#danvers state hospital

[heathengentleman]

Danvers State Hospital

[dlyarchitecture]

[myhauntedsalem]

Danvers State Hospital Cemetery

Danvers, Massachusetts

Danvers State Hospital was built in the mid-1800’s and operated until 1992. From 1992 until 2007 it was abandoned and served as a beacon to thrill-seekers and ghost hunters. If you wanted to find ghosts, this would be the place. With its peaked towers, labyrinthine corridors and network of underground tunnels.

The hospital’s history also contributed to the legends about it being haunted. Built initially to house 600 people, at its peak Danvers had 2,300 inmates living in overcrowded conditions. Lobotomies and electro-shock therapy were common treatments. Danvers saw a lot of misery and unhappiness in its time. Where better to find restless souls? Staff who worked there claimed it was haunted even while it was open and paranormal researchers photographed glowing orbs on the hospital’s grounds after it was closed.

In 2001, the horror film Session 9 was filmed inside the abandoned hospital buildings. The movie tells the story of an asbestos remediation crew hired to start renovating an abandoned insane asylum. Needless to say, many bad things happen.

In 2005 the state sold the hospital to real estate developers who wanted to make an apartment complex. Despite protests from local historic preservationists they tore down most of the original buildings and built several new ones. In 2007, a fire of unknown origin destroyed most of the newly constructed buildings. All the video cameras that had been set up to monitor the site shut down before the fire began.

Real estate developers are even more persistent than ghosts, so eventually the Danvers site was successfully converted into an apartment complex called Avalon Danvers.

They did not remove the asylum’s cemetery which is located down the hill from the apartment complex.

Inmates who died in the asylum and whose corpses were unclaimed are buried here. The hospital staff marked their graves with numbered stones rather than headstones bearing their names which was a very institutional way of dealing with the dead. The numbered stone markers still exist. Some are small squares embedded in the ground, while others are stone posts. There were hundreds of markers.

[cardcaptorsakura96]

Taxes, Taxes, Taxes-Chapter 3

Fandom: Supergirl

Characters: Kara Danvers, Clark Kent, Samantha Arias, Lena Luthor

Summary: What if superheroes had to pay a property damage tax every time they had a fight in the city?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Kara was seated across from Lena in her office. They were both just staring at each other with Samantha looking at them nervously from the other side of the room. It felt like they were in a never ending don’t blink challenge except that it had only been just a few minutes. Lena’s startled stare from early had turned icy. Kara had to admit to herself that Lena was impressive. The girl exuded confidence and intimidation with her stare, but it wasn’t enough to scare Kara off. She just kept giving her brightest smile while she waited. After another 2 minutes, Lena blinked, sighed, and shook her head. Kara had to stifle the chuckle that threaten to come out of her mouth. 

I may be able to wear her down just yet.

“Why are you here, Supergirl?”

“As I was telling your co-worker over there, I am here to volunteer for the hospital. I saw that you needed people to interact with the….”

Lena shook her head and said, “No, No. No. Don’t give me that professional bullshit! Why are you really here?”

The raven haired beauty leaned forwarded in her chair with her eyes issuing a challenge. 

Ah, she can be insightful. But would she be receptive to my true motives though?

“Honestly, I would like to use this opportunity to set myself apart from the one you called if I remembered correctly, a pompous jackass.”

“I knew I should have paid extra to have this whole office sound proof,” Lena muttered. 

Kara chuckled to herself. Lena was proving herself to be more and more interesting. She just wished she could be completely honest with her. It wasn’t quite a lie that she told her. She hated constantly being compared to the golden child that is her cousin. At least that is what the public believes. They already established a narrative in the papers that she was not only his cousin but that she was younger than him and had took her in like she was some poor defenseless child. 

If only they knew that I am not only technically older, but had to change that bumbling idiots diapers. 

“Some would see this as some type of ploy given our families history,” mused Lena. 

Hmmm, not taking the original statement. Going to have to push just a bit harder.

“I do see your point, but I think this can be an opportunity to help each other.”

Lena narrowed her eyes and scoffed. 

“And how exactly is that?”

