion of it? I have, and I didn't get the appeal at all. Did you have a Furby when you were younger? Oh god, I did. Those things are so creepy. If you had a baby boy, what would you name him? Damien, most likely.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''the ordinary world'' by the hit house

[freddiesaysalright]

Soft in Love Part 1

A Gwilym Lee x Student!Reader Fic

Summary: Y/N is an acting student in her last semester of college. When a professor unexpectedly can’t make it for the senior capstone class, a very famous (and handsome) substitute is called in. When they connect, they face a few challenges. 

Word Count: 2.6k

Tag List:  @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @benders-diamond-earring​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Well, you all voted, and here it is! The promised fic! I hope you all enjoy.

Warning(s): None. Just some eye contact and the beginnings of pining!

Part 1 here we go!!!

Gazing out at the auditorium, you swung your legs back and forth as they dangled over the edge of the stage. Your classmates chatted among each other, but you were content in your own thoughts. You preferred not to speculate on why Professor Bennett was so late. Since she was thirty-seven weeks pregnant, it could be anything.

“D’you want to run lines with me, Y/N?” came the voice of Sloan. “Might as well be productive while we wait.”

You turned your head and smiled at your best friend. “Yeah, sure.”

Pulling your knees up, you got to your feet, grabbing your script off the stage. You headed downstage with Sloan. You flipped to a scene you had together, of which there were plenty. You were playing sisters Esther and Rose Smith in Meet Me in St. Louis. You decided to pick the scene before the party in the Smith’s home. You started.

“I’m going to let John Truitt kiss me tonight,” you began.

“Esther Smith!” she gasped.

You shrugged. “Well, if we’re going to get married, I may as well start it.”

Sloan shook her head. “Nice girls don’t let men kiss them until after they’re engaged. Men don’t want the bloom rubbed off.”

“Personally, I think I have too much bloom,” you read. “Maybe that’s the trouble with me…”

Sloan opened her mouth to read the next line, but at that moment, the door burst open and two men walked in. One, you recognized from the department - Dr. Hugh Curtis. An elderly man that loved his job far too much to retire. He was also helping out your class by playing Grandpa in the show. The other man, much younger than Dr. Curtis, but older than you and your classmates, you didn’t recognize. He was handsome with angular features, rich brown hair, and startling blue eyes. He was tall as well. His eyes found yours and you inexplicably blushed.

“Holy shit,” Sloan said under her breath. “That’s Gwilym Lee.”

You pulled your eyes away from his blue depths and looked at your friend.

“Who?” you whispered.

She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Y/N? Gwilym Lee, the actor. A famous one.”

“I’ve never seen him in anything,” you returned with a shrug.

“He was in Bohemian Rhapsody just last year,” she remarked.

“I never saw that,” you reminded her.

When the men reached the class, you and Sloan stopped your whispering debate and focused on them. Your eyes lingered on Gwilym, whose striking face made you feel so incredibly...something. You weren’t sure what. Attraction? That seemed too obvious. Desire? That wasn’t really like you. Attachment? You hardly knew him.

“Good morning, everyone,” said Dr. Curtis. “I’m pleased to announce that Professor Bennett went into labor last night, and delivered a healthy baby boy.”

Andrew, your other best friend and co-star in the show, whooped loudly while the rest of the class politely applauded. You and Sloan exchanged excited smiles.

“Yes, yes,” Dr. Curtis went on, quieting everyone down. “Mother and baby are perfectly well and are expected to go home from the hospital tomorrow. Unfortunately, since she is now on maternity leave, she’s unable to teach this class and direct your show. To replace her, I called in a dear friend and former student of mine, Mr. Gwilym Lee.”

Everyone clapped again as Gwilym smiled bashfully and looked around at the class. When his eyes met yours again, you nearly stopped breathing. His face seemed to freeze as well, but he quickly shook his head and cleared his throat. Then he looked at the other students.

“Hello, everyone,” he said with a friendly wave. “I’m very excited to be with your class. Luckily, you’re only a week into the semester, so I hope I don’t have too much catching up to do.”

“We’re lucky to have you,” Edith, your older classmate, spoke up. She was around thirty, and was going to college later since she had children so early in life. “If you need any help, catching up, you can always ask me.”

Gwilym smiled kindly and nodded at her.

Sloan leaned over your shoulder and whispered in your ear, “Desperate, much?”

You bit back a laugh. You didn’t enjoy making fun of Edith, but she did have such a superiority complex about being the oldest in the class. She was also a bit more experienced, acting in small productions outside the city. But she was awfully confident for someone who had never actually starred in anything. You could almost hear how everyone else rolled their eyes.

“Thank you, Edith,” said Dr. Curtis. “Now, this class is only seventy-five minutes, we’ve got to begin rehearsal.”

Gwilym looked over at you and your friend, willing you to catch his eye again. You didn’t. He sighed and wondered why that disappointed him so much. That first moment of eye contact had him reeling. You were captivating and beautiful. And he didn’t even know your name.

The woman named Edith tapped him on the shoulder, pulling him out of his reverie.

“I’m Edith,” she said, sticking out her hand.

“I gathered,” he returned, shaking it.

She giggled.

“It’s nice to meet you, Edith,” he said. “Gwilym.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” she replied, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Who are you playing in the show?” he asked, becoming slightly uncomfortable under her gaze.

“I’m Katie, the maid,” she told him, and he detected some bitterness there.

“That’s great,” he said. “I think I’m gonna just - well - introduce myself to everyone else.”

Dr. Curtis saved him further by grabbing his arm and insisting on the exact same thing. To Gwilym, it was like torture as he made his way from small group to small group, slowly approaching where you stood with two other students. You laughed and his heart skipped a beat. He hardly even heard the other students’ names or the parts they were playing. Finally, they made it to your group.

“This is Sloan, she’s playing Rose,” Dr. Curtis said. “That’s Andrew, and he’s playing John Truitt.”

Gwilym shook their hands. 

“Wonderful to meet you,” he said.

“And now, we’ve saved the best for last, the star of our show,” said Dr. Curtis with an excited clap. “Y/N Y/L/N, who is our Esther.”

You held out your hand with a dazzling smile, and Gwilym shook it. A shock went from your palm to his, something only the two of you could feel. The warmth of familiarity went through your veins.

“Nice to meet you,” you said nervously.

“You as well,” Gwilym returned.

“Y/N is a bit of a diamond in the rough,” Dr. Curtis said. “She’s normally so quiet, you wouldn’t expect her to be an actress. But you put her on a stage with lights and an audience and she shines like the star over Bethlehem!”

“Dr. Curtis!” you replied, a deep blush turning your cheeks pink.

“Well, it’s true,” he insisted. He looked at Gwilym. “Such talent. And at just twenty-two years old!”

Gwilym’s chest tightened. Twenty-two. That made him thirteen years older than you. He forced all thoughts of your beauty down, tucking them away forever. Besides, you were a student and he was your teacher, at least for this semester.

“She’s graduating in December,” Dr. Curtis went on. “We’ll be very sorry to lose her. But I’m sure we’ll see her soon enough on Broadway!”

Your eyes remained fixed on Gwilym’s face. His expression shifted when Dr. Curtis had mentioned your age, but you couldn’t put your finger on the emotion. You figured that was expected. You hardly knew how to phrase what you were feeling. 

“Who knows?” Gwilym said. “Maybe she’ll come to the West End.”

“If you steal this girl from New York City, we will never forgive you,” Dr. Curtis teased.

The two of them walked away together, Gwilym looking back at you just once more. You offered a soft smile before he turned away.

“Well,” said Sloan with a sigh. “I bet you’d let him kiss you before you were engaged.”

You elbowed her.

“Shut up!” you groaned. “He’s our teacher. That’s weird.”

“Not that weird,” Andrew pointed out. “There’s like, loads of porn out there about just that.”

“Ew!” you replied. “You just made it even weirder.”

He shrugged. “I’m just saying!”

“Well, don’t just say,” you said. “You guys are being ridiculous.”

You ignored the skeptical look they exchanged.

Finally, Sloan’s sister arrived with her daughters, Lily and June, who were playing Tootie and Agnes (the youngest Smith sisters) in the show, respectively. With them there, you could start from the beginning.

You were basically doing another read through. It was so early on, and this was Gwilym’s chance to see each of you read as your characters. Since Dr. Bennett’s husband was no longer able to play Mr. Neely the iceman, Gwilym filled in. A jolt of excitement went through you at seeing a real actor like him perform. Though you weren’t familiar with his work, he was still in exactly the career you wanted for yourself. You made mental notes of everything he did as he read. You quickly saw just how talented he really was.

As class drew to a close, Gwilym was giving everyone pointers. Edith thanked him excessively. You and Sloan met each other’s gaze and you both rolled your eyes. 

“Y/N,” Gwilym said as he came to you for his critique. “Excellent work today.”

You paused, waiting for him to give you something to improve on. When he didn’t you just lowered your head and thanked him, blushing again.

“Right, well, since we’ve only got five minutes left, let me just say, I’m very excited about this semester,” Gwilym said, looking around at all of the class. “I think this is going to be a wonderful show, and I feel incredibly…” his eyes found yours and he froze. “Lucky. I really look forward to seeing how the semester goes.”

The whole time, he had held your gaze. When he looked away, he dismissed the class. You quickly retrieved your things and hurried out of the auditorium. The feelings you got when he looked at you were terrifying, especially considering the positions you were in. You inwardly scolded yourself. There was no way a man like that would be interested in you. He was too handsome, too successful, and too...too much older than you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Andrew called as he and Sloan jogged to catch up with you outside. “Why are you sprinting out of here?”

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I just...I need to get to the library.”

“For what?” Sloan asked.

“For a secret rendezvous with Gwilym,” Andrew joked.

During class, Gwilym had asked that you not refer to him as “Professor” or “Mr. Lee.” He wanted everyone to use his first name. His justification for which was that you were all adults. This wasn’t a lecture hall, and he considered the show something collaborative between himself as the director and the class as cast and crew.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you snipped. “Edith was the one drooling over him.”

“Oh, God,” Sloan chuckled. “I hope we haven’t abandoned him to fend her off on his own.”

“Nah, Dr. Curtis is there,” Andrew replied. “He’ll swat her away if he has to.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Y/N?” Sloan asked. “You look rattled.”

“It’s just…” you trailed off. You spotted the perfect excuse emerging from the theater as well. “Daniel.”

Daniel, who played your brother in the show, was your ex. You performed together in a showcase last semester, and had fallen for each other while rehearsing “We Kiss in a Shadow” from The King and I. But over the summer, when he went home and you stayed at school, he cheated on you. When you found out, you ended things immediately. He didn’t protest.

“Oh,” Sloan said with understanding. “It sucks that he’s in the capstone class with us.”

“Don’t worry about that cheating asshole,” Andrew added. “You’ve got one last semester here, and you should just enjoy it.”

You smiled. “You’re right, I should.”

“Now come on,” he said. “Let’s get to the dining hall, I’m starving.”

You started to follow your friends. Then, Gwilym and Dr. Curtis came out of the auditorium. Gwilym’s eyes - as if drawn by some magnetic force - found yours once more. He grinned and waved. You wiggled your fingers back shyly. Your heart rate quickened and you took a deep breath to try and steady it. You watched Gwilym go until he disappeared around the corner.

“Y/N?” said Andrew. “You coming?”

You shook your head to clear it. 

“Yep!” you assured him, and hurried over, following your friends.

You didn’t see Gwilym shoot you one last look over his shoulder.

After lunch, you did go to the library. You needed to pick up a couple books for a paper you were writing on Shakespeare in another class. You loved classics, so you’d jumped on the opportunity to take a class entirely on the famous playwright. Sloan and Andrew had other classes, so you were on your own as you perused the shelves, scanning the spines of the volumes until at last you found the one you were looking for.

“Good choice,” said a voice from behind you, making you squeak and jump with fright.

You whipped around to come face to face with Gwilym. It was actually more like face to chest. He was well over a head taller than you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You didn’t,” you lied.

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“You just surprised me, that’s all,” you said. “Anyway, I’m glad you approve. I’m writing a paper and validation of sources is important.”

“That is important,” he agreed. 

“What are you doing in the library?” you asked.

“Browsing, really,” he said. “Since I’ve got so much time off, I’d like to read some more.”

“Time off?” you questioned. “You’re teaching a class.”

He shrugged. “I’m really acting as more of a director. Not that I’m complaining. But, I’ve always thought about teaching.”

You smiled. “I think you’ll be great. We’ll learn from you no matter what.”

He felt his cheeks warm. “Thank you.”

“You do have a sort of professor-y vibe,” you said. “I mean, your blazer has elbow patches on it.”

He laughed and you felt your heart race.

“It is sort of dorky isn’t it?” he joked.

You looked earnestly into his eyes.

“I didn’t say that.”

You looked at each other for another long moment. You felt certain that his eyes would be the death of you. That he would one day look a moment too long at you and your heart would explode out of your chest.

You cleared your throat.

“If you’re looking for something good to read,” you said, killing the moment. “Try that one.” You pointed to a book on the next shelf. “It’s about Shakespeare’s sonnets and how they reflect his view of women. Interesting stuff.”

He pulled it delicately down and looked it over. 

“I think I will,” he said.

“And when you’re done, you can tell me your thoughts,” you blurted out. “And we can talk about it…”

He smiled kindly down at you. “I’d like that very much.”

“Great!” you said, just a little too loudly. “Sorry. Um, that’s great. But I’ve got to get to my next class, so I’ll see you on Thursday?”

“Unless something drastic happens, you will,” he replied.

You grinned. “See you later...Gwilym.”

His name rolled from your tongue comfortably. With one last meaningful look, you disappeared from behind the shelf. He stood there, book in his hand, stricken by how much you already affected him.

“Y/N…” he said to himself. Then he smiled. He really was looking forward to this semester.

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee imagine #gwilym lee x you #BoRhap #BoRhap cast #borhap boys #borhap imagine #borhap boys imagine #borhap boys x reader #borhap cast imagine #borhap cast x reader #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #Queen #Brian May #brian may x reader #brian may imagine #brian may x you #soft in love series

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

The Nightblood Project

Clexa / Supercorp AU where Lexa is the genetically engineered product of one of Lex Luthor’s experiments

"Miss Griffin, I’m afraid you---”

Maybe I’m just a kid to you. I mean, I’m just some dumb teenager, and Jesus, you’re Lena freaking Luthor, but.... do you know what it’s like when you’ve spent your life seeing only in black and white? Not bad, not unhappy, just black and white, not knowing any different -- and then suddenly... suddenly someone extraordinary comes along and opens your eyes. And it’s like an explosion of color -- colors you never even knew existed -- and it’s intense and overwhelming. There’s so much of it and it hurts, but it’s -- it’s beautiful. God, it’s so fucking beautiful, every color takes your breath away, and you wouldn’t go back to black and white, even if you could..... That’s her. That’s Lexa. So yeah, I’ll keep coming back until you let me see her. Because that’s who she is for me.”

Yeah, I wrote and made this moodboard at 3am and I haven’t had any sleep. Also disclaimer, I know nothing about cloning, genetic manipulation or the American foster care system. And here we go:

In this AU, Lex Luthor made some experiments to make meta humans when he was in his early 20s (maybe around 24 or so, and his baby sister Lena was 10)

He was experimenting with cloning and genetic manipulation, and he was eventually successful, producing the first cloned human, a baby girl he named Lexa.

