remember when supercorp haters earnestly acted like lena was going to be nothing more than a lesson on a last name not defining someone/said she wouldn’t make it past 2x08 (AND if she did she’d just become a villain) when now the romantic side of supercorp has been acknowledged by katie, melissa, cast, crew and even demon homophobes. miss mcgrath herself shut nasties down by saying it was “naive” of her not to originally perceive kara and lena’s relationship as having gay undertones. supercorp has only risen and even well known disparagers of our pairing are joining the winning team because kara/lena’s relationship is now glaringly non platonic
Cassandra crept away from the party like she always did, making eye contact with Bruce to get the small, knowing nod of his head, before slipping off her heels and disappearing into the shadows.
The further Cassandra separated herself from the clinking champagne flutes and high-pitched laughs of the Gotham socialites, the more at ease she felt. None of her other siblings or mentors or friends had been there tonight, else she would escaped to Barbara, or Stephanie, or Tim, or Duke’s side. And they would have smiled at her and kept her company. But tonight, there was only herself and Bruce, and she couldn’t bear to think of bothering him with her loneliness.
So, she left.
Cass inhaled the night air and deep, richness of soil, allowing herself to wander. She waded through the soft grass of the yard in her bare feet, the cool, early-morning dew already getting in between her toes. The towering shadows of marble statues depicting Greek gods and goddesses - new additions to the garden - swallowed her as she traced her way through them.
Gingerly, she picked up the hem of the backless, dark-blue Zuhair Murad number, its glittering rhinestones rippling as she broke out into a run across the lawn. Her dress mirrored the clear starry sky that covered her like a tent, and was the only real, tangible reason she had chosen it. But also because Bruce had smiled when she had shown it to him.
Cass heard the voice before she saw it. Small, repressed, choking sobs that were still managing to escape no matter how hard the voice tried to stop them. She could practically hear the anger, the frustration as quick, gasping breaths and sniffles floated to her from behind the towering statue of Zeus.
She froze in front of the marble image, the white, hollow eyes staring down at her with rage-filled fury, wielding a bolt of lightning in his right hand, and swallowed. Then she reached out a hand, cautiously pressing it against the cold stone, and ducked around the great, muscled leg of the god.
“Damian,” she said, her voice scarcely more than a whisper.
Damian started, guilt leaking from his watery eyes as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. But all Cass could see were the teardrops, rolling down his face and leaving trails across ruddy, brown skin. She took another small step forward and watched him run a small arm across his eyes and nose.
“Cassandra,” he acknowledged in a gruff, husky voice that still could not hide his young age. “Before you ask, I-I am fine. I simply… needed to be alone be-because… because I…”
Cassandra said nothing as she stood there, watching him sadly, letting the boy realise even in the middle of reaching for his excuses that he had none to give. He couldn’t even bring himself to lie about this.
His mouth moved wordlessly, new tears brimming collecting, brimming, spilling over the lids of his eyes. He buried his face into his arms shamefully, his small chest heaving, but did not move when Cass sat down beside him.
She was a pair of strong, soft arms, reaching around her brother and bringing his head to rest against her chest. He did not fight her, nor the racking sobs that rattled in his chest with a vengeance.
Tears fell gently onto glittering rhinestones, causing them to shimmer all the more in the darkness as Cass leaned over and pressed her lips against the boy’s forehead, whispering firmly into it.
Status: Part Two of Three - Part One is HERE Category: General, behind-the-scenes canon compliant, mystery Rating: Teen & Up Character(s)/Pairing(s): References to people & places you know Warnings: None Author’s Note: *See below Overall Summary: In the mid-1950s, a member of the New York City chapter of the Men of Letters is sent to the United Kingdom to assist with what appears to be another stack of cold case dead-ends, when he suddenly finds himself questioning one of his closest-held convictions.
She was already sipping and though the sugar cubes in my teacup had long dissolved, I was still watching the dark orange liquid swirl around my spoon. The soft clink of her cup coming to rest on its saucer prompted me to stop. I cleared my throat to try and clear my head, setting the spoon aside, then raising my eyes.
“Try it. Make sure you like it. We’ll whip up a different kind if not.”
“I’m sure it will be fine.”
I lifted my cup and drank to prove it to her, forced a small smile as I swallowed. I was a coffee person. I was not going to let my hostess know.
“I thought I’d begin with imparting information. You and your colleague have gotten many things…”
“The professor is not elusive due to assistance by a coven. Not by what I’d call magic.”
“What would you call it?”
She rotated the teacup slowly between her hands, eyes not leaving mine, replying, “I would call it ingenuity.”
“And her daughter?”
“The girl is long dead. The completely ordinary girl. Your second incorrect assumption.”
“But Sunder had been with angels, we—”
“I cannot speak to the professor’s personal life. I can only say she was in the company of a Seraphim before she left.”
“But how can you be certain that they weren’t…. weren’t involved for longer, that perhaps—”
The borderline glare cut me off well before the cold tone.
“This is your concern - knowing if they were involved?“
She uttered a short tsk, gave me a slow shake of the head as she once more lifted her teacup, but she paused to say one last thing before drinking.
“Humans find such fascinating ways to waste their time.”
A/N. JEFF DESERVES BETTER! And because of this, and because I am trash, I rewrote the ending of episode 9 - Clay doesn’t leave, Hannah and Sheri don’t knock over the stop sign, and everyone is safe. I hope you guys like it, and I am more than willing to take requests. Feel free to message me guys. Let’s cry together.
WORD COUNT: 3,420
The music was blasting, the beer was flowing, and Jessica and Justin were on the verge of procreating on the couch. (Y/n) rolled her eyes at the two sophomores and squeezed through the crowd, balancing the two drinks in her hands as she weaved around the drunk teenagers. She finally made it outside, sucking in a breath of the cooling autumn air and sighing. She was pretty sure Monty had brushed up against her ass. Horny asshole.
She looked around the far less populated, but still crowded, front yard, picking out her boyfriend from the way his poofy hair stood out above everyone else. He was talking to Clay, and as she approached she saw him roll his eyes violently, his whole body swaying with the force of it.
Damn Jensen, she thought with a laugh, you’re gonna break my boyfriend of you and Hannah don’t bang soon.