Kara smiled brightly and said, “I did a quick research on this hospital last night. You poured a good portion of your money into this place to create state of the art equipment to provide the best quality of care for the children here. However, you have no investors to keep the cash flow coming. Several papers have done hit pieces which suggest you are working with Lex at the hospital in order to experiment on kids.”

“Which are all lies!”

Kara smirked and said, “I know that, but the public needs help with figuring that out.”

“What do you suggest?”

“I propose a partnership between the both of us. You can use photos and videos of me interacting with the kids at the hospital, and I can make an appearance at the hospital’s benefits and events to create a positive spin to rehab this place’s image.”

“And what would you want in return?”

“I just need to work off my $10,000. Plus, it would be an added bonus if this helps people to stop mistaking me for my cousin.”

Lena sighed and placed her head in her hands. 

“I don’t know about all of this.”

Sam came over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Lena, this really could be we have been waiting for.”

“There has to be another way,” Lena muttered. 

Kara leaned back into her chair with a coy smile. 

“I guess the question you need to ask yourself is if you want your pride to come before the hospital since you don’t have enough money to keep it open another two months.”

Lena smashed her fist on her desk and looked enraged. 

“Hey! That is not fair. I can stretch my funds a little longer until we find somebody…”

Kara brightly smiled while leaning forward. 

“Do tell. Who exactly will be helping? The public hates you. Other superheroes seem to have the same perception as well since I am the only superhero that has applied to your posting other than the trolls since it went live over a year ago.”

The hate for Lena wasn’t exaggerated. The vitriol that Kara read in the paper about Lena made her skin crawl. The other superheroes weren’t much better. Some wanted to torture Lena to find out what she knew about Lex, but Clark stopped them. That startled Kara considering his hatred towards her brother. He said that going after her would go against everything they stood for. Kara often wondered if that was really true or if he was just giving the politically correct response. Kara stared back at Lena. She looked like she was in emotional turmoil twisting her hands like they were on fire.

Sam shook her head and sighed. 

“Lena, we are at the point where it is this or your mother and you know how your mother is.”

Lena placed her head in her arms on the desk and groaned for a moment. 

She looked back up with a grimace on her face. 

“Alright, we have a deal.”

Kara smiled brightly and put out her hand. Lena looked at it with a frown at first but gradually took her hand and shook it.

“Trust me! This will be a start of a beautiful relationship.”

“If only I could believe that fully.”

“Aww. Don’t sulk. I think we can make SuperCorp into a thing.”

Lena raised an eyebrow while staring at Kara.

“SuperCorp?”

“Yeah. A Super and a Corporate woman putting their families petty differences aside to make the world a better place. You can use it in marketing to promote the activities and benefits you want me to come too.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Sam chuckled and said, “It sounds perfect. I can already think of the things we can do with that theme.”

She quickly began jotting several ideas down in her phone.

Lena stared incredulously at her friend and loudly whispered, “Don’t encourage her!”

She turned back to Kara with reigned in passivity. 

“How do I contact you about upcoming events?”

Kara pulled from her pocket a small hand held device and handed it to Lena. She looked back up at Kara with confusion.

“You really just want me to press just the red button and you come running straight here?”

Kara chuckled and said, “While the red button is for emergencies, there are several other smaller buttons that you can used on the device.”

Lena frowned and looked at it more closely. She didn’t notice before, but there were several buttons, a phone and a pen. She pressed the phone icon which produced a holographic keypad where you can dial out and make a call. She noticed it had a contact list which currently only listed Supergirl, but didn’t display the number. She pressed the pen icon which brought up a holographic keyboard where she could type out messages. 

She looked up at Kara impressed but quickly changed her expression to passiveness. 

“This will do just nicely.”

She is so cute trying to hide how much she likes the tech.

Kara was jolted out of thought by a noise coming through her comms. 

“Supergirl, this is Batman. We need you in Central City. Gorilla Grodd and Solomon Grundy are raiding S.T.A.R. Labs.”

Kara sighed because she had been enjoying the tense conversation with the intriguing Ms. Luthor. 

“I am sorry to have to cut this meeting short. Duty calls.”

With that, Kara quickly flew from the room. 

It may take some time, but I think I can win Ms. Luthor over. 