One of the things that he was also working on was encoding his newly developed anti-alien AI (A.L.I.E) into the human genome.

After Lexa was created, Lex wanted to perform further invasive experiments on her. 

However, one of his chief scientists, Becca Pramheda, whose misgivings about the study had been previously rejected, felt it was unethical to do that to an infant, and refused

Becca took Lexa and ran away to hide the baby from Lex. In my hc, he somehow caught up to her and killed her.

But before she died, she managed to leave Lexa in a hospital. She enters the foster care system and Lex doesn't find her.

When Lex is finally sent to prison for his crimes,  Lena inherits all of his work (this would be around 2 years before the show)

Lena finds classified redacted documents detailing the experiment, called the Nightblood Project (so named because Lexa’s blood came out black as a side effect of the genetic manipulation). The documents are incomplete because Becca took some of the info with her during their escape, but Lena discovers a picture of baby Lexa and becomes determined to find her.

Lena finds her across the country in National City after an exhaustive year long search. Lexa is 15 at this time, and currently living in a group home.

Lexa has spent most of her life moving from one foster home to another, but the home she’s in now is one of the most stable she’s had. It’s run by a giant of a man named Gustus Paunovic, who is as soft-hearted as he is tough.

There are seven other kids in the group home, and Lexa is the eldest. Anya, the big sister who was the eldest, aged out of the system a few years ago and left. Lexa looks after each and every single one of the younger kids. Protects them, makes sure that none of them get into trouble, holds the little ones after a nightmare.

Lena makes contact with her, and it’s hard at first, because Lexa is distrustful and not inclined to believe anything a Luthor says, especially since Lex Luthor’s arrest made national news.

Eventually, Lena manages to convince her, using a story that they’re related (which isn’t really a lie, considering Lexa shares Lex’s DNA, if genetically manipulated). 

But Lexa refuses to go with Lena to Metropolis and leave her family (”They’re my people. They need me.”).

The social worker, a sharp, no-nonsense woman who’d introduced herself as Indra Porter, looks at Lena with something close to sympathy in her eyes. “I am truly sorry, Miss Luthor. I know you mean well, I can see that, but I cannot, in good conscience, place one of my charges in the custody of --”

“Of a Luthor.” Lena finishes, with a well-concealed note of bitterness in her tone. The look Ms. Porter gives her says that she heard it anyway.

“Yes.” The other woman’s voice is firm, but not unkind. “You know -- better than I do, I’m sure -- the notoriety that has attached itself to your last name, especially with your brother’s recent trials, and I don’t believe that it would be in Lexa’s best interest to be attached to it at this point in her life. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“You’re right.” Lena nods, thinking of the past year living under the shadow of Lex’s trials, and her own childhood blighted by the Luthor name. “Lexa’s well-being should come first.”

(I might throw in Costia there too somewhere)

Anyway, Lena concedes, and goes back to Metropolis, but Lexa agrees to visit her there.

I kinda just really want to give both of them someone they can slowly open up to so they can begin to trust family again, cause they’ve both been screwed over by “family”

At some point, Lena tells Lexa the truth. Imagine angsty little baby Lexa when she finds out she's "not human " but a "science project" of Lex's. (TW: implied self-harm)

There’s never really been anything unusual about Lexa, and it’s easy to slip between the cracks when you’re a foster kid. She’s ordinary. Normal.

But she remembers that one time -- that one foster kid she’d been living with when she was 9 -- Quint, who loved to bully the younger kids. He’d been taunting Costia because of her wild curly hair -- curlier even than Lexa’s, and flying all over the place in a corkscrew cloud that Lexa loved -- and Lexa had shouted at him to leave her alone! Quint had pushed her to the ground and she’d skinned her knee. 

It had bled, and Costia had screamed because her blood looked black and she had sounded so scared, that Lexa had forgotten about her black blood and instead reared up and tackled Quint to the ground, walloping him across the nose with her hardbound copy of Les Misérables from the library, and it had been Quint who bled then, not her.

Now, Lexa wonders if she’ll bleed black just like she did then. The only thought that permeates the numb haze in her mind as the sharp edge of the knife blade glides across her skin is that there’s only one way to find out.

Lena helps her through the crisis that follows when she discovers the truth (cos it’s not like she can just put her in therapy, considering the nature of her secret, and it’s not like Lena’s favorite repressive coping mechanism of “little boxes” is gonna help). I just want Lena to give Lexa the acceptance and the reassurance that she would need to face who and what she is

It’s not okay, not really, because how could it be, when everything she knew about herself has been turned on its head? But life goes on. It has to. And Lexa has always been a survivor.

Lexa only shares the truth with Anya (maybe Gustus and Indra). Lena makes herself available to answer all of Lexa’s questions, but the one thing she refuses to do is to perform further tests and experiments on Lexa (”Becca died trying to stop Lex from experimenting on you. The least I can do is honor that. I won’t be like my brother.”)

Just to be clear, in my AU, Lena isn’t averse to human trials and experiments (see Adam), but Lexa is different. A) she’s only 16, she’s underage and B) In a short amount of time, Lexa has become family. More family than Lillian, or even Lex.

Eventually, Lexa becomes a staple at Luthor Corp whenever she’s in Metropolis. And it's not a big deal for her to come striding into Lena's office, still in her school clothes. Sometimes she'll just lounge around in Lena's office, earbuds in, doing her homework, while Lena works at her desk.

Sometimes, Lena will be walking around Luthor Corp and Lexa will be walking beside her, quietly observing and learning

Lexa has an aptitude for science, but it's the day to day management of the conglomerate she's more interested in (”You’re a leader, Lexa. One look at you, and anyone can tell. People want to follow you.”) 

Eventually, it’s Lexa who convinces Lena to move to National City. Not only because that’s where she lives, but also because she’s seen the bad blood between the people of Metropolis and the Luthor name 

(’’There’s nothing for you here, Lena. Take it from someone who knows. I always used to hate moving homes. I hated change, I just wanted to find a place where I could stay forever and never have to leave. But I learned that sometimes, when 'home’ has become a bad place, that change is a necessity, if you want to survive. You can’t survive here in Metropolis, Lena. Lex is like a knife at your back, and being in this place just twists it in even further.”)

So a year later, Lena moves to National City and rebrands the company to L-Corp.

Lexa’s around 17 at this time, and Lena puts her (and all her foster siblings) in a good school and tries to give her as many opportunities as she herself got as a Luthor (without the emotional abuse she got from Lillian).

It’s at Arkadia Prep that she meets Clarke.

In the beginning, she sees Clarke as this spoiled little rich girl, the popular “Princess”, and Clarke sees her as competition, because from the start, Lexa proves herself to be exceptional. She may not have had the background that the Arkadia kids have, but she’s a voracious reader and a quick study, and she has street smarts they don’t.

A few months into term, and Lexa is already climbing to the top of the academic ladder -- narrowly unseating Clarke’s position at the top of the class, much to the other girl’s annoyance. It marks the beginning of a fierce competition -- Lexa beats Clarke at debate, Clarke beats her marks in Biology, Lexa kicks her ass at PE, Clarke beats her out as the lead of the school play. 

It’s something almost... enjoyable, Lexa thinks. She’s used to working twice as hard as everyone else -- it makes her better, smarter, stronger, quicker -- and Clarke likes a challenge, she can tell.

And it turns out they work even better together. They find this out when they’re forced to work together in a debate against another school in a televised event. They have fun absolutely decimating their rivals, and wiping the smirks off of Cage Wallace and Diana Syndney’s smug faces.

They begin to talk more. Clarke tells Lexa about her dad, who died in a car crash two years before. Lexa tells Clarke things about herself in increments: first she talks about the kids in the group home, then about Gustus and Anya, then about Costia, then about Lena.

Of course, Lexa doesn’t tell Clarke everything. Some things can’t be spoken of, not even to this girl who is fast becoming her friend. She never mentions Lex. Or her black blood.

Clarke introduces Lexa to her friends: Wells, Raven, Octavia, Bellamy, Monty and Jasper. They like her immediately, especially since Lexa is one of the few people who can shut Clarke up.

Pretty soon, Clarke and Lexa are best friends. Raven and Octavia would be jealous about this if it weren’t completely obvious how much Clarke and Lexa are beginning to enjoy each other’s company. 

Around Lexa, Clarke is calmer, less loud and harsh, more centered. And around Clarke, Lexa is warmer, the edges of her mouth softer and more prone to smiling.

Lexa’s first move to officially welcome Lena to National City is to introduce her to Clarke. She’s heard that Lena was practically accosted by those reporters after the Venture incident, and invites her to coffee with them (as if it were a random outing and not something Lexa’s been nervous about for months). 

Lena explains that it’s fine, the reporters were polite and mild-mannered, and one of them was quite cute. Lena doesn’t say that it was Kara Danvers who caught her eye, and not the famous Clark Kent.

Lena just sits back and sips her coffee -- watching the Clarke and Lexa talk quietly together, shoulders brushing, exchanging soft smiles over their coffee cups -- and she thinks she’s never seen Lexa this loose, this happy.

At some point, during one of Kara’s increasingly regular visits to Lena, she finds Lexa sitting on Lena’s couch (on Kara’s spot, the blonde thinks before quickly shaking her head), reading a hefty chemistry book while listening to music, occasionally asking Lena for help with a particularly complicated problem.

She first introduces Lexa to Kara as the daughter of a friend, just as she introduces her to everyone else, but Kara notices that there are too many similarities between them for them not to be related.

Not so much in appearance, though they both have the trademark Luthor green eyes, but in personality (both introverted but highly capable leaders, the keen intellect, the kill you with an eyebrow raise vibe)

Lexa likes Kara, and though she doesn’t know her that well, she knows Lena well enough by now to know that Lena is smitten.

“She called you Lee.”

“What?” Lena asks absentmindedly, her eyes still on Kara as she walks out of her office. Lexa smirks.

“You hate being called Lee. You threatened to disown me if I ever called you Lee. But you let Kara call you Lee.” Lexa repeats the name several times just because she knows it will irk Lena. “You’re such a useless lesbian.”

Lena throws her a glare through narrowed eyes. “And you hate being called Lex. As a matter of fact, Anya told me the last person who called you Lex ended up with a black eye.”

“Your point being?”

“Last week I heard Clarke say ‘Bye, Lex’ over the phone before you hung up. I’m just saying, I’m not the only useless lesbian in this family.”

“Fair enough.” Lexa retreats behind her calculus textbook, but not before Lena sees the happy little smile that can’t help but stretch over the younger girl’s face -- whether it’s at the mention of Clarke, or the word “family”, Lena will never know.

But it doesn’t matter. She’s just glad it’s there.

Eventually Lena has to tell Supergirl the truth about Lexa (I’m still undecided whether or not Lena knows that Kara is Supergirl at this point), and it causes a rift between the two of them.

Yeah, instead of a Kryptonite rift, I made Lexa the cause of the rift between Kara and Lena. Because the moment she finds out about Lexa’s true nature, the dynamic between Kara and Lexa (which had previously been friendly enough, now becomes visibly strained).

Kara becomes suspicious of Lexa. In the back of her mind, she’s like yeah she seems like a great kid, and it seems preposterous that she could hurt anyone, at this point there doesn't seem to be anything unusual about Lexa aside from her black blood

But the little voice in the back of Kara’s head pipes up ‘who's to say Lex didn't implant something in her?’ He’d already genetically engineered her, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to suspect that it was for nefarious purposes.

Kara, as Supergirl, becomes frustrated because Lena won’t even consider the possibility of running tests on Lexa.

After one particular argument between the two of them, where Kara had suggested testing for Lexa, just to make sure that she doesn't have any genetic mutations (and she's not gonna Lex out all over the place), Lena is fuming and ranting about Supergirl. 

Lexa manages to persuade her to watch movies with her while eating ice cream in bed

Lexa broaches this topic carefully over spoonfuls of Lena’s favorite coffee ice cream. "You're a scientist, Lena. Aren't you curious?"

Lena scoffs, attacking the pint with a spoon, imagining that the ice cream is Supergirl’s eyes she’s trying to gouge out. Gone is the deadly calmness she’d displayed in front of the super during their argument. Now she’s all petty spite.

"Of course i'm curious, Lexa. But I won't  let my scientific curiosity overtake my love for you.” She huffs, still seething. “This is the exact reason why Becca took you away, why she died trying to keep you from Lex. You are a person, Lexa. Not some science project. You don't deserve to be studied like a lab rat."

Lexa goes quiet for a long time. When Lena looks at her again, she finds the younger girl staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes.

"You love me?"

And just like that, the spite is gone, and all Lena feels is a lump in her throat.

This might be the first time Lexa ever heard someone say that to her, and the first time Lena ever said that to anyone and truly meant it.

Her face softens and she reaches out to tug softly, affectionately, on a lock of Lexa’s hair. "Of course I love you, Lexa. You're family -- probably the only real family I've had.... I love you, okay?"

Lexa seems too overcome with emotion to meet her eye, and Lena can understand that. She feels quite overwhelmed as well, but it’s a warm, lovely feeling she keeps close to her heart, not one she wants to store in a box.

So she lets Lexa look away and fiddle with her ice cream spoon. But she can hear the happiness in Lexa’s whispered "Okay."

Lexa does eventually volunteer to get tested at the DEO herself, as a sort of compromise to keep the peace between Lena and Supergirl. Also so Lexa can find out more about herself. She’s still trying to process the truth, but she’s gotten to a point where she’s developed a curiosity about her nature.

It still causes a bit of a rift between Lena and Kara, and Lena only concedes to Lexa's decision if she and an L-Corp lawyer are present during the testing to protect Lexa. 

Anya also accompanies them. At this point, I’m considering bringing Anya into the DEO, I think she’d be a perfect fit as a (somewhat rogue) field agent there.

The rift between Kara and Lena grows. Part of Kara knows she was in the wrong for insisting on experimentation for Lexa, but there’s still a need to know if there’s a threat.

The DEO doesn’t find anything, except for a minor anomaly in one of Lexa’s chromosomes. But it doesn’t seem to have an effect on her, except that it resulted in Lexa’s black blood.

At some point afterward, however, Lex is released from prison, and he discovers that Lena has found Lexa. He sets up a “nice family reunion”, renders Lena unconscious and abducts Lexa.

There’s no fear in Lexa when she first meets Lex, and that seems to please him. He’s sitting in front of a large computer machine the purpose of which eludes Lexa. He tells her about the AI he and Becca Pramheda created, A.L.I.E., and how he implanted it into Lexa’s DNA upon creating her. Becca didn’t know that his purpose for the AI was to use it to rid the world of aliens, and when she found out about it, she had immediately protested it. By that stage, however, it was too late to stop the process, the embryo had been created and Lexa was formed.

By this time, Lena has regained consciousness, and Lexa sees her signaling to keep quiet as she attempts to sneak up behind Lex. Lexa stalls him and gets him to tell her the machine’s purpose -- which is to activate A.L.I.E. remotely. 

As Lex cuts Lexa’s palm and feeds her black blood into the scanner on the machine, Lena hits him over the head and renders him unconscious before he can complete the sequence.

Lena and Lexa escape, just as Supergirl and the DEO arrive to capture Lex again. The DEO take him into custody, but instead of being hysterical, Lex just smiles at his sister and his clone.