[oneshotnewbie]

Can you do a oneshot where 16 year old b!d has to get her tonsils taken out and her sisters take care of her.

ᕚ---ᕘ

You lay on one of the sterile hospital beds, surrounded by quiet medical equipment, anxiously surveying the room where you had been sent in with Alex and Kara. Your face is marked with pain, eyes exhausted as you gently touched your neck with one hand, the other resting in the blonde's hand. Your breathing was shallow and uneven, your heart pounding violently against your jaw.

“Please stop squeezing around there,” the blonde spoke softly, the worry and fear evident in her whispering voice as she pulled your fingers from your skin and intertwined them with hers.  "You are already finding it difficult to breathe. You do noz need to make it any harder for yourself." You nodded at her in agreement and looked over at the eldest of your sisters. She stood visibly nervous at one of the bedside tables and, completely lost in thought, poured you a glass of water before offering it to you. You swallowed the cool wet hard and tried to smile at her gratefully, but the pain was too much.

Kara and Alex shared worried glances before speaking to you in calm voices to reassure not only you but themselves as well. "We will be with you the whole time, you do not need to be afraid." The redhead spoke and Kara began to tell you about her life on Krypton while you waited together for the doctor. The pain in your throat was not easing but rather increasing, but the distraction and support of your sisters helped ease the fear somewhat as you waited impatiently.

Less than ten minutes later there was a knock on the door and a nurse came into the examination room with a push cart and a big smile on her lips. "Hello, are you Alex and Kara Danvers?" She happily greeted your siblings and shook their hands before taking gloves from the compartment and making her way to you. "And you must be our new patient. How are you?"

While your sisters took turns speaking in their hands to spare you the pain of speaking, the nurse did some preliminary tests and held a thermometer in front of your forehead. "Her temperature is slightly elevated." She asked saddened by this realization, taking notes on the tablet. She looked worried as she placed her cool hands on your neck, carefully examining the pressure points before looking into your mouth. “Her tonsils are severely swollen and red, almost to the point of suffocation. Doctor Cross will be with you shortly."

As soon as the words were spoken, an older gentleman in a white coat entered the room. The nurse was quick to explain the information she found out during the preliminary investigation and he nodded understandingly at the nurse before she left the room. He sat down on one of the swivel chairs and skillfully slid to the side of your bed. "Hello, young lady. I am Doctor Cross and I heard that you are having problems with your throat?" He pointed on it with a serious expression as he took a lamp with a forehead mirror out of his coat shortly after. You nodded at him, gesturing to your siblings to please continue the conversation again while he glanced down your throat.

"She can hardly talk or swallow. It is difficult for her to drink and she can not eat at all anymore. She has been complaining about shortness of breath since this morning," the red-haired woman explained to the doctor about your state of health and stood at the edge of the bed, where she gave you a hand sad smile. "How long has she been having these symptoms?"

"For about a week. At first we thought it was just a simple cold but since Sunday she has had a hard time getting her tea and soup down. As I said, she has only had shortness of breath since this morning, which is why we brought her here straight away. " Alex repeated in her mind and they continued talking for a moment before he informed you all that you needed emergency surgery. Shocked, you nodded weakly, fear evident on your face. Alex Danvers gently held her hand on your head as the doctor began to fill you in on the preparations for the surgery. Kara whispered soothing words in your ear, gently running her thumb over your skin as she reassured you that everything would be okay.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Four days after the tonsillectomy, you were able to leave the hospital with a clear conscience and excellent health. The surgeon had carried out the procedure with precision and concentration, closing the stitches on the wounds methodically and perfectly so that you felt no pain or after-effects. Alex had picked you up after the last check-up and driven you back home, where Kara was already waiting for you with a loving smile on her lips and a strong hug.

"It feels so good to be home again," you said, slightly exhausted but happy to be back in your own four walls. The days after the procedure were difficult for you, but it was even more nerve-wracking to be without your sisters, who visited you but could not spend the whole day with you. "You have done the hardest part. Now all you need is rest and patience for complete healing." The redhead said calmly and happily as she carried a bag with medication and the doctor's instructions into the apartment.