Life almost goes back to normal again, but then one day, Lex is observed muttering a phrase in his cell. Once, twice, three times, just to make sure.

“Blood must have blood.”

At the same time, miles away across the city, Lexa drops to the floor in the middle of chemistry class, her nose bleeding.

Clarke is right beside her in seconds, but Lexa regains consciousness almost immediately, and for a half a second, Clarke sees her eyes flash, enveloped almost entirely by black. Then she’s standing up, and leaving the classroom without a word.

Clarke tries to follow her, but the teacher keeps her from leaving. The teacher does try to follow her, and doesn’t return. After a few minutes the class goes to check and finds the teacher passed out on the floor. No one knows where Lexa has gone.

The DEO gets a call about an attack that’s happening on an alien support group happening downtown. It’s a panicked 911 call from a K’Hund, screaming for help and yelling “She’s killing everyone!”

When they get there, almost everyone is dead. No less than ten aliens are lifeless on the floor. The only one left alive is the K’Hund, who lives only long enough to describe their attacker

(I had half a mind to have put Lexa in ALIE’s red dress, but overkill)

Supergirl and Alex get enough of the description to realize who it was. They quickly call Lena and devise a plan to stop and contain Lexa.

They’re too late.

Alex disconnects the call with a heavy feeling in her gut, and turns back to Lena’s office where she sees Kara, in full Supergirl regalia, reach out to touch Lena’s folded arms tentatively, as if unsure how Lena would take it. The other woman is so tense, Alex worries she’ll snap once she gives her the news.

Her gut twists for Lena, who must be sick with worry and anguish and fear and guilt. For her sister, who would never say ‘I told you so’ but ached at being proven right. 

Hell, for Lexa. Because Alex knows Lexa and she knows with wholehearted certainty that Lexa would never do this of her own free will -- not the girl who smiled shyly in response to Eliza’s motherly attention as she drew her blood for testing, not the girl who sat across from Alex at Thanksgiving and teased Kara for being such a dork around Lena, not the girl who spoke about her little brothers and sisters at the group home with such affection and pride.

By now, Kara and Lena notice her appearance. Lena squares her shoulders, and Alex knows she’s preparing for the worst. “Tell me.”

“Thirty-two people this time. She attacked a gathering of Starhavenites downtown...”  Alex informs her, straightforward but with as much gentleness as she can muster. God, forty-two aliens slaughtered by a 17 year old girl. She wishes the same fate could be visited on Lex Luthor, smiling serenely in his cell. “There is some good news: no one recognized her.”  

It is good news in a way, because this needs to be contained as much as possible, not just because of the threat, but because Lexa needs to have something to come back to when this is all over, and she won’t have that if the world knows what she’s done. 

“But... that’s only because she didn’t leave any survivors this time.”

Eventually, they manage to stop Lexa at the source. Lena figures out how to disable to computer that feeds ALIE, but the only problem is, it deactivates the ALIE chromosome inside Lexa, and Lexa’s body shuts down (just go with it, I don’t know what I’m doing).

Lexa falls into a coma, and she’s brought to the DEO. They try to revive her, but to no avail. Lena initially wants to bring her to the L-Corp labs, so she can work on a cure, but Alex tries to gently explain to her that Lexa still needs to be contained. Forty-two people are dead, whether or not Lexa was controlled by ALIE while she was doing it.

Lena complies only very reluctantly, and all but moves into the DEO to try and find a cure for Lexa. Kara helps her as much as she can, using her investigative skills to find out more about Becca Pramheda, while Lena tries to find out how to permanently inactivate the ALIE chromosome.

She leaves Sam and Jess in charge of L-Corp, and only returns there when Jess calls to tell her that a group of young students from Arkadia Prep are outside her office, insisting on seeing Lexa. 

She listens to Jess rattle off names until a voice that Lena recognizes as Clarke’s interjects impatiently “We just want to know if Lexa’s okay. Please!”

Lena returns to her office to confront Lexa’s friends. She tells them that Lexa is safe, but is being treated for a rare medical condition but is unable to receive visitors.

Everyone is convinced and reassured, except for Clarke. She hangs back after everyone has left.

“I saw her blood when she passed out with a nose bleed. It was black. My Mom is a doctor, and she says that's impossible. She says it might be an infection, or a side effect of drugs. Is it.... Oh, God...”

Clarke’s lower lip trembles as a look of utter devastation crosses her face. Her voice is small and barely above a whisper as she asks Lena “Is she dying?”

Lena nearly chokes, and she has no words of comfort that she can offer the young girl. “No.... No, but she’s not doing well.”

Clarke sniffs, tears starting to stream down her face. “I knew it. I knew when I saw her blood was black, that it wasn’t good. Oh, God, she... she can’t die. You can’t let her die.”

“She’s stable for now. As for her blood, I can’t tell you about that. It’s... it’s not my secret to tell.”

Clarke looks up at her, relief plain in her eyes at the knowledge that Lexa wasn’t in immediate danger, and gives a shaky laugh. “I thought -- I thought maybe her blood was black because she’s an alien. My best friend’s an alien. And that didn’t even bother me, that she might not be human. I don’t give a fuck. I just -- I just want her back.”

Lena manages to convince Clarke to go home, but she goes back to L Corp every day after school to ask to see Lexa. Lena knows the DEO is no place for a teenager, so she keeps refusing, until one particular day, Clarke breaks down and asks Lena to give Lexa her debate team jacket (”I just want her to have a piece of me, so she knows that she’s not alone, that I’m thinking about her.”)

Lena acquiesces, and brings the jacket to Lexa. She lays it on the bed beside the unconscious girl. Lena leaves her side for half an hour to have lunch with Kara, one of the few things that give Lena any consolation at this point. When she returns, she finds that Lexa has turned on her side and pulled Clarke’s jacket over shoulders, curling herself inside it. She takes a picture and shows it to Clarke when the girl shows up again at her office the next day.

Eventually, Kara’s journalistic skills pay off and she gets a lead. Becca's father had been a doomsday prepper in his time, and kept an old secret bunker under their family home for years. Kara and Lena find the unredacted files that Becca stole from the experiment inside it.

They discover that Becca had created a second AI, the Flame, and had encoded it into Lexa’s ALIE chromosome to act as a kill switch to safely inactivate it permanently, but she had been killed before she could begin the process.

Lena sets about rebuilding the machine Lex used to activate ALIE. On the day they’re about to use it, she brings Clarke along with her to the DEO, silently daring anyone to stop them (no one does). 

Just before they go into Lexa’s room, Lena stops Clarke.

“You should tell her.”

“Tell her what?” Clarke asks, confused and impatient to go in and see Lexa.

“Tell her you’re in love with her.”

Clarke’s eyes are wide, but she doesn’t say anything. She just goes into the room and takes Lexa’s still hand. Lena takes the other arm and draws some of her black blood, feeding it into the machine. It starts whirring and Lena takes a deep breath before reciting the phrase she found in Becca’s notes

“Ascende Superius.”

On the bed, Lexa begins to stir. When Lexa’s eyes open, Clarke begins to cry, tangling their fingers together and pressing them to her lips.

Lena smiles and motions for Kara to follow her out of the room. Kara looks at her curiously. “You don’t wanna talk to her?”

Lena shakes her head as she looks at the two girls in the room, their foreheads touching, Clarke whispering something unintelligible in Lexa’s ear. “I think what Clarke has to say is more important.”

Kara nods, and she’s about to walk away, to tell Alex the good news, but Lena stops her with a hand on her wrist. “I have something to say as well.”

Kara waits patiently as Lena takes a deep breath, and watches curiously with cheeks tinted lightly pink when she steps closer. “I wanted to thank you, Supergirl.”

“For what?”

Lena exhales shakily. “For... For everything. For not saying ‘I told you so’ when it turned out that you were right. For staying all this time. For caring about Lexa. For not blaming her for all those deaths. For working so tirelessly with me to make sure we found a cure for her. For making sure I didn’t drown in guilt over what happened. For those daily lunches that were my saving grace. Just.... for everything.Thank you.”

Kara sees Lena lean closer, and before she can stop herself, she turns her head ever so slightly, so that Lena’s soft kiss to her cheek presses to her lips instead.

She closes her eyes and forgets to breathe.

And for one breathless second, Lena pulls away the barest inch, so that her own name whispers against her lips. “Kara...”

Kara’s eyes flutter open in shock. “You know?”

Lena nods, still not moving farther away from Kara when she would have thought that the truth would send Lena running away in anger. “I do.”

“Lena --” Kara’s voice breaks, and her hands come up to grasp Lena’s arms almost desperately, and miraculously, Lena clings back, just as tightly, with one hand, while the other comes up to touch Kara’s cheek. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how to--”

Lena shushes her with a finger to her lips. “Your actions always speak better than your words, Kara. After everything you’ve done for me, for Lexa....”

“For you.” Kara cradles Lena’s face in her hands, blue eyes earnestly seeking green. “Yes, it was for Lexa, but you have to know, it was all for you, Lena. All of it. Everything. For you.”

Lena silences her desperate words with a kiss, and Kara exhales into her mouth with relief. Their lips slide together sweetly, and Kara wants to cry, because it feels so much like coming home.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Alex’s exasperated voice rings out somewhere behind Kara. “I just left a scene like this in Lexa’s room. Jesus! Just so you know, Lexa is fine. So please, for the love of God, Lena, get your tongue out of my sister’s mouth, and take Lexa and her girlfriend home so you Luthors can stop gaying up the DEO.”

Lena laughs into Kara’s mouth, just as she pulls away, and Kara wants to chase after her lips to chase the delicious vibrations of that laugh again. “You do an excellent job of that all by yourself, even without our help, Agent Danvers.”

“Fuck you, Luthor.”

_________________

By SorrowsFlower

Oh, thank God. I finally managed to get this out of my head! It’s been stuck in there for so long. Hopefully, this is enough to exorcise it.

#supercorp #clexa #katie mcgrath #alycia debnam carey #eliza taylor #melissa benoist #lena luthor #lexa kom trikru #commander lexa #lexa woods #clarke griffin #supergirl #kara danvers #alex danvers #lex luthor #becca pramheda #supercorp au #clexa au #fanfic

[terapsina]

Mary’s is a Long (Island) Sad Tale

Summary: 

The phone rings for a few moments and then switches to voicemail - ‘This is Kate, you know the drill.’ - Mary ends the connection and tries again.

“C’mon. C’mon Kate, please pick up.” She whispers. One ring, two rings, three rings... voicemail. For half a heartbeat she wants to just keep calling like a crazy person until Kate answers but she forces herself to take a deep breath because that would be insane. She can leave a message, like a calm and reasonable person whose mother didn’t just admit to faking a missing kid’s death. “Kate, hey, I didn’t know, you have to believe that I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, please just... just call me back, okay?

/or/

The time between Mary's mother telling her the truth about her involvement in Beth being announced dead and Mary barging into Wayne Tower. Plus a little bit of the time after.

- ao3 -

As she flinches away from her mother’s touch, bile rising in her throat, the thought that makes her spinning mind come to a screeching halt is her words about Kate. Her mom said she didn’t want Mary to hear this from her stepdad or Kate.

Which means that Kate already knows. 

Her eyes skitter around the pier, avoiding the sight of her mother’s tearful face, sure that if she doesn’t she’ll throw up right there in broad daylight. She can’t be here, she has to get the hell away from this woman she’s loved all her life and thought she knew, away from the face that now feels like it belongs to a stranger. 

So she does, she stumbles past her mother and then she rushes off, hands tight around her middle, trying to contain the scream that hasn’t passed her lips but is echoing through her mind anyway.

For the next few minutes all she does is hurry to put as much distance between herself and her mother as she can get.

Her mother forged the evidence that made her stepdad stop searching for Beth, which means that right now Kate absolutely loathes Mary’s mom. And that’s fine, right this moment she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to forgive her mother either.

How could the woman who taught her the difference between right and wrong have done this? And... oh god. What if Kate thinks that Mary had already known?

Halting in place Mary grabs her purse to search for her phone, - her fingers shaking so badly she almost drops it before she can unlock the screen, - after a moment she gets to her contacts and scrolls down to her sister’s name to call her.

It rings for a few moments and then switches to voicemail - ‘This is Kate, you know the drill.’ - Mary ends the connection and tries again. 

“C’mon. C’mon Kate, please pick up.” She whispers. One ring, two rings, three rings... voicemail. For half a heartbeat she wants to just keep calling like a crazy person until Kate answers but she forces herself to take a deep breath because that would be insane. She can leave a message, like a calm and reasonable person whose mother didn’t just admit to faking a missing kid’s death. “Kate, hey, I didn’t know, you have to believe that I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, please just... just call me back, okay?”

Because that didn’t sound unhinged at all.

Mary looks around, glares at the group of people throwing strange looks at the crazy, crying girl and doesn’t know what to do. She can’t go back to the car, even if she gets there first it’s not like she wants to be driven home. She doesn’t want to be anywhere near her mother right now.

What she wants is to talk with her sister. 

Her eyes rove around the street, searching for inspiration and land on the five star hotel on the other side of the street. It’s as good as place as any to wait for Kate to call her back. And hotels have bars.

-

It’s half an hour and one Tequila Sunrise later that she tries to call Kate again.

“Hey, I know you probably don’t wan’t to talk with anyone right now but can you please call me back? Mom... my mother told me what she did. I’m so sorry, Kate.” Mary says, and after spending a few minutes hopefully waiting for Kate to call her back this time, she waves over the bartender for another glass.

Usually not getting a response from Kate wouldn’t feel like this big of a deal, she’s used to it. But today she can’t help analyzing what it means, because if Kate is about to disown her stepmother then a stepsister is such convenient collateral damage.

-

The phone finally rings maybe ten minutes after that but before the relief has had a chance to set in she sees her mother’s face flash across the screen. In the picture her mother is smiling, eyes crinkling at the corners that make her look kind and loving and-

Mary swipes left on the red button, chest tightening with simmering anger. She finishes off her second drink in two big gulps.

She doesn’t want to hear her mother’s justifications, or her apologies, as if it’s Mary that needs to hear them. What she wants is for it to be yesterday when she’d thought that the worst thing her mother had ever done was occasionally make Mary feel like the family embarrassment.

-

“I can’t believe she’d do that.” She mutters into the speaker, head down on the counter. “I mean how did she even justify that to herself? I could-”

“Hey there.” Interrupts an unwelcome voice from beside her. “What’s got a girl as pretty as you so down?”

“Get lost!” She snaps at the sleazy white guy as soon as she picks up her head from the shiny wooden surface of the bar, she puts him to be at least fifteen years older than her, not that it would have changed much even if he was her own age and cute. Right now she wants to be hit on almost as much as she wants to ever again be in the same room as her mother.

The guy hisses something quietly under his breath before he leaves, Mary misses it under the smooth sounds of the piano that’s running as the background noise for the hotel bar but she can make an educated guess as to its nature.

She rolls her eyes and as soon as the guy’s gone turns her focus back on her call, only to find it’s already disconnected again.

“Shit.” She says and reaches over to finish off her glass but stops mid-reach, throwing a suspicious look at it and then the seat beside her. She hadn’t been watching the glass, and she’s still sober enough to remember to be cautious.

She pushes the half empty glass back to the bartender and asks for a Mai Tai to replace it.

-

“If you’re avoiding me because you think I’ll take Mom’s side you don’t know me at all. What she did was horrible and I would never ever ever ever ever- ever is such a weird word have you noticed? What was I saying?” Mary says cutting short and hiccups, it seems to jump-start her short term memory, “I’d never ever take her side. I hate her.” 

It hurts to say, it hurts even to think it but it’s the only word that fits how it feels to think of the harm her mom’s done. To remember all those times when Kate would say that she knew that Beth wasn’t dead and Mary didn’t believe it, and her mom sat on the other side of the dinner table and said nothing for more than a decade.

She wipes her cheeks for what feels like the hundredth time in the past few hours, the movement making her head spin around her feet even though she’s sitting. It’s possible she might have drunk a bit too much.

Time to change her plan of attack, waiting for Kate to call her back is clearly not working. She needs a cab.

-

Kate’s apartment being a bust has brought her to Wayne Tower - Kate wasn’t home, not even mad would Kate have made Mary bang on her apartment door for ten minutes straight without letting her in.

So now she’s facing the world’s most stubborn security guard. Though Mary is going to get past him, because he might not know it but if there’s one thing that being raised by She Who Won’t Be Named has made her ready for, it’s elbowing her way into wherever she wants to go. And right now that’s to see Kate.

“I’m sorry Miss, I can’t let you in.” The man says rushing to catch up with her as she storms her way toward the private elevator.

“I’m here to see Kate.” She says and fends off his attempt to steer her away back toward the exit and pushes the elevator button.

“Miss Kane isn’t seeing anyone right now.”

“Well I’m not anyone and if she plans to avoid me just because Mom turned out to be the Evil Stepmother she’s got another thing coming.” She says and steps into the elevator as soon as the doors slide open, leaving the guard with the choice of either following her or physically carrying her out. He’s not going to try that second one yet though, Mary can tell. She pushes the uppermost button on the elevator, - it’s always the uppermost button, - and then she waits.

A minute later, as soon as the elevator door slides open again she rushes out, dragging along the guard who, in a last ditch effort to stop her, is now holding her by her elbow.

“Kate?! Kate!” She yells. “I need to talk to you, okay? I hate her too. Kate?”

-

It turning out that Kate’s been off somewhere with Alice the entire day that Mary tried desperately to get in touch with her, to make sure she wouldn’t be losing her sister in the upcoming parental divorce is so typical it’s almost funny, - if ending up curled up on the ratty couch of the clinic that’s hiding inside an abandoned building, under two musty blankets as she finishes off the last slice of pizza given to her by Kate’s associate-assistant-real-estate-person Luke, and fighting off a migraine - can be considered amusing instead of depressing.

She finishes the last bites, throws a look at the dark screen of the phone and after a moment of hesitation turns her back to it to lay down and maybe finally catch some sleep.

Who knows, maybe she’ll wake up in her own bed at home and this past day will just be a bad dream that never actually happened.

-

She doesn’t wake up in her own bed. She also doesn’t wake up alone. Her feet are laying across someone’s lap.

“I’m mad at you.” Mary whispers in the darkness at her visitor.

“I know.” Kate says back.”I talked to Luke.”

For a minute Mary doesn’t know what else to say so she lets the silence speak in her place. Eventually though the thing she’s been trying to get Kate to hear all day spills out. “I didn’t know what Mom had done. Not until this morning, I would have told you if I'd known.”

This time it’s Kate who doesn’t answer but she reaches over to squeeze her hand and Mary sighs in relief.

“What were you doing with Alice?” She asks, not sure if she wants to know but nothing else seems to come to her mind and the silence is turning oppressive.

“She brought me to show what happened to her after the crash.”

Mary freezes in place, her throat closing up. She’s known that story couldn’t possibly turn out to be good since Kate had said that Alice was Beth. But now whatever happened will always at least partially be her mother’s fault. Because her stepdad would have never stopped looking without the evidence of those skull fragments, and maybe they would have found her.

Maybe she really could have grown up with two sisters.

“What...” She’s terrified to ask what Kate has learned but she also needs to know. “What did happen?”

“Mary.” Kate says in a pained voice and falls silent, like the words don’t want to come, or maybe like she’s trying to protect her from them.

“Just say it.” Mary says, harsh.

“She was found by serial killer. Apparently, he wanted a playmate for his son.”

In a second Mary is off the couch and rushing for the door leading to the only working bathroom in the entire building. She gets there just in time to throw up those slices of pizza and numerous cocktails. By the time Kate follows her into the bathroom and belatedly turns on the light she’s still dry heaving over the toilet seat, tears running over her cheeks. It doesn’t help, she’s still sick to her stomach.

“I’m sorry, Kate.” Mary says and looks up to her.

Kate looks like the world has broken to pieces under her feet, like an earthquake has ruptured something vital and all the light has been leaked out of her. The closest Mary’s ever seen Kate looking to this was five years ago when Sophie broke Kate’s heart. But even then she didn’t look as hopeless as she does right now, back then she had that anger that managed to carry her out of the city. Now even that seems absent.

It’s enough to make Mary bring herself together. She gets up, quickly washes out her mouth and then steers Kate back to the room they came from.

Once they’re back to sitting though, this time with one of the blankets around Kate’s shoulders, Mary’s at a loss again.

What can she possibly say to make Kate feel better? She doesn’t even know how to make herself feel better.

The silence between them grows again.

Eventually it’s Kate herself who breaks it.

“You don’t have to kill anyone to get me to talk to you, you know.” Kate says, the sound tired but with just enough of a hint of real humor to make Mary think Kate will be okay. Eventually.

Then her words register and Mary’s eyes narrow. “How much exactly did Luke tell you about my visit to the Wayne Tower?”

“That was about it. He told me you’d tried to find me, found out I was with Alice and then said that when you left. He was quite insistent I should talk to you though. Why?”  Mary sees Kate side-eyeing her thoughtfully with a twist to her lips and a raised eyebrow.

Mary doesn’t blink. She knows that look on Kate too, it’s a curious look. It’s a look that means Mary needs to go back to Luke the first thing tomorrow morning and either swear or threaten him into keeping his silence.

First though she needs to distract Kate and she’s got the perfect thing too. She’s been thinking about it for a bit now, though she’s pretty sure she wouldn’t have gotten up the courage to actually mention it without the added incentive of making sure Kate never hears about the things Mary had said today while upset.

“Hey, Kate?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I go live at your place for a bit? I don’t think I can stay in the same building as Mom right now and I... I don’t actually have anywhere else to go.” The words rush out of her so fast she’s not sure how she’d kept them in until now.

Mary looks up, uncertain, and finds Kate looking somewhere over Mary’s shoulder but after a moment she focuses on her and nods.

“Okay.” Kate says. “You can stay as long as you need to.”

And that seems to be all that Mary needed to be pushed over the edge because she immediately bursts into tears. Except this time she finds Kate bringing her into her arms, starting to rock her in place as she runs soothing circles over her back.

“I’m sorry.” Mary says and then repeats it, again and again, like she’ can’t stop. She’s so sorry. She’s sorry her mom did this, she’s sorry about what happened to Beth, she’s sorry she can’t be the sister Kate actually wants.

“It’s alright, Mary. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.”

#mary hamilton #kate kane #batwoman #batwoman fic #hamilton kane sisters #fanfic

[mydarlinclementine]

u n s e e i n g    e y e s    f o l l o w    a p p r o a c h i n g    f o o t s t e p s    . . .

     “  hope you’re not try’na be a sneak.          it’s unbecoming. ”  

                                                     a warning laced with poison.                                                       she stands by the window.                                                      no cane. no fear.

     friend or foe, they’ve got      one thing       she’s after.

                                          “ got a light ? ”

( jodie comer, gorgon, she/her & cisfemale ) is that ( bad reputation ) by joan jett & the blackhearts ) playing? (clementine cornelia carmichael ) must be nearby! heard folks say the ( one hundred fifty ) year old ( ex-mercenary ) was at the thanksgiving fair, ( lightin’ a cigarette by the kiddie play pen ) when chaos ensued. during the glitch, ( she dropped her cane while jumped by some no-good, possessed werecreatures, ‘til a mystery someone swooped her off to safety ).

b a c k g r o u n d .

clementine cornelia carmichael was the second of two daughters born to the carmichael family in georgia... and the disappointment starts there. her parents had been vying for a son, but alas –– with one x chromosome too many, they had no choice but to amend their planned wills. their family fortune, derived from plantation money, would go to the first daughter to marry, and her husband.

the catch. clementine didn’t know about this policy. only her older sister ( wanted connection ) was aware. so when clementine married her first husband, jeb, at 16, her older sister began brainstorming ways to sabotage their marriage to get the inheritance back in her name. it began with petty things. flubbing house parties. planting rumors. attempting to seduce jeb. eventually, it became clear this love was strong and she wouldn’t break it alone.

and then her lucky break struck. jeb and clementine’s efforts to have a child grew more desperate in the third year of their marriage. by 19, clementine had two miscarriages and narrowly escaped with her life. little did she know, getting so close to death activated a dormant gene in her...

all carmichael women are gorgons. her older sister knew about the family lore but clementine had never bothered to listen to her mother’s old tales of men turned to stone. it was only folk tales, old wive’s tales designed to scare both daughters into staying prim, proper, and well-behaved.

imagine her shock when, while they were making love, jeb turned to stone. talk about yikes. clementine flipped. her older sister came to the rescue –– with a pick axe and a sledgehammer. the two women pulverized the stone and buried it in an urn in the back yard of the young couple’s yard. widowed, clementine was reduced to nothing. no joys in life presented to her. the kicker? gorgons can reverse their own stone-turnings. and her sister? the bitch bloody lied to get her hands back on the inheritance.

a year and a half later, gorgon hunters stormed the house and mistook clementine for her sister. they kidnapped her and planned to kill her, until the quick-witted lady pitched an offer they couldn’t pass up: she’d provide them with mercenary services in exchange for her life. all of a sudden, their hunting jobs got ten times easier.

clem before jeb’s death was gentle. docile. calm waters, soothing breezes, dog-eared pages come morning. now? she whipped at the world with a vengeance. why deny what she was? why fight her essence?

clem later turned her captors to stone and privatized her mercenary jobs. her body count rose and rose, with no evidence left over for incrimination. but... by the late 1960′s, she grew tired of running. tired of hunting. with fresh dust on her hands, she finished her last kill, collected her hefty bill, and used the money to relocate to tiny letum falls, oklahoma.

there, she began to help out at the garden emporium, adding to its statue collection from pure boredom. she’d go to the bars, sleep around, repeat.

in the 70′s, she met manny otero, and the two have danced around one another ever since –– fuck buddies. she’ll never admit she actually might have feelings for the man.

in september, descendants of the hunters clem worked with and killed arrived in letum falls, searching for a blonde gorgon –– they found what they were lookin’ for, but not exactly who. again, mistaken for her sister, clem was attacked and left for dead in an abandoned house by the woods. dumb asses. didn’t know a gorgon can’t die unless you behead her.

clem awoke from the incident bloodied and blind. she can make out light and some loose peripheral shadows, but the blows to her head damaged her optical nerves enough to render her legally blind. she begrudgingly carries a cane when absolutely necessary, but she’ll more often than not defy using it by just... struggling her way through things. it’s messy. inelegant. but she’d rather stumble and trip than admit she needs assistance.

unlike other people, who might view tragedy as a way to make amends and realign with the world, clem’s attack just fueled her fire. she’s agitated. bristly. ready to snap at anyone who gets too close. it’s a miracle she hasn’t done a number on manny yet, or xander. ( she’s got a bit of a soft spot for the guy. )

t h e     f a i r .

she went ‘cause everyone expected her not to. idiots. of course she was going to prove assholes wrong. of course she was going to light up a few cigs near the kiddie play pen. who do you think she is ?  a changed woman ?

like clockwork, the first screams rang out when clem finally heard her lighter catch. so she took her time. lit the cigarette, took a looooooong drag. then came the footsteps. the snarls. the corner of her lips turned up in the teeniest of smirks.

she smelled it before she felt it. the blood. but just as soon as the pain blossomed ‘round her right forearm and shoulder, she was being pulled in the opposite direction. practically carried.

yeah. someone saved her ass. and she’s pissed about it.

c u r r e n t l y .

spends her time drinking, smoking, ‘n adding to brooks baker’s gray clouds over at the bakery. when she’s not there, you can find her sitting in her favorite diner booth sipping her umpteenth black coffee or tearin’ into a big fat slice of key lime pie.

aw. you scared ?  you think some big bad glitch is gonna come back to take you, too ? cry her a river, hun. this ain’t nothing.

the local bartenders already know to pour her a double whiskey, straight as soon as she walks in the door. clem’s got this presence about her –– she turns heads and makes ‘em want to turn away all in one go.

c u r r e n t     c o n n e c t i o n s .

fuck buddy / savior – manny otero.  she’s got him right where she wants him... in bed. these two ooze libido and become a show almost anywhere they go. sometimes she’ll let him buy her a drink. other times, it’s just easier to cut to the chase. since becoming blind, things with manny haven’t changed much, and clem’s thankful for that. little does she know, he’s the asshole who saved her life at the fair.

unlikely ally – xander chapell.  these two share late night cigs after clem gets some and, xander, well... does not, due to a variety of freak and unfortunate incidents. often clem barging in pre-bang. they have a special trust between them. xander opened up to clem about losing bez the night after the glitch. and she opened up to him, a little, about her past. it’s uncanny. but their bond works.

w a n t e d     c o n n e c t i o n s .

enemies.  give me people who really rub clem the wrong way. it ain’t hard to do.

her older sister.  their relationship is dysfunctional. deceptive. manipulative. you’d think they were the heads of opposing armies, not borne from the same flesh and blood. surprise surprise, clem has since uncovered a gorgon’s ability to reverse their changes. needless to say, she’s wanting to seek some kind of comeuppance. the issue? her older sister has been the only person to succeed in forcing help on her after losing her sight. and killing her own caretaker? that’d look pretty gnarly, from the outside lookin’ in.

drinking crew.  they’re not close, but they share a dark sense of humor and a penchant for dullin’ the senses.

garden emporium customers.  i would love to have a connection whose relative / dog / etc. were turned to stone and showed up at the emporium the very same week they decided to snag some kind of lawn ornament to complement their new landscaping... let’s make it crunchy, and awkward, and terrible.

hookups / past flings.  she’s been here a while. been around the world for a while. so i reckon while her body count for kills is high, her body count for beddin’ gives it a run for its money.

mentor / mentee type of thing.  someone’s looking to learn from her. why ?  who knows. but she’ll offer ill-founded advice and bitter philosophies. doesn’t have a good reason not to.

#othqintro #intro. #death tw #blood tw #miscarriage tw #this sucks but yeet

[writingmyselfout]

Because I Could Not Stop for Death - Chapter Eight

Language: English

Rating: Teen+

Pairing: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter

Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Reptilia28′s Don’t Fear the Reaper Challenge, Manipulative Dumbledore, Black Hermione Granger, Slight Ron Weasley Bashing

Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Chapter 8: Reaching Out to a Heart In Doubt

Summary: Expectations are hard.