You entered the middle of the apartment with a weak but satisfied smile before two arms hooked under your forearms and carefully guided you to the comfortable couch that was prepared with pillows and blankets. “You did all this for me?” You asked the two of them and the blonde immediately made sure that you were sitting comfortably while Alex arranged the medication neatly on the table for you. "Of course! We want to make sure you are comfortable," Kara spoke, gently placing a blanket over your body before briefly disappearing from your sight and walking into your room. She came back with some books under her arms that you had never seen before in your book corner. "Here are three new books that we bought for you, in case you need some relaxation. And you will get a cup of ypur favorite tea too."

"You guys are the best. I honestly do not know what I would do without you," you acknowledged, immediately pushing yourself into one of the comfier pillows that provided the perfect angle for your head. "I also spoke to the doctor to make sure we follow all instructions properly so that you recover well."

Nodding in satisfaction, you closed your eyes for a moment, grateful for your sisters' care. Kara and Alex stayed close to you, making sure you were comfortable while you recovered. They chatted quietly as they moved around the apartment, doing their chores so as not to disturb you. Alex prepared a small station on the table, stocked with water, soup, and everything you needed so you did not have to move around much as your breathing deepened, feeling Kara and Alex's love surround you.

The loving looks your sisters gave you every now and then that you did not see, showed the deep determination to support you on your road to recovery. You felt safe and secure in her presence, letting yourself sink into the cozy atmosphere of home as you slowly drifted into dreamland. Time passed as Alex and Kara were done with everything and sat quietly next to you, careful not to wake you up as they carefully read the doctor's information sheet, planning how they could best care for you and how they could best take turns to make sure you were looked after around the clock.

[funeral]

Abandoned Danvers State Hospital, Massachusetts

[thewidowsghost]

Agent Danvers - Chapter 8

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Kara and Alex are sitting beside (Y/n)'s hospital bed.

(Y/n) was asleep, exhausted after the strain her body had just gone through.

There is a soft knock on the doorframe and the Danvers sisters turn, their gazes softening as Yelena and Melina push their heads in the door.

"Do you mind if we trade out?" Melina asks, her eyes glancing to the window before they dart back onto (Y/n)'s sleeping form. "You two should get some rest."

Both Alex and Kara nod. Alex leans over, pressing a kiss to her baby sister's forehead. Kara gives (Y/n)'s hand a squeeze before she and Alex leave (Y/n) with Yelena and Melina.

"I wish you'd wake up," Melina murmurs, taking (Y/n)'s hand and brushing her thumb across her late daughter's girlfriend's hand. Poor girl, Melina thinks, a tear trickling down her cheek. First Natasha, and now her baby.

. . .

A few months had passed, and the two concerned older sisters had convinced (Y/n) to take up a job at the DEO - totally not their way of keeping track of their youngest sister.

(Y/n)'s back hits the mat, and she just lies there for a moment, staring up at her eldest sister.

Alex smiles down at (Y/n), offering her a hand.

(Y/n) shakes her head, taking her sister's hand with a grin.

. . .

"This thing is like state of the state of the art," Winn says, leaning over the table, (Y/n) at his side. "Kind of looks like something my dad might have built in one of his more murdery moments."

(Y/n) glances at her best friend, her lips twitching slightly in a smile.

"I pulled a partial print from the wreckage," (Y/n) says, removing her gloves. "Belongs to John Corben. International assassin for hire. Been linked to Intergang, Kasnian terrorists, and the genocide in Corto Maltese." Jo'on, Alex, and Clark - Superman - all look at the screen while (Y/n) explains. "If you want somebody high-profile killed, this is the guy you hire."

"But who would want Lena Luthor dead?" J’oon asks.

"Hey, where's Kara?" Winn asks.

"She's trying to talk Lena out of going through with the renaming ceremony," Clark replies.

"Something tells me Miss Luthor will be going on with it either way," (Y/n) says with a frown.

"I'll have on the case. This Corben doesn't seem like he cares who gets hurt so long as he gets his target," J'oon says.

"Kara and I will be there, too," Clark says.

. . .

"My brother's serving thirty-two consecutive life sentences," Lena Luthor and Kara walk down the sidewalk. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised there isn't a bigger turnout."