BY the time Harry reaches the Great Hall (having stopped once to get directions from a portrait only to find he’s been going in the wrong direction), he’s pretty sure he’s the last to arrive. His face grows warm as hundreds of eyes turn to look at him, and he quickly makes his way over to the Gryffindor table. Neville has saved him a seat between him and Hermione, and he mutters a thanks as he quickly sits. Once again he finds himself looking towards the Slytherin table, but Draco is seated with his back to the Gryffindor table this time, so he figures he’ll catch him in class that afternoon.

    “What did P-Professor McGonagall want?” Neville asks quietly. She doesn’t ask, but Hermione’s eyes flicker over at him as she eats, giving away her own curiosity. When he hesitates to say though, Neville quickly adds, “N-Not that you have to say, i-if you d-don’t want t-to.”

    It isn’t like the professor told him he couldn’t tell anyone, but he feels awkward discussing it in the Great Hall surrounded by the rest of Gryffindor. Neville’s question after all was heard by a few of the other first years around them, a few of them poorly disguising their interest, as Harry catches two of the first year girls whose names he can’t remember and Ron Weasley looking over. He’s enough of a curiosity as it is; he doesn’t want his parents’ fortune--now his fortune--and this unknown will as additional reasons for everyone to talk to him.

    Lowering his voice, he says, “I’ll tell you after lunch, when it’s just us.” Maybe, if he can catch him on the way out, he’ll tell Draco too.

    Unfortunately, Draco finishes before them and heads out with some other Slytherins. He doesn’t even look over, and Harry frowns watching him go. Could Draco be purposely avoiding him? He isn’t sure, but he doesn’t have time to think about it as Hermione nudges him that they should start heading to class. Considering some of the others aren’t done, he figures she and Neville are impatient to hear about his talk with their Head of House so he nods. As soon as they are away from the Great Hall and alone in the hall heading to Defense Against the Dark Arts, they turn on him.

    “So? What did the Professor want to talk about? Is it something about tomorrow’s class?” Hermione asks.

    Harry shakes his head. “No. Uh, actually…” He trails off as he looks around making sure no one else is around while he tries to think of how to explain. “Basically, as the Gryffindor Head of House, Professor McGonagall is like my guardian here. She was asking if I wanted her to get my parents’ will from Gringotts.”

    “Their will?” Hermione frowns, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve never heard their will?”

    “My aunt and uncle didn’t know about it,” he explains. He doesn’t want to elaborate, embarrassed at the thought of telling them how much they hate wizards or what living with them is like. Especially with how the professors reacted. Instead, he says, “Anyway, soon as she can get it, she said she’ll let me know.”

    “D-Do you think they l-left you a lot?” Neville asks.

    “Well.” Harry shifts uncomfortably. “Honestly? They left me a lot of money in Gringotts,” he admits. “Professor McGonagall said there used to be an estate, too, but she doesn’t know if that was sold. Other than that, I don’t know what else they could’ve left,” he admits.

    Other students start coming down the hall, ending any further discussion on the matter. Hermione suggests they head to class to avoid being late, and off they go.

    Defense Against the Dark Arts brings them an unexpected surprise. An error on their schedule means they’re unexpectedly sharing this class with the Slytherins. Harry, Hermione, and Neville reach the classroom in time to find the first years divided by House, and they’ve clearly missed something as Ron and Draco are standing glaring at each other, Ron’s face nearly as red as his hair and Draco glaring back. Before they can try to get an explanation, the classroom door opens and Professor Quirrell motions them to come inside. A Slytherin girl marches over to the professor, pointing to her schedule.

    “N-No mistake, Miss P-P-Parkinson. B-B-Both h-h-houses are sh-sh-sharing this c-c-class.”

    As the class is settling in, the professor comes over to Harry, mentioning that he missed the opportunity to greet him on his visit to Diagon and that he hopes Harry is settling into Hogwarts well. Someone among the Slytherins makes a snide remark about having to deal with their professor fawning over their latest celeb, and Harry blushes, embarrassed. He looks over in the direction from where the voice came from, and he finds himself looking at Draco who quickly looks away. He doesn’t think it was the blond, but it must have at least been one of the other Slytherin boys around him, and his supposed friend wasn’t saying anything about it. He had been planning on going over to talk to him, but now he instead goes to take a seat next to Neville.

    When class starts, Professor Quirrell stutters through his introductory lecture almost to the point of being incomprehensible. There are whispers around the class and giggling, which Hermione sitting in front of Harry attempts to quell as she shushes those closest, which only prompts some more whispers and laughter among the Slytherins. Eventually, they’re instructed to just read through the first chapter on their own, with instructions on the essay they’re to start if they finish it before class is done, which will be due for their next class. There’s grumbling among the Slytherins, who apparently have their next class the next day, and gloating from the Gryffindors nearby who overhear as the next DADA class for the Gryffindors isn’t until Thursday. In a still trembling, stuttering voice, Professor Quirrell attempts to call for order, which only results in the talking lessening and dropping back down to whispers, but not stopping altogether. It seems to be enough for him, though, as he goes to his desk.

    A few minutes into reading, Harry looks up and finds him staring; in fact, it happens a few times, the sense that he’s being watched, only for him to look up and find the professor looking in his direction. Sometimes from his desk, sometimes as he walks around the classroom. It becomes deeply unsettling and he spends the rest of class trying not to look over at the professor at all, occasionally glancing at the clock on the wall in the hopes that time will speed up. When class is over, he wastes no time getting out of the classroom, coming up just short of running out and waiting for Hermione and Neville in the hall.

    As both the Gryffindors and Slytherins both also have Magical Theory, there’s no getting away from those more interested in exchanging insults. It escalates enough that a passing Ravenclaw prefect scolds them, taking ten points from each House, and threatening to inform their Heads of House if they don’t cut it out. It leaves the atmosphere between the two groups tense and Harry, still unsure if he should try to approach Draco, decides it’d be too awkward to do it right now.

    The professor for Magical Theory turns out to be a tall, olive-skinned woman with broad shoulders and long dark hair tied in a braid. Her dark brown eyes sit under thick eyebrows, and her wide mouth sits under a straight, pointed nose. Behind her is a chalkboard, the name “Professor Pythagora” written across it in blue. If it weren’t for the faint lines on either side of her mouth, and the streak of white in her braid, she might have passed for a younger professor.

    “Find your seats now, please.” A slight accent Harry is unfamiliar with is just barely noticeable when she speaks. Once everyone is seated, she continues, “Now then, welcome to Magical Theory. I am Professor Pythagora.” She motions to the board behind her with her wand, causing the letters to shimmer. “I will warn you now: I will not tolerate disruption in this class. If having the freedom to choose your seats results in too much talking and misbehaving, I will give you assigned seats for the rest of the school year.

    “Magical theory is arguably the most important subject you will learn, bar none. In this class, you will learn the basic truths of magic, known as the Natural Laws of Magic.” She waves her wand again at the board, causing her name to disappear and be replaced with the words “Natural Law of Magic”. As she continues, bullet points appear underneath, and her words are transcribed accordingly. “These laws explain the do’s and don’ts of magic as we know them. They provide the limitations of magic as we understand them, and how that translates to every branch of magic you will be taught here at Hogwarts.”

    She looks over the students, pausing and smiling over at Hermione, who is taking notes down, before continuing, walking among them. “Muggle-born students will understand this best: Magical Theory is the wizarding world equivalent of science. In short, magical theory will give you a broader understanding of how the world works. Unlike many of your other subjects, it is an ever changing field, as our own understanding of the world is always growing. What is true today, may not be true tomorrow. This is a subject which encourages not only critical thinking, but that we challenge what we think we know of the world.

    “That being said, do not take that as an invitation to question what is taught in this class if what you are presenting is some foolish, ill-thought out nonsense that is clearly just an attempt to get out of doing homework or, worse, taking your exams. Should you wish to challenge any of my teachings, or the information in your book, I fully expect you to back that challenge up with adequate research.” She moves back to the front of the classroom, turning to face them all. “Otherwise, I will assign you double homework on the subject you attempted to challenge. Are we clear?”

    All at once, the class murmurs together that they understand, and she nods her head. “Good, now I will give you the next ten minutes to jot down the notes on the board. While you do that, I will pass out the class syllabus for the year. Most of the reading we will do together in class, so that I can explain some topics further, and to allow everyone the opportunity to ask questions regarding the material as it comes up. I encourage you to ask here, for you’ll find that if you don’t understand something, chances are one or more other people are also confused. Better to ask and get clarity than to not ask and get things wrong on the homeworks or exams. And anyone laughing at another student’s question will have points taken from their house.”

    Professor Pythagora proves to be a strict teacher. By the end of class, she has taken ten points from each House (the first five from Gryffindor because Ron forgot his book, then five from Slytherin for the snide comment Draco made about him likely being unable to afford it; then five more from Gryffindor for the snickers when it was Crabbe’s turn to read and he stumbled over a few words, while Slytherin lost five points for similarly laughing at Neville’s stuttering through his own portion). She advises that she’s gone easy on them, it being the first day, but that in the future, each disturbance will result in an additional five points per instance. Despite that, she assigns no homework, and simply reminds them to be on time and ready to start where they left off when she dismisses them.

    The next few days are more of the same, as they learn their way around the school and their professors introduce them to the subjects they’ll be learning. History of Magic, it turns out, actually is taught by a ghost, but the excitement over that is quickly quelled as it turns out that Professor Binns is hands down their most boring teacher yet. Magical Theory, on the other hand, is less boring than expected, as Professor Pythagora alternates between going through the reading herself, and having them read, in order to ensure they’re engaged in the matter. When she’s not having to scold anyone for misbehaving, she’s actually more prone to smiling and encouraging them to participate in the class discussion.

    Professor Flitwick, after falling off the stack of books he’d been standing on when calling roll their first class when he reached Harry’s name, makes them most excited for future Charms classes when he informs them that the first couple chapters of their book would review the importance of pronunciation and wand movements when doing charm work before moving into the actual charms. They would learn the history behind the charms, and then move on to learning to do the charms themselves. It promised to be one of the more hands-on classes, and they were all looking forward to it.

    With Astronomy cancelled the first week, as Professor Sinistra has yet to return from a research trip, the only class they have with Slytherin Tuesday through Thursday is Magical Theory. Harry makes only one attempt to talk to Draco in that time, when he comes out of the Great Hall after lunch Tuesday, but Draco pretends not to hear him as he goes to catch up with other Slytherins so Harry doesn’t try again.

    So much for trying to stay friends, he thinks. He recalls what Ron said, about many of Voldemort’s followers being from Slytherin along with Malfoy’s family, and wonders if that has something to do with this change in attitude. Regardless, it’s not like he can force a friendship.

~~~

NARCISSA Malfoy was raised to be a society wife; a scion of the Black family, responsible for maintaining the purity of her own family while continuing the bloodline of the Malfoy family. It was a responsibility she had taken seriously, having had the lesson drilled into her all her life, but even more so after her second eldest sister was disowned for running off to marry her school sweetheart, a mudblood Ravenclaw in her year, immediately after graduating in 1972. It was such a stark difference to the pride her eldest sister’s wedding the year prior had brought the family, and Narcissa, being the youngest, could not imagine being disowned by her family.

    So she considered herself fortunate that her interest in Lucius Malfoy had been reciprocated enough that, coupled with her family legacy, he proposed shortly after her sister’s disownment despite the scandal. If perhaps she had thought at Bella’s wedding that she would like to wait to settle down herself, Dromeda’s removal from the family tree had made her fear that to do anything but immediately settle down with the most eligible pureblood bachelor would result in the same. After all, the Malfoy family was one of the oldest, with their lineage in Britain dating back to the eleventh century, making it so few could rival their accumulated wealth and influence. It made it so fanatically pureblood families, such as the Blacks, were willing to overlook the fact that the Malfoy family tree was spotted with a few half-blood relations among its branches.

    She had loved Lucius enough that given the choice of marrying him when he proposed, and risking the censure of her family if she turned down a match that would be even greater than Bella’s to the Lestrange family, it had been no choice at all. She agreed to marry him once she was done with school, and the summer following her graduation, that had been that. Her family could not be prouder, and indeed, they had virtually sung her praises for all to hear. News of their wedding was splashed on the front page of the Daily Prophet for a week, accounting for every detail.

    Whatever she had thought to once do with herself once she was done with school was replaced with her new responsibilities as a wife. While most of her classmates went on to pursue careers, or just interests they couldn’t while in school, Narcissa began learning the Malfoy history she would be expected to impart to the future Malfoy heir, as well as the responsibilities of running the Malfoy household. Once the elder Mrs. Malfoy was satisfied she’d learned all there was to know, her in-laws retired to an ancestral home in France, leaving the newlyweds the main Malfoy estate in Wiltshire to themselves.

    While Lucius worked as a Death Eater first as a spy, and then in more active roles, Narcissa was tasked with maintaining the illusion of their neutrality and simultaneously meeting with other pureblood families to try to determine their loyalties to better assist Lucius in his role as informant. It gave her something to do as, year after year, their attempts at having a child failed. When news trickled down to her through others in her social circle that her estranged sister was with child, an unfamiliar feeling of jealousy overcame her and she was tempted to reach out, ask how her sister had managed what she had yet been unable to do. She never went through with it.

    When she finally became pregnant in the latter half of 1979, she practically confined herself to Malfoy Manor, wanting nothing to do with the escalating war or the stress of maintaining social connections. Maintaining her health and having the child she longed for meant more to her than anything else, no matter how much Bella nagged at her to do her part for the Dark Lord. Lucius, who to that point seemed to be as obsessed with furthering the Dark Lord’s cause as her sister, surprised her by agreeing she should stay safely in the manor.

    On the 5 June 1980, she gave birth to Draco Lucius Malfoy, and he became her world. She swore to herself as he fell asleep in her arms that first night that she would do anything , fight anyone , to protect the perfect little being in her arms who had cried incessantly until he’d been placed in his mother’s arms. When nearly a year and a half later, the Dark Lord fell, she’d urged Lucius to avoid suspicion however he could. She would not have her son grow up with his father locked away in Azkaban, the taint of that following him as he grew up and attended Hogwarts. If the Dark Lord had been doomed to failure, then they were lucky it had happened before their allegiance had been revealed.

    She was relieved, as he got older, at realizing that her son would not be expected to fight. By the end of the war, casualties were common on both sides, although heavier on the opposing side. Still, in the last few months, she had worried every time Lucius left that he would not come home. She couldn’t imagine letting Draco leave not knowing if he would come back to her. Better to put up with the existence of blood traitors and mudbloods than the possibility of losing her son.

    While many others in her social circles hired tutors and left their House Elves to watch over their children. Narcissa wouldn’t hear of it. The only time she wasn’t with him was when her presence at a social event, or a Ministry event with Lucius, was absolutely required. Even then, unless Lucius or his parents, visiting from France, were able to be with Draco while she was gone, she would excuse herself at the earliest opportunity. She personally took charge of most of Draco's in-home education, only hiring a tutor the year before he was due to begin Hogwarts to ensure she had covered everything he’d need to know before beginning.

    When Lucius declared his intention to send Draco to Durmstrang Institute instead of Hogwarts, he saw the notorious Black will in Narcissa for the first time. Where in all other matters, she had given her opinion but ultimately deferred to his judgement, when it came to where Draco would attend school, she put her foot down. She would not hear of him going anywhere but to Hogwarts. Not only had every member of her family from time immemorial attended Hogwarts, which by all accounts was the best school in Europe, she would not hear of him going so far away from them. The fight lasted days, to the point where she purposely changed her schedule so that she and Draco were virtually never home when Lucius was free to avoid him putting ideas in their son’s head about Durmstrang, until finally he conceded that Draco would in fact attend Hogwarts when the time came.

    In truth, if she could have kept him home to herself, Narcissa likely would have. She missed him terribly, all the more since he’d only written to them once so far on Sunday night to inform them he’d been Sorted into Slytherin (“As any respectable Malfoy would be,” Lucius said, though he beamed with pride). She’d asked him to write daily, had hoped he would, but wasn’t surprised when nothing came the first, second, or third morning. Still, she sent him a letter and a small box of treats daily before sitting down to breakfast, and kept an eye out for a response.

    Thursday, she was rewarded with his first response thus far, the Eurasian eagle-owl they’d gifted Draco for school delivering his letter to her directly. Narcissa takes it, petting the owl once before calling a House Elf to provide a treat for the bird so he’s ready to deliver her response once she’s written it.

5 September 1991

Dear Mother,

I apologize for not writing sooner. Thank you for the treats you’ve been sending; the cookies yesterday were especially good.

    Narcissa smiles. She’d decided to make those herself on a whim.

We already have a lot of homework, which has kept me busy, but I will try to be better about writing. You were right about how easy it is to get lost; Hogwarts is so much bigger than I imagined. It’s lucky the Slytherin common rooms and dorms are in the dungeon; I can’t imagine having to navigate all the moving staircases on the first week to try and find the other Houses’ dorms.

Speaking of other Houses, though, did I tell you Potter was sorted into Gryffindor? Before we were Sorted, I agreed we’d stay friends even if we went to different Houses.  The older Slytherins, however, said Slytherins and Gryffindors are rivals, and especially because so many of them are mudbloods and blood traitors. Potter has already made friends with some. I know you always say we Malfoys always keep our word, but Father said I must always act in a way that will reflect well on Slytherin. In this case, should I keep my word? Or would that be against all Slytherin stands for? Mother, I wish you were here; you always know what to do. I know

Father would say I must figure it out myself, but I don’t know what the right thing is. If you could advise me, I would appreciate it.

Your loving son,

Draco

    By the time she finishes the letter, Narcissa is frowning. She wishes she had known with whom her son had been exchanging letters with the last month; she might have managed to prevent their getting close, thus sparing her son the difficulty such a friendship would inevitably come with. Early on after the Dark Lord’s downfall, she and Lucius had agreed that while they would teach their son the importance of their pureblood status, they would keep the truth of their allegiance in the war a secret until he was older. Lucius had been too high up a Death Eater near the end for his identity to have remained secret for long. His current Ministry connections, and his position on the Board of Governors, required the continued belief that they had been neutral prior to Lucius being placed under the Imperius Curse.

    She had warned him when they began preparing him for Hogwarts that there would be those in his House who, in the safety of their common room, would be vocal about their family’s support of the Dark Lord. They were sending him off with the information they’d always told him, that their family had remained neutral, but he was never to tell anyone who among his Housemates had supported the Dark Lord. She hadn’t thought to tell him that among those open supporters, there would be a great amount of animosity towards the supposed “hero” of the wizarding world, and thus he would do well to not befriend the other boy. She never thought they’d meet outside the school.

    Now her son is asking for her help to navigate the situation, and knowing her son as she does, she knows that whatever her response, he will take it to heart. Much as Draco loves and respects his father, Narcissa is the one who has his confidence, the one who has been by his side, guiding him, all his life. He will want to make his father proud, but he will do as his mother says is right.

    Folding the letter carefully, she slips it into the pocket of her robe and stands, smoothing out the lines sitting down had begun to create before she leaves the library where she’d been going over her calendar when Vespid arrived. She glances briefly at the clock, then heads for Lucius’s office. She finds him exactly where she expected, sitting at his desk, facing the fireplace located behind it. Once a week, he and the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge meet, and sure enough, the Minister’s head is currently floating in the green flames. They’re wrapping up, exchanging pleasantries, so she comes over to stand near the desk, in clear view of the Minister.

    “Ah, Narcissa! Looking lovely, as always,” Minister Fudge compliments. She greets him with a small, bland smile, well versed in being polite without encouraging a lengthy conversation. “Well, I must go, Lucius. But I’ll be in touch. You have a good day.”

    “Yes, Cornelius, you as well.” He waits until the Minister is truly gone, and the flames in the fireplace have returned to their normal orange-yellow color to turn his chair back towards the desk. “Impeccable timing, dear. The man is incapable of taking a hint and noting when his presence is no longer warranted.”

    Narcissa gives him a genuine smile. “I thought that might be the case. Shall I call for some tea?” He nods his agreement and she calls for one of the House Elves before taking a seat across from her husband. Once a tray has been brought, she waves the Elf away before serving them each a cup. “There you are.”

    “Thank you.” He takes the cup and sips at it, eyes flicking briefly to look over at her before returning to some correspondences in front of him. He suspects there is something she wishes to discuss, but knows she will get around to it in her own time.

    Narcissa is in no rush, serving herself a cup and sipping at it as she decides exactly how she wishes to broach the subject before doing so. Once she is ready, she says quietly, “The Parkinsons will be completing the renovation of their garden soon; we’ve been invited to a dinner party in a few weeks. With the children all off to school now, they’re likely worried that outside of the holidays when they’re all home, we’ll otherwise do little socializing with them.  Shall I accept their invitation, or shall I tell them we’ve a prior engagement?”

    “The Parkinsons,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You may as well accept; they’ll just move the date if we say we aren’t available.”

    She nods her head knowingly. “Very well. You’ll be interested to know that Artemisia Zabini is apparently in the market for a London home.”

    “Done gallivanting abroad, is she?”

    “I doubt it. Her son started Hogwarts this year as well. It is probably easier to keep a residence domestically instead of having the boy travel abroad every break.”

    Lucius looks up at her thoughtfully. “Is he a Slytherin?” Narcissa lifts one delicate shoulder to indicate she isn’t sure, and he nods. “If he is, he’d be a good friend for Draco to have.” More accurately, it would be a good connection for them to cultivate, due to the boy’s infamous mother, whose beauty was renowned internationally, as was her influence, her multiple marriages, and her unknown wealth.

    Narcissa simply nods her head in agreement before segueing easily to the reason she’d come to see her husband. “Speaking of friends, did you know Draco had been speaking with Harry Potter? I meant to ask you after we dropped him off. I thought he’d been exchanging letters with Nott’s boy, or I’d have put a stop to it.”

    “I did not, but this could be good.”

    “You don’t think Draco’s being friends with the Boy Who Lived is bad?”

    Lucius presses his fingers together in front of chin, a grin spreading across his face. “On the contrary, this is an unexpected advantage. No one knows where Albus had him, but did you see the state of him? Draco becoming friends with Harry Potter allows us to take him under our wing, influence his allegiances before he becomes one of Albus’s little puppets, and quash those who still suspect me after all these years in one fell swoop. After all, would a former Death Eater loyal to the Dark Lord treat the one responsible like family ?

    “Draco has done well befriending the Boy Who Lived. Has he written to you about him?”

    “Only to say that he was Sorted into Gryffindor,” Narcissa tells him.

    Lucius rolls his eyes. “Of course he was. No matter. Encourage him to invite the boy over. Perhaps for the holidays.”

    “As you wish, Lucius. If anything, I will plan a holiday party and have Draco invite his friends, including the Potter boy. We can also have the Zabinis over then.”

    Lucius agreed to the idea, and they discussed other matters instead while in her mind, Narcissa was already planning the letter to Draco.

                                                                                             5 September 1991

Hello Darling,

Hogwarts will soon become so familiar to you that you will not recall a time when you could not navigate it as well as the manor. While I look forward to hearing from you often, your classwork should take precedence; do not apologize for taking care of your responsibilities first and foremost. While I am glad to hear that you wish to uphold the values of Slytherin, always remember one thing:

You are first and foremost a Malfoy, with the blood of the noble house of Black running through your veins. Even among the Sacred Twenty-Eight, few are your equal. I trust you to advance the interests of our family, and never allow others to make you question what you know to be right.

I am disappointed to hear, however, that your fellow Slytherins are distinctly lacking in the cunning and forethought members of our House are known for, and hope that you defer instead to what your father and I have taught you. Your Head of House, Professor Snape, can also guide you accordingly. You do yourself no favors by setting yourself up against the other Houses unilaterally, including the members of Gryffindor. That is not to say that you should go so far as to mingle with those inferior to you, but never forget that the families of the Sacred Twenty-Eight do not only reside in Slytherin, and that even among those who cannot claim our pureblood status are those who can prove useful to us Malfoys, or even just you personally in your ambitions at school.

Take your father’s connections for example. Many cannot claim the lineage we have, but they are nevertheless relations we cultivate. Until such time that they prove to no longer be useful to the Malfoy family, they will be important connections for us to maintain.

I hope my words have eased your concerns, and helped you understand the best course of action. I do not wish to tell you what to do, but to give you the tools and understanding so as to make your own decisions.

                                                                                      Write again soon, love.

                                                                                            Your Loving Mother

Story Notes:

Chapter title is from the Newsboys song “That’s How You Change the World”

Confession: The “error” in the schedule was me forgetting to make a note that Monday’s DADA class was also a shared class (‘cause that was the only way I could make the rest of the schedule work). Instead of going back to edit, figured I’d make the error canon instead.

Fun fact: Pythagora, I’m sure you can guess, is named for Pythagoras as he is credited with the modern definition of the word “theory”. Historians don’t agree on whether or not he even had children, much less whether or not he had a daughter, and what her name was if he did. Two possible names given were Myia or Damo (Theano is another, but I don’t like that one, lol), so our Magical Theory professor’s full name is Myia Damo Pythagora!

#Because I Could Not Stop for Death fic #BICNSFD #Harmony fanfic #HP fanfic #Harry Potter

[08-plaza]

Xenoblade Chronicles X: 2 Year Aniversary Short Story

After missing out on last year’s anniversary i decided i wanted to get in on it this year to show my love for such an awesome and interesting game, so as a summary i wrote a short story of the major things i think would have happened since humanity’s arrival on Mira and how so people might have changed during that time. Unfortunately i realized about halfway through that i didn’t know some of the cast’s characters well enough or just simply couldn’t think of a way to include them in the first place, so i apologize if this comes of as a little narcissistic since it ends up being heavily shippy in the end. If i missed your favorite character (i’m really sad i couldn’t fit Alexa in there she’s fantastic) i’m sorry and i wish i knew other people’s crosses better so i could have included them in this too. But i hope you enjoy reading it and it instills a sense of hope for humanity’s future on Mira and more love for this already awesome game.

“We are gathered here today celebrate the completion of New Los angeles’s agricultural district and the hard work put in by every division of BLADE that made this possible.” Secretary Nagi began his address to the men and women standing arrayed on the bridge in front of him, “First off are our team of engineers and the people under them, without whom we wouldn’t have gotten it built at all.”

Nagi paused for a moment as the crowd applauded, cheers and the spirit of comradery filling the air.