"You're taking an awful risk," Kara says, looking over at Lena, "going ahead with the renaming ceremony with your life in danger."

"I won't have a life if I can't make this company into something positive," Lena replies. "All it will be remembered for is Lex's madness."

. . .

(Y/n) and Alex are standing on opposite sides of the stage, Kara standing at the back of the crowd.

"I want to thank you all for coming," Lena's voice booms through the speakers.

"I'm in the main plaza. No sign of Corben," (Y/n) murmurs into her COMMs.

"My brother hurt a lot of good, innocent people," Lena continues and (Y/n)'s gaze falls on the woman at the podium. "My family owes a debt, not just to Metropolis, but to everyone. I intend to pay that. By renaming my company L-Corp, we will usher in a new age of cooperation and community. Together, we will chart a brighter future."

An explosion rocks the ground, and blows up some of the building as well as the new L-Corp sign.

People scream as they run away from the fire and explosion.

(Y/n) catches sight of Corben walking down the street and follows. "I've got eyes on Corben," (Y/n) says into her COMMs.

"Officer, thank God," Lena says as Corben walks towards her.

Corben lifts his handgun to shoot Lena.

Lena falters, staking a step back.

(Y/n) grabs Corben's arm, lowering it so when he pulls the trigger, it shoots into the sidewalk.

Lena watches with wide eyes as (Y/n) flips over Corben's shoulder, pinning his arm against his back and ripping the handgun out of his hand and the gun hits the ground.

(Y/n) elbows Corben in the face and the man staggers back.

Corben sneaks up behind (Y/n), pulling her into a chokehold.

(Y/n) chokes, straining against the man. She lifts up her legs and rocks herself over, pinning Corben under her.

Corben throws (Y/n) off, and she hits the ground with a pained grown before rising unsteadily to her feet.

Corben pulls out a knife and lunges for (Y/n).

"You do not quit," (Y/n) mutters, dodging the knife and grabbing Corben's shoulder.

(Y/n) knocks Corben to the ground and he rolls, picking up his gun that had fallen to the ground.

Corben picks up the gun, pulling (Y/n) into another chokehold and pressing the gun to her chin.

Kara - now dressed as Supergirl - lands in front of the two. "Let her go," Kara says,

"You're gonna let me out of here," Corben says, moving the barrel of the gun to point at the side of (Y/n)'s head.

"Lex Luthor hired you to kill his sister, didn't he?" Kara asks, leaning forward a little.

(Y/n) struggles in Corben's arms.

"Luthor still has resources and reach," Corben replies, "even rotting in maximum security lockdown." (Y/n) shoots a fearful look at Kara and then at Alex, who had popped up behind Kara. "Now, I'm leaving and there's nothing you can do . . ."

The sound of a gun firing makes (Y/n) flinch violently, but Corben is the one to drop to the ground, dead.

Alex crouches over Corben, inspecting him. "Bullet went through-and-through. But he needs a hospital."

(Y/n) looks behind her, meeting the green eyes of Lena Luthor. (Y/n) swallows thickly, before glancing over at Alex, who had let her concerned gaze rest on (Y/n).

"Nice work, Supergirl," Alex says.

"I had help," Kara nods to Lena and then up to Clark hovering in the air above her.

. . .

Kara and Clark are standing in Lena's office, looking at a paper with the headline "A New Hope for L-Corp."

"Thank you, Mr. Kent," Lena gets up from her office chair and rounding the desk. "This is exactly the kind of press my company needs after yesterday's attack. And thank you for including that part about me shooting the guy. That'll teach Lex to mess with me." Kara and Clark chuckle. "He'll be the laughing stock of Cell Block X."

"Well, that's not exactly why I wrote it," Clark says with a slight smile. "I wrote it because it was the truth. I was wrong about you, Ms. Luthor." He gives her a nod. "I'm sorry."

Lena smiles to herself for a moment before looking up to meet Clark's eyes, "Well, if I can make a believer out of Clark Kent, there's hope yet."

Kara looks down at the ground.

"What about you, Ms. Danvers?" Lena questions, looking over at the blonde. "I didn't see your name on the byline."