“Second are the BLADEs who secured the resources to build this, i know every division played some part from the curators to the interceptors and i thank all of you.” He continued, pausing for the applause once more.

“And finally are the men and women who have already agreed to operate the facility. While your jobs may not be glamourous they are still very important.” He concluded to enthusiastic cheers.

“And now a word from the Director General Chausson.” Nagi said, stepping back and letting Chausson take center stage.

“Eh, hem.” Chausson cleared his throat, “Thank you for your inspiring words Secretary Nagi. This is not the only thing we have cause to celebrate today either, as many of you may know today is the second anniversary of when the white whale first landed on mira.”

There was a poignant pause as everyone remembered the horrors and challenges they had faced during the first year humanity had been on Mira.

“I’d like to use this time to commemorate all the good people we lost during that time but also all the good allies we made as well,” Chausson said, gesturing to the dignitaries sent to the event, “The nopon, whose invaluable knowledge of the planet has saved us on many occasions.”

“Nopon info best info!” Tatsu interjected and was quickly shushed by lin.

“Mhm yes. Then the Manon, who showed us whole new avenues of technology we hadn’t dreamed were possible.” Chausson continued, doing his best to ignore the interruption.

“I mean we had thought of them just didn’t know how to make them work properly” lin said under her breath and this time it was Elma’s turn to shush her.

“The Orpheans helped us look at our own technology and improve it, pushing it past the limits we thought we would never break.” Chausson said, determined to fit all of New LA’s allies into his speech. “The Zaruboggan helped us remove the pollution that the war was causing in our city and steer us towards a cleaner future. The Prone taught us the value of strength and pride in one’s abilities just as the Wrothians showed us how to hone our skills in combat to their very peak and temper them with honor in battle.”

The crowd erupted in cheers for these vastly different peoples, all of whom had made a distinct mark on humanity during it’s trials on the planet Mira.

“Of course i cannot forget our more singular friends such as Rock who has contributed immensely to the construction of our city, Celica who became one of the first BLADEs of a different race and has managed to balance it with her own ideals.”

This was met with heavy applause as celica turned a bright shade of red while Rock joined in the applause, quickly causing it to die down from the sound.

“Then we have our oddity of L, who while he had no stake in our conflict has helped our cause, even being a part of the battle to retake the lifehold core. To all of you, you have my utter gratitude.” Chausson concluded, letting the applause last for a while before speaking again.

“This is also a perfect time to commemorate all the good souls we’ve lost since coming here, whether it was to indigenous creatures or the vile Ganglion and that's not even mentioning the destruction of earth.” Chausson said, his voice wavering slightly in an uncharacteristic show of emotion during a speech.

Many people in the audience bowed their heads, briefly remembering the sacrifices that had gotten them this far.

“And so i’d like to dedicate the construction of New LA’s Agricultural District to those we’ve lost, as a testament to humanity’s tenacity and ability to thrive on alien worlds with the odds pitted against us, so please, enjoy yourselves with the prepared festivities.” Chausson Finished, taking a short bow before walking through the crowd and heading back towards BLADE tower.

“He always gives a good speech, but he never sticks around for long. Is he really that busy that he can’t stay for a while?” Varien asked, as energetic music started to play over the crowd.

“I don’t think so,” Elma replied, “It’s more likely he’s going to check up on preparations for the bigwig’s afterparty. I can get you in there if you want.”

“Oh no no, i’m hopefully gonna be busy more or less.” Varien said abashedly.

“Hey, don’t sweat it! you’re basically there already.” Lin reassured her, “It’ll be a cinch!”

“As easy as eating a log!” L interjected while patting Varien on the back and everyone shared a hearty laugh, the grim memories fading away as the air of the party took hold and everyone began to relax and socialize.

“Linly, Linly!” Tatsu said trying to grab her attention, “Why did you not cook something for this big bash? It would have been a great hit!”

“Ha, you think i don’t have better things to do than cook all day for one event?” She replied, “I’ve got a whole new commercial type skell to build, let alone test the refurbished white whale engines to see if we could even leave this rock.”

“Thank god she’ll be finally building something i don’t have to wear full protective gear while testing,” Doug joked, “Think i can be a model? Wear some cool duds, sunglasses and be in all the magazines.” He did a few silly poses for emphasis.

“Oh i don’t think so,” Lin said wagging a finger, “you know there’s a huge host of things that could go wrong even on a test drive, someone could have put the intake exhaust bypass in backwards and you wouldn’t want to ruin your fancy suit.”

“I seriously hope you wouldn’t make THAT mistake again.” doug replied incredulously.

“Of course not Doug, i think i’ve given you enough hell with my minor slip ups in the past.” she answered, Doug visibly relaxing a bit. “Buuut i might do it on purpose to knock someone off their high horse instead.”

“Come here you,” Doug said, giving Lin a noogie, “You had better not, after all the crap i’ve put up with.” They devolved into giggles as the party continued, an excellent example of BLADE’s solidarity.

(Elsewhere in the party. i don’t have time to make these transitions not stupidly awkward sorry.)

“You know it doesn’t really count as socializing if you don’t talk to anybody Murderess,” Elma said walking up to the woman everyone else was giving a wide berth.

“You know I did away with that title, i just go by Sharon Effinger now that i restored my name. Not that that changes how people treat me but who cares, I’ve got a few people who like me.” She replied, not looking at Elma. “And that’s alright with me.”

“I can’t blame them, it feels colder just standing near you.” Elma joked, the humor lost on Sharon, who made a noise in between a hmmph and a grunt to voice her dislike of Elma’s jest. “If you want to move your image in a more positive direction an event like this is absolutely the place to do so.”

“Ha! You’re starting to sound like Varien, she’s always trying to get me to go out and talk to people or even that Hope person she’s so infatuated with.” Sharon replied, sardonically dismissing Elma’s advice. “Thinking that will be the magical fix it all to the issue, i swear for someone who can rip indigins in half with her bare hands she’s pretty damn naive some of the time… But she hasn’t steered me wrong in the past so who am i to judge.”

“Hey!” Hope interjected, walking into the conversation “You shouldn’t say something so mean about people who are close to you murde- i mean Sharon.”

“Wait, how much of our conversation did you hear?” Sharon replied, trying to backup in case she had revealed anything compromising, “I mean, uh. Oh great goody two shoes is gonna lecture me now.”

“We’ve been together for a while now so i find it slightly insulting that you described her feelings as infatuation but i’ll put my own personal anger aside to say that you should stop keeping your friends at arm's length.” Hope answered, “You say they’re your close friends but you limit your interaction with them because you’re afraid that after wearing a mask for so long they won’t like the real you-”

“And you need to own up to your real feelings more.” Sharon interrupted her, “see, i can do the whole therapist thing-” Hope slapped her across the face, Elma watching the two with a smirk,  “too… Alright fine, if you can change so can i.”

“And?” Hope said quizzically, the two of them staring each other down for a moment before Sharon yielded.

“Fine i’ll go apologize to varien.” She replied before storming off, though perhaps the crowd didn’t give her such a wide berth.

(Elsewhere in the party.)

“So wait, you and irina aren’t together anymore?” Phog asked gwin, “I hope there’s no hard feelings between you two, i know you’ve looked up to her for a long time so… hmmm how to put this nicely. That you might not want to let go of that very easily.”

“Oh no, it was because of that respect that i was able to realize it wasn’t gonna work out between us.” Gwin replied, “I remember being in the barracks after a mission with Elma’s team-”

“That story is confidential information gwin!” Irina interjected quickly, “please don’t it’s embarrassing.” Which elicited a chuckle from him.

“Well i haven’t heard this story,” Elma said sitting down in the circle of chairs that formed the cool kids club in BLADE, “So as your commanding officer i order you to tell it gwin.” Irina looked flustered.

“But colonel!” She cried and Elma gave her an expectant look, “I mean Elma, sorry… alright alright, you can tell the story too.”

“As i was saying, we had just got back from a mission with Elma’s team,” Gwin continued “Varien had enlisted us to help take down a Ganglion straggler stronghold out in the waters of cauldros guarded by a powerful Xeno skell and chock full of dangerous Milsaadi assassins plus-”

“I know this part already Gwin,” Elma cut him off, trying to get back to the point.

“Oh yeah, sorry ma’am.” He replied “Now where was I? Oh yeah, so Irina was just star struck with Elma’s performance in the battle and was gushing about all the little details she had noticed in her technique and abilities.”

“I was not gushing, just expounding on her many qualities and skills.” Irina sulked.

“You’re cute you know that.” Elma said, giving Irina a kiss on the cheek, who turned bright red and stayed quiet.

“I made some offhand comment like, maybe that’s why you fell for the ganglion trap, you were busy falling for someone else.” Gwin continued, “And she got up in my face saying, i was still aware of my surroundings and furthermore, this isn’t anything new! Then she realized the implications of what she had just said, so i put a hand on her shoulder and told her,” He paused for dramatic effect, “Go get em tiger.”

Everyone shared a good laugh as the party continued into the night, another BLADE telling a story around the metaphorical campfire.

(Later on in the evening.)

“And now! For the main event!” Commander Vandham shouted over the crowd, “A delight many of you know from your childhoods that we’ve only now been able to grow with these new facilities, our very first watermelon!” The people gathered around him cheered as he hoisted the fruit aloft, displaying it for all the world to see.

“I will let our very own Varien do us the honor of cutting it so put on a show for us will ya?” he declared, preparing to toss the melon into the air as varien took what could be called the sword version of a carving knife and stood ready as Vandham heaved the melon into the air.

Varien waiting for the perfect moment before striking and cutting the melon into even pieces, the cut up parts falling onto a well placed table and a little black box falling onto the outstretched blade.

There were a few gasps from the people gathered as Varien took the box over to Hope, dropping the sword and awkwardly holding the box out to her.

“Hope… Alanzi would you, would you-” Varien began but was interrupted by Lin.

“The knee, the knee!” She urged, doing the motion emphatically.

“Oh!” Varien exclaimed and bent down on one knee, “Hope Alanzi, would you marry me?” Hope covered her mouth for a moment a few tears rolling down her face.

“Yes, oh yes.” She replied, bringing up Varien and pulling her into a hug. “Thank you for sticking with me and supporting me.”

“You’re a bright beacon of light,” Varien said putting the ring on her finger, “and now that New LA’s not in so much danger i don’t mind hogging a little bit more of that light for myself.”

“Oh god that was cheesy,” Sharon whispered to Lin while everyone was clapping and being happy for the new couple, “looks like movie night is cancelled now too, such a shame.” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Hey she forgot about kneeling so she clearly needed it.” Lin said sadly, a little upset she wouldn’t get to stay up all night watching romantic comedies with Varien anymore. “Hold on a sec, you were never invited to those anyways how do you know about that?”

“Varien has no volume control.” She replied flatly and Lin suddenly became very self conscious.

“Sorry for keeping you up Ms. Effinger.” Lin said in the politest voice she could muster.

Satisfied, Sharon disappeared into the crowd as the party wrapped up, another chapter in humanity’s life on Mira over and a new one just beginning.

#XCX_FES17 #Xenoblade Chronicles X

[readersimagine]

The Days That’ll Never Come (1/7?)

Note: I thought of this a week ago while I was washing dishes. Hahaha this is my first time writing DC universe fanfic though I’ve been reading these for months now. I just wanted to share this thought to all. I got a help from my ever so loyal and amazing beautiful friend, who is also my beta reader. She helps me with my series most of the time. I hope you all enjoy it! I’m thinking of writing this with 7 parts??? We’ll see.

Y/N L/N - your first name and last name

S/N - your superhero name

A black Mercedes Benz car pulled over the new Grand Westward Hotel that recently opened a few months ago. Thousands of people crowded along the sidewalk behind the gold velvet ropes, in hopes to get a glance of the rich and the famous. The crowd was ecstatic and full of energy. People talked amongst themselves to guess who’s who were on the list. Some people even brought sharpies and papers just in case there’s a slight chance someone important comes there way and gives an autograph. Security kept a close eye of the crowd, standing by the ropes while wearing black suit and ties. Photographers stepped foot on the sides of the red carpet with their camera’s flash on, ready to take a shot of a publish-worthy picture. The driver opened the door, gasps and whispers ensued.

“Isn’t that Y/N L/N?”

“OMG, is that her?!”

The dazzling Y/N L/N placed one of her legs out and another off the car and came out. She stood beside her car as the valet took her car for parking. She revealed a gorgeous red dress that flowed down to her legs. Camera flashes immediately began to go off non-stop as soon as her car left. She turned towards the hotel and began walking towards the sidewalk and into the entrance door. She was bombarded by numerous questions but everything was muffled and toned down to her. She knew who she was. She was Y/N L/N. She knew all too well about her tragic history that the press didn’t need to remind her off. It didn’t matter to her that she wasn’t a socialite anymore. She was content of where she was now.

She strutted her way into the great big open doors of the place and was greeted by a man in tuxedo.

“Miss L/N, welcome to the Annual Tri-state Area Charity Ball. The party is to your right.” The man said

“Thank you.” Y/N said, flashing him a charming smile that melted him away.

She made her way to grand ballroom. The click of her heels followed suit and echoed through the hall. She heard soft jazz in background making her smile to herself as she walked in the room. It was indeed a high-end event when they have a live band playing jazz. She stood by the top of the grand staircase, having the best view of all the rich and the famous with their plastic and silicon coming all the way from New Jersey, New York, and Delaware to the city of Gotham. She laughed at how everyone was unrecognizable from their high school yearbooks due to their constructive surgeries. Some things never change in this society even though she was gone for years. Artificial beauty was still the norm.

She was once part of the glitz and the glamour but she left it all behind. Ever since the car accident that caused her parents’ lives, she decided to live with her aunt and uncle who raised her with all the love she deserves. Her inheritance including her shares were saved and managed by her uncle until a year ago, when she took over and started working. Now, she was back; ready to face the world with good morals on her hand and justice on the other.

She was glad that she was invited to the homelessness charity, But she knew too well it was because of her big name and the success story she might share. As much to her dismay, the accident still had its effects. But being here didn’t mean she had intentions of jumping into their band wagon again. She only came to provide for the people and nothing more.

The band switched songs into a slower song. The crowd gathered onto the dance floor, swaying their hips into the music. She started to descend the stairs as she looked ahead to the open bar.

“Perfect” she thought. She’ll need it to carry on for the rest of the night.

When she continued to look at that direction, her eyes lingered to see a handsome outline of a tall, strong build gentleman standing by the pillar. She caught his eyes and he gave her that genuine smile only reserved to her. She smiled back to him. She could recognize that face anywhere ever since she was a kid. She gracefully and excitedly walked towards him, crossing a parted sea of people.

And oh. Y/N’s breath was taken away when she saw his blue dazzling eyes that she always got lost into.

God! She felt nervous, a rising heart rate and cold sweats accompanied her in her walk. She stood in front of him. Y/N gazed at this man. Her first crush.

“Y/N L/N. It’s been too long.” He said with his deep smooth rich voice.

“It’s been a while, Bruce Wayne.” He took her hand and held it so gently as if it were made of porcelain. He brought it to his lips and gave her hand a feather-light gentle kiss. Her cheeks began to turn into a light shade of pink in response. She didn’t know it was possible for her heart to beat faster than earlier. However, her anxiety died down like the calm after the storm. This felt right just like before.

“I am so honoured that you graced me your presence tonight.” He teased and she laughed in response

“Bruce,” she playfully waved at hand at him, “Always such a tease.”

“It has been years since you’ve attended any socialite events. It’s good to see you again.” He smiled, just like how she remembered it when she was young.

“It has been a long time. I figured I would use this fame I have left for something good.” she said

“Following my footsteps, I see?” he said causing her to chuckle.

“Not a chance, heart breaker.” she retorted. Bruce placed his right hand over the left side of his chest.

“You wound me, Y/N.”

BAM! CLASH!

Bruce instantly wrapped his arms around Y/N and turned her away from the crowd. Y/N was too shocked to respond, safely cradled in Bruce’s arms. She looked up at Bruce, who was facing them away from the sound. Bruce looked at Y/N in the eyes and noticed how they were positioned. He slowly took his arms off Y/N. They both turned to look at the damage. The grand chandelier fell from the ceiling, nearly missing the people by the staircase. In an instant, the band stopped playing and was replaced by a deranged laugh. The two stiffened at the sound and became more guarded. It could only be one person. The Joker. Lo and behold, The Clown Prince of Gotham himself emerged amongst the band.

Bruce swiftly turned to look at Y/N with serious and concerned eyes. He held her hands and Y/N looked at him, concerned. She opened her mouth to say something but Bruce beat her to it.

“Get to safety, Y/N. Quickly. I need to take care of something.” He told her and took off to an employee exist near his right, not noticing Y/N slinking away into the shadows behind her.

It took a while for the Joker to say anything. He took off his disguise along with his comrades to reveal his clowned up face and his signature green hair wearing a white three-piece suit. His goons revealed their hideous scary looking clown masks, still suited in their band disguises.

“Well isn’t this quite a party.” He said, face contorted into his signature smile, showing the scars on his cheeks. His goons started to flock into the room. Weary guests started to run towards the exits but were faced with closed doors.

“Awww leaving so soon? The party's just getting started!” He exclaimed before he laughed.