"Uh . . ." Kara pauses. "Well, like I said, I'm not a reporter."

"You could have fooled me," Lena replies, studying Kara. Lena moves back around the desk to sit down. "I hope this isn't the last time we talk."

"I hope not either," Kara smiles.

. . .

"Welcome to the DEO, Mr. Schott," J’oon shakes Winn's hand.

"Thank you, Hank, or Director Henshaw. Or was it J'oon, or Martian Manhunter? What's the protocol here?" Winn questions.

(Y/n) smacks Winn gently on the back of the head.

"'Sir' will do just fine," J'oon replies, looking amused.

"Yes, sir, Hank. J’oon, no . . ." Winn says and (Y/n) grins.

"Congratulations, Winn," Kara smiles, dressed in her Supergirl suit.

"It's good to have you officially on the team," Alex approaches from the other side of the room.

"Oh, I was just wondering . . ." Winn says and (Y/n) has an idea what Winn is going ask about, "And this is not a deal-breaker whatsoever, but I had a pretty sweet IRA over at CatCo. Does that transfer over?"

(Y/n) laughs, clapping her best friend on the shoulder.

. . .

"You promised Kara you'd be nice to Clark while he was here," (Y/n) says, leaning against her and Winn's shared desk; Alex makes a grunt in agreement into her coffee.

"I said I would try," Jo'on replies.

"'Do or do not. There is no try'," Winn says and (Y/n) snickers.

"Exactly how bad did you want this job, Mr. Schott?" J’oon questions Winn.

"He'll be leaving town soon, I'm sure," Alex says, walking over to stand beside her boss. "So until then . . ."

(Y/n) sighs with exhaustion as she hears Supergirl whooping through the COMMs.

"I'll be in the armory shooting at something," J'oon says.

"That sounds relaxing," Winn says and (Y/n) giggles.

. . .

(Y/n) is throwing on her bulletproof vest, as she, Alex, and other DEO agents walk through the halls.

"Supergirl," Alex says in her angry sister voice and (Y/n) winces. "We haven't heard from you. We were just leaving to catch the Kigori."

"Oh, we just dropped that little guy in containment," Clark says, exchanging a smile with Kara.

"Yeah," Kara agrees with a grin.

There is an awkward silence and (Y/n) unzips her vest.

"Stand down, guys," Alex says, waving the other soldiers off.

"I'm sorry," Kara says. "Team Krypton was just having hashtag-too-much-fun," both Clark and Kara laugh. (Y/n) raises an eyebrow. "I mean, I've always loved being Supergirl. But today . . ."

"Next time, it would be nice if you followed protocol," Jo'on growls, "and alerted us that an alien combative was no longer a threat. Your cousin may not work for the DEO, but you still do."

Kara pauses. "Sorry," Kara says, shrugging. "We were . . . We were just having . . .

"Hashtag-too-much-fun. Yeah, we know." J’oon replies.

The whole building powers down and everyone looks around, their eyes wide with surprise.

"Uh, energy drain coming from the holding area," Winn appears behind (Y/n). "Again."

The agents, J’oon, Kara, and Clark walk into the holding area, observing the man inside. A green glow making all of them looking sickly pale.

"It started happening last night," (Y/n) tells the other, she - not wanting to return to her empty apartment - had stayed late with Winn to watch over the man recovering in the room.

"All energy resources at the DEO suddenly diverted to him," Alex says, her gaze questioning.

"You're exposing him to Kyrptonite?" Clark asks, turning to Jo'on, but Kara look at her youngest sister, who doesn't meet her gaze. "He's a survivor, not a prisoner."

"It's a precaution," J'oon replies. "We don't know anything about him."

There is a whirring sound and the lights in the patient's room flicker before the power comes back completely.

"Ooh, power is back at one-hundred percent," Winn says, checking his tablet.

"His vitals have jumped again," Alex says, peering over Winn's shoulder. "It's at the same rate as the power drain."

"He's repairing himself at a cellular level?" Clark asks.

"It's like photosynthesis," Alex says, moving to stand in front of the glass. "His cells are absorbing the electrical energy and converting them into chemical energy."

"You should test his levels again. Now that he's . . ." Clark begins but J'oon cuts him off.

"We've got this, Superman," Jo'on says, frowning at the Kryptonian.

"Sure you do," Clark replies, returning the Martian's frown. "I should go," he turns to his cousin.

Kara nods slightly and Clark walks away.

When the Kryptonian is out of earshot, Kara takes a step towards J'oon. "I know you aren't the best of friends, but you promised you'd be nice to him while he's here."

"Yeah, actually he said he would try," Winn says and (Y/n)'s lips twitch.

"How . . . How is it hard to be nice to Superman?" Kara asks, looking between her sisters, Winn, and J'oon. "He's Superman."

"If it means so much to you, we will get along," J'oon replies before he turns, walking out of the lab.

"Thank you," Kara replies. She sighs, and Winn follows his boss out of the room.

"We still on for sister night?" Alex asks her sisters and (Y/n) smiles. "Veep and Chinese?"

"Yeah. Of course," Kara replies.

"I can still bring Liho, right?" (Y/n) asks.

"Yes," Alex smiles.

"Do you know it's Clark's favorite show, too?" Kara asks brightly, looking up at Alex.

"Is Clark coming to sister night?" Alex asks, blinking with surprise.

"Yeah. I mean, he's in town," Kara says. "And he is family."

Alex scoffs, smiling at Kara. "The more the merrier."

(Y/n) doesn't know whether her thoughts are selfish or not, but she felt kind of upset that she wouldn't have her sisters to herself.

Word Count: 2178 words

Taglist:

@imapotatao

@confusinggemini612

@marrymemcgrath

@yeahthatsmelolz

@softballaikido916

@dopeyouth

@maria-403​

@babyfaberrylove27​

@unexpected-character​​

[catierambles]

Public Relations Ch.3

Pairing: Clark Kent/Superman x Charlotte Danvers (OFC)

WC 1184

Warnings: None

@kingliam2019 , @greensleeves888

lemme know if anyone else wants to be tagged

Clark stayed even after completing his interview with her and she ended up ordering them a late lunch, telling Melissa to order something for herself as well. They talked more in-depth about her charity work, having touched on her philanthropy in the interview. He stated early on that it would not be the hit piece that everyone else was writing and instead would focus on the positives about her. She was human, and a lapse in judgment did not make her a bad person. Charlotte was charming and funny, making him laugh several times as they talked and he found himself wanting to know even more about her.

Needing something to show for his extra time there, she gave him permission to talk to some of her immediate staff, telling him to let them know that she said it was okay to talk about her candidly and honestly. She needn't have worried. Everyone he talked to had nothing but glowing things to say about her. She was generous, both with her time if they needed it, and with their holiday bonuses. She encouraged people to work hard and only hired those who did the same as supervisors but encouraged them positively. If mistakes were made, a small informal meeting was called based on the severity and the problem was addressed honestly, with a solution formed on how to fix it and how to make sure it didn't happen again. She didn't punish people for honest mistakes, but she did expect people to own up to them when they were made. Tough, but fair, was the term he heard most often.

If an emergency arose that called for someone to take time off immediately, they were allowed to do so, no questions asked. Melissa had nearly cried when he spoke to her, telling him about the time her mother was sick and she needed to take care of her. Charlotte not only gave her the time off she needed but put in extra paid time off when it looked like she was going to go past her given PTO allotment. Then, she even went so far as to pay off the exorbitant hospital bills that had been racked up in full. They had been paid anonymously, but Melissa knew it was her, or at least heavily suspected it. Charlotte cared for those who worked for her directly, honestly, and earnestly.

When it came to her business dealings, Clark knew she had a bit of a reputation for being ruthless. She took no prisoners when it came to negotiations of contracts, either private or government. When new companies were acquired and absorbed into Danvers Incorporated, she kept anyone who wanted to stay at their current salary and gave those who wanted to leave generous severance packages as well as referrals and references to other companies. She didn't leave anyone destitute. Online reviews from employees working at the companies under the Danvers umbrella were very complimentary, most saying that it was one of, if not the best place they've ever worked.

At the end of the day, and he was done talking to people, Clark found himself admiring her. She was honestly one of the good ones, trying to make her own corner of the world a better place for herself and those in it.