High pitched shrieks, shouts of panic, and heavy footsteps filled the room soon after they realized they were all trapped inside with the Joker.

Suddenly, the glass windows shattered as a man in black entered the closed off grand room. He landed right in front of the Joker causing the grin on the Joker’s face to widen. The man in black straightened and towered over the clown.

“Well if it isn’t Batsy. You came just in time for the party.” The joker said to Batman, but only receiving a glare in return.

“Let these people go, Joker.” Batman demanded.

“Ohh. No can do, Batsy.” The Joker shook his head as he looked down. “Where would the fun be with that?” The Joker said as he looked up before he ordered his men to take the guests.

Batman took his stance and threw a smoke bomb at Joker’s goons. He maneuvered in the smoke easily as Joker’s goons blindly threw punches in the smoke-filled air. He grabbed one of the goons and punched him, knocking them out. He high kicked the one on his right causing them to fly off to a nearby table. One goon started running towards Batman and was about to attack him when he caught the goon’s hand and threw him on the ground. The smoke was clearing up, revealing a guest emptied grand ballroom. Only Batman, the Joker and his goons were left inside. Everyone turned their heads around to see the room.

“WHAT HAPPENED!?” the Joker shouted angrily as he continued to survey the room. Everyone stopped fighting. His eyes were opened in rage, wrinkles were evident on his face and his jaw clenched. Even though he had his classic white makeup on, he’s face fumed red. Batman looked around to find a mysterious woman with a full-on tech mask wearing a black mono-chrome skin-tight suit with armour. The Joker followed Batman’s gaze and spotted the said mysterious woman.

“YOU WEREN’T INVITED, S/N!!!!” The Joker shouted at the female vigilante. He shook in anger. Underneath her mask, she smirked at him.

“Well you guys weren’t really invited to this party either. I didn’t see your names on the list.” She stood on her spot. She stared at the Joker whose enraged. Batman immediately pressed a button on his utility belt sending a recorded transmission back to the Bat Cave.

“GET HER!” The Joker commanded his goons. The fight between the vigilantes and the goons began.

Meanwhile in the Bat Cave, Robin and Nightwing were on stand by. They knew too well that the Joker was on the loose but Bruce ordered them to stay in until he needed them.

“This sucks.” Dick impatiently said in his Nightwing uniform. He tossed his escrima sticks in the air like a twirling baton and he leaned by the railings of the bat cave near the computer.

“Be patient, Dick.” Tim replied while he was in his Robin uniform to his adoptive brother. He spun around using the chair in front of the bat computer, waiting for the signal.

Suddenly, a message popped up on the bat computer monitor. Nightwing sat up and grabbed his escrima sticks as they fell on his hands. He walked towards Robin who spun back into position and opened the message.

“Operation identity revelation in commence.” Batman said on the recorded message. Robin looked at Nightwing, who knowingly nodded at him. It was time.

In the grand ballroom of the Grand Westward Hotel, the goons split into two. One ran towards S/N  and began to attack her while the others defended the Joker from Batman. S/N touched the right ear side of her helmet. She heard a chime sound in her helmet and then radio static was heard. She was connected to Batman’s radio transmitter.

“Testing? Batman can you hear me?” she asked. Batman listened carefully to her voice as he fought off Joker’s goons. Her voice was unrecognizable due to her voice distorter machine.

“Clearly.” He answered.

“I let the guests escape. I’ll take care of the goons.” She said as she landed a mean right hook to one of the goons attacking her.

“Noted.” He said when knocked out the last goon in his way. He spotted the Joker and ran after him. S/N continued fighting the rest of the goons, defeating each and everyone of them.

Batman and Joker continued their showdown on the grand staircase. Batman avoided the Joker’s attacks and kicked him off the stairs. The Joker groaned in pain as he hit the floor. Batman jumped after him and sedated him. He placed a high tech Arkham handcuffs. Commissioner Gordon and the GCPD entered the ballroom soon after S/N took out the last goon. The commissioner ordered his men to apprehend the Joker and his goons and approached the two vigilantes.

“Thank you, S/N and Batman, for defeating-” he started but was cut off by the sound of Batman’s grappling hook shooting into the distance.

“-the Joker.” He watched Batman flew into the night sky. His gaze fell on the female vigilante who saluted him before leaving as well. He just chuckled in response to the two as he shook his head.

The two vigilantes jumped from building to building in the Gotham City skyline. Batman led them away from the hotel. Not too far away from them, Nightwing followed behind them, watching S/N’s actions intently.

Batman landed at the top of an abandoned building by the river as S/N followed suit. He waited for S/N to land on the building’s roof before turning around to see the vigilante. Nightwing stayed close by hiding at the rooftop that was close to where Batman was.

“S/N.” he greeted.

“Batman.” She said.

“Thank you for the help tonight.” He said

“No problem. I was around and I thought you need a hand since I saw your little birdies weren’t around.” She said. He smirked at her response.

“They were busy.” He said. Nightwing and Robin were watching and listening to them throughout the entire night since the battle begun. S/N paced around the roof and looked around, finally setting her gaze at him.

“You know, I know they are listening.” She said with her hands behind her back and a smirk on her face.

“Whatever do you mean?” he asked, cursing in his mind. He wanted to gather evidence about S/N as much as possible from tonight’s encounter with the Joker. He didn’t like the idea of not knowing anything about the newest member of the Justice League.

“I heard them through the transmitter that I connected into and I saw one of them earlier.” S/N walked closer to him.

“They need more practice, Bruce.” He flinched at the sound of his name.

‘How did you know who he is?’ he thought to himself.

Nightwing and Robin did the same. Robin continuous typed in the bat computer to restore the recorded voice of S/N in his program especially made to undistort voices. He was now working in on a whole new time limit. Beads of sweat started to show on his face that Alfred, the loyal butler of the Wayne’s, noticed on Robin’s face. Nightwing narrowed his eyes at S/N’s figure from afar using his binoculars.

“Got any info yet, Robin.” Nightwing asked through a separate transmitter between him and Robin. He kept a close eye on the two vigilantes that’s two buildings away from him.

“Not yet. She’s a professional. This wouldn’t be too easy.” Robin said as he focused on his task.

“Who is this Bruce you speak of?” Batman asked, hoping he can redirect this topic to S/N. Nightwing faced palmed as he listened to the two. Robin was too busy to react while Alfred stifled a laugh at such a serious moment. S/N chuckled. She noticed his sudden flinch and the way he muttered his own name.

“You too need to work on your lying skills, Wayne.” She said. Batman uncomfortably stood in front of S/N. His heart rate increased. The mission wasn’t going as planned but he kept his composure. Nightwing stood and got ready to back up Bruce if things get more worse.

“You know…” S/N voice lingered as she stared at Batman. “You could have asked me who I am.” She continued as she stood in front of him with her hand placed on her hip.

“Wouldn’t that be too easy, S/N.” he said sarcastically.

“No, honestly. You could just have asked.” She honestly said.

“Out of all those times you’ve helped me and the League, you are just telling me now that I could have known your secret identity if I asked?” he questioned, skeptical of the idea.

She laughed and shook her head. Batman changed his stance and put his guard up when S/N began to reach for her helmet. She clicked something on the bottom of her full-head mask to retract it, revealing her still-full-of-make-up face.

“Y/N?” Batman whispered, leaving his mouth slightly parted; shocked to see his childhood friend to be the mysterious S/N. He relaxed and let his guard down.

“Wha-what? How is this possible?” he asked, perplexed.

Nightwing, Robin, and Alfred listened and watched the whole revelation. What caught their eye wasn’t the eye-catching Y/N L/N but Bruce’s lack of words. Alfred smiled to himself as he watched the footage from the roof top play on the bat computer monitor. He hasn’t seen Miss L/N in years since she moved away after Bruce and Y/n’s years in high school, exactly fifteen years from now.

“Wasn’t she the woman Bruce was talking to in the charity ball?” Robin turned to look at Alfred who stood beside him, still looking at the marvelous Y/N.

“Yes, indeed Master Tim. She is Master Bruce’s dearest friend.” Alfred said as he continued to look at the monitor, emphasizing that the word ‘friend’ had a deeper meaning to it. Robin watched Alfred and turned to watch his adoptive father gaze at the woman whom he had known for so long.

“Does he always get awe struck whenever he sees her?” Robin bluntly asked only to receive a chuckle from Nightwing through the radio.

“Haven’t seen Bruce like this even with Selina nor Angela.” Nightwing said as he watched the two slowly walked towards each other on the roof top.

“Everything is possible, Bruce.” She said with a shy smile. She stopped walking to him when they are a meter apart.

“How didn’t I know it was you all this time?” He asked more to himself

“Like I said, I’m better at keeping secrets, Bruce. You could use more practice.” She retorted causing Bruce to chuckle. His gaze was soft as he looked at Y/N, his cold exterior melted and once returned to his younger self.

Everyone focused on the two dearest friends, unaware of the hooded figure on the other building watching as well.

#batman imagine #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #imagine #imagines #reader imagine #x reader #nightwing #red hood #red robin #robin #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x reader

[xxprincessjewelsxx]

BTS | Their s/o Has An Over Protective Mother

Anonymous said:

You know how in scenarios, people usually write the reader having a protective father? Well, how about instead the reader having a protective mother? So, whenever you aren't busy, can you please do a big bang and bts reactions to their s/o's protective mom? (the reader is dating them) :) thanks!

Jin: It had actually be Jin’s decision to talk to your mother in private. You had told him that she could be over protective and that when he first met her things might be a bit iffy. But he took it upon himself to want to talk to her and tell her about him and about your relationship and answer any questions she might have man to woman.

“You do realize it’s not going to go the way you have it all planned out in your head,” you warned, “It’s not going to be Twenty Questions, and then life will go on like it normally does. Seriously, in the seven circles of Hell my mother’s questioning tactics are used as means of torture...I can show you where Dante wrote about them.”

“I’ll be fine, Y/N...me and your mom are just going to talk and then we’ll have dinner and everyone will go about their business and no one will have anything to worry about.”

*Several Hours Later*

Jin came walking out of your father’s home office, which your mother had borrowed for the private conversation, and flopped on the couch, his head landing in your lap. “How was it?”

“I think I cried,” he replied.

Suga/Yoongi: For Yoongi, Sunday afternoons that he rarely had off could be better spent curled up on the couch with you watching a movie. Instead you had dragged him to your parents house. He wasn’t objecting to meeting your parents...the fact was he just wasn’t looking forward to it.

You had told him about how your mother could be a little on the over protective side and that whenever you had mentioned him she would start questioning you about everything in the book. 

“Just try to avoid any sensitive subjects...” you reminded him, as you stood at the front door a pie in hand.

“I would rather not talk about that with your parents to begin with,” he said, “If it’s brought up it definitely wont be by me.”

The door opened and your mother was stood there a half-hearted smile on her face and she greeted the both of you. “This is must be the rapper that you’re dating...what’s your stage name again umm something wit STD in it...I can never remember. I truly hope you’re not hinting at anything...coffee anyone?”

“Best day off ever...” Yoongi sighed.

J-Hope/Hoseok: *Starts campaign to protect this ball of sunshine* “Hoseok...you really didn’t have to come with me,” you said as you headed up to the door of your childhood home. Just a few more steps and there was no way out.

“I wanted to come, jagi...plus I need to meet your parents sooner or later,” he said, his perfect smile plastered on his face.

“It’s not gonna be that-...” it was too late, he knocked on the door. Say goodbye to the sunshine...the rain cloud was arriving in the form of your mother.

When your mother opened the door Hoseok smiled at her and held up the soup pot that he had been carrying for you. “Hello Mrs. Y/L/N, I’m Hoseok...Y/N said you weren’t feeling good so we brought you soup in hopes that you feel better.”

“Do you think bringing me soup will make me like you any better Mr. “Y/N I’m out of the shower you can use it now”....I can see by your faces you didn’t realize that I heard that little conversation,” your mother said.

“I...I just used Y/N’s shower...we haven’t even done anything yet...” Hoseok said.

“Yet...and never would if I had my way...” you mother said before taking the soup pot and giving you both on parting glance before shutting the door.

“I just wanted her to like me...” he said sadly.

Rap Monster/Namjoon: “Why is my mother looking at you like you just kicked a small animal?” you questioned walking into your mother’s dining room to see him sitting at the table, your mother sending him death glares.

“I...tried to help with dinner...” he said.

“When you said his nickname was the God of Destruction cause he was clumsy...you didn’t say I had to protect everything in my house. First, I have to worry about this boy and what he’s doing with you and then I have to worry about my fine china,” your mother said, starting on a rant.

“What did you break?” you questioned.

“This expensive looking platter...” he replied.

“So...only the oldest and most valuable thing in the house,” you said, ��What else?”

“I knocked over some glasses...”

“Just keep him out of my kitchen,” your mother said, “You better not be having any sort of sexual relationship because at this point I’m afraid of where things might go!” After that moment your mother continue to rant about how she couldn’t believe you had found such a destructive young and how she thought she had taught you better and blah blah blah.

“I think I’ll go take a walk,” Namjoon said, going to put on his sun glasses, only to accidentally break them in the process.

“YOU TWO ARE NEVER GETTING MARRIED!”

Jimin: For about a month you and Jimin had finally made plans to go and visit your family. His schedule really had nothing to do with the fact that you hadn’t gone yet, he had several times said he could take a couple days off for family (which you of course were to him), but it was more because of your mother.

Unlike your father, who was thrilled that his child was not only happy in their professional but love life...your mother wasn’t having any of it. Not only was she not happy that you moved to a big city at such a young age she was not happy that you were dating someone whose job kept him away for not only days but sometimes months at a time.

So when “D Day” started to creep up you started to show signs of nervousness that only made Jimin nervous.

~3:30 AM~

You had gotten up for a glass of water and headed to the kitchen and saw the living room light on. Finding it strange that the light was on on not only Jimin’s day off but the night before an important event when he should be getting sleep you started to get worried. “Jimin...why are you up, we have to catch the train at eight,” you said, seeing him hunched over a notebook, “Are you working?”

“I’m not working...I’m studying,” he said.

“For what?” you questioned.

“You told me about your grandparents, siblings, parents, their jobs, the family business, you’ve showed me pictures so I know who is who, your mother’s favorite EVERYTHINGS....I need to be ready,” he replied, “For all I know there could be a pop quiz.”

“I don’t think that-”

“You never know!”

V/Taehyung: The evening had gone surprising well. Which made you suspicious; you weren’t so suspicious about your father and Tae getting along as you were him and your mother. Your father had as much of a sick sense of humor as he did so you figured that between the two of them the laughter would be hard to control.

As for your mother, you weren’t expecting her to hug Tae and warmly welcome him to her home. On more than one occasion you had asked her “what are you up to?” only to receive a smile and her saying “Up to? Sweetheart, I’m happy for you.”

Bullshit

She was planning something; your mother had always been over protective, always scaring away anyone you brought home to meet them. Even scaring away a few friends. So as you sat down for dinner and your mother’s demeanor started to change you knew something was coming.

“So Taehyung...” she said, setting down her fork and knife.

“Yes ma’am?”

“I can see that Y/N...for some reason likes you, I can’t figure it out yet what with a job that keeps you away for so long, but I do have to tell you one thing,” he said before pointing her knife at him, “I better not find out that you have gone very far.” Your mother didn’t have to give specifics to know what she was talking about, but all the same you were completely embarrassed.

“Well ma’am...I have some bad news for you...” he started, a terrified look forming on your face.

“I would have to check Y/N’s passport, but I think I think the furthest we’ve gone is New York....”

There was silence in the room before your father burst out into laughter. ‘Well at least someone found it funny,’ you thought.

Jungkook: You had saved up for a year for this dinner. If your mother was going to meet Jungkook is was going to be in a public (but of course not too public) setting. So when your mother’s birthday came around your parents out to Seoul and you went out to dinner on her birthday.

“I can pay, you know that right,” Jungkook whispered to you, “I don’t mind treating you guys, especially on your mom’s birthday.”

“Yeah, I know...but she’ll turn it into a thing like you’re trying to impress her...just let me get this,” you whispered back, earning a nod from him.

So far the evening had been going well, and by well you considered Jungkook only getting dirty looks from your mother instead of an earful unlike what you had on the phone. Your mother was convinced that the relationship would never last with what his job was like and that he was just going to turn into some playboy. She didn’t get that past the hip thrusts that he gave on stage there was a shy boy who that after you two met in the coffee shop you worked at took some time for him to actually get the nerve to ask you on a date.

Dinner was pretty quiet, your father mainly the one to break the silence asking about both of your jobs and how they were going and asking how you had been adjusting to life in the big city over the past couple of years.

“It was hard adjusting at first since I didn’t really know anyone, but when Jungkook and I became friends and then started dating that really help since I actually had someone to talk to,” you said, looking at Jungkook and smiling.

“He better not be helping you adjust too much,” your mother chimed in.

“Mom...” you said lowly, “Don’t start.”

“You come to the city and next thing I know you have a boyfriend...he just better be aware that if he does anything with you he’ll never be able to have kids, especially not with you,” she said, looking at him with an evil grin.

Jungkook popped his head up from eating with a terrified look on his face. “Oh...well...um....”

xxBTS-Masterlistxx

#kpop reactions #bts reactions #Bts #jungkook #jung jungkook #jin #kim seokjin #suga #min yoongi #rap monster #kim namjoon #jhope #jung hoseok #jimin #park jimin #v #kim taehyung