"Productive day?" She asked as they sat back down on the couch and he nodded.

"Very." Clark said, "I learned a lot about you and your company. I think I've got a pretty good story here, something to drown out all those trying to drag you down."

"Well, however it turns out, I appreciate the effort." Charlotte said, giving him a small smile.

"Listen, I'm going to be busy the next few days getting this all organized," Clark said, "But after that, once the article is published, would you like to maybe…I don't know, grab lunch sometime? Or dinner?"

"Are you asking professionally or personally?" Charlotte asked, regarding him softly.

"Personally." Clark said and she gave him a gentle smile.

"I'd like that." She said, "How about dinner? Wherever you would like to go."

"My favorite haunts probably aren't as fancy as what you're used to, honestly." Clark said.

"Nothing wrong with pizza or good Chinese takeout." Charlotte said, "How about this? We exchange numbers and you send me a list of your favorite places and we'll go from there. I'm sure we'll be able to find something."

"Yeah, that sounds good." He said, "Sounds like a solid plan." They exchanged numbers and he sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I should probably get going. As much as I’ve enjoyed my time here, I have an article to organize. Thank you, Charlie.”

“No problem at all.” Charlotte said, “This was the most enjoyable one by far. Want me to walk you out?”

“I remember the way and I’ve taken up more than my allotted time.” Clark said and she stood as he did, watching him grab his overcoat that he had thrown over the arm of the couch and put it on, adjusting his glasses that he had put back on while talking with her staff.

“Hmm.” She said and he gave her a questioning look.

“What?”

“I should have my tailor reach out to you.” She said, “Get you into something more deserving of those shoulders.”

“I like my clothes, thank you.” He said with a smile, “Besides, I wear my suit underneath it and anything too…tailored would be too constrictive.”

“That’s gotta be warm in the summer.”

“Not really, actually. It’s amazingly breathable.”

“Where do you keep the cape?” She asked, “Is it like, jammed in there or something?”

“It’s detachable and folded up in my bag.” Clark said.

“Ever thought about going without it? It seems like a safety hazard.” She said, “Not to mention it would be quicker when switching personas if you don’t have to fiddle with it every time.”

“Not really. It’s kind of my maintained image.” He said and she shrugged with a small sound.

“Whatever works for you.” She said and grabbed the remote, turning the door and walls clear again before going to him, reaching out to hold his arms gently. “Clark Kent of the Daily Planet, it was wonderful speaking with you.”

“It was a pleasure speaking to you as well, Ms. Danvers.” Clark said, “I’ll let you know when the article is about to be released and send you that list.”

“Please do.” She said and he hesitated a moment before leaning in, pressing a light kiss to her cheek and catching the small, bashful smile on her face as he pulled away. Charlotte watched as he left her office, giving a farewell wave to Melissa as he went past and Melissa looked at her with a shrewd grin, tapping her cheek, letting her know she had seen his parting gesture. Charlotte made a zip-it gesture across her lips, and Melissa gave her a thumbs up, mouthing the word “Nice”. Charlotte just rolled her eyes with a smile, going back to sitting behind her desk and diving back into work and emails.

[demcnsinmymind]

cult members and NPC infos for mobile, long so behind a cut as always

Cult stuff and possession nav

Possession timeline and lore for mobile Azathoth info and traits for mobile Azathoth powers for mobile

Cult members and NPC info

Dr. Arthur Friedkin

Leader of the cult of Azathoth, 1940s *01/05/1900- +08/16/1948

"Dr Arthur Friedkin was a Harvard graduate neurologist who was Collingwood's head physician from 1937 to 1948. He was famous for his work in experimental brain surgery. He was a major advocate of prefrontal lobotomy. Under Friedkin's supervision, there were about 140 lobotomies." - Morgan Turner, March 2003

Born in the year 1900, Arthur Friedkin grew up in a world all too familiar with death and suffering. Losing his father in the first world war and his mother to the influenza pandemic of 1918, the young Bostonian wanted to get answers just like anybody else in that time period. All thanks to the US' spiritualism craze around 1920, he became fascinated by the occult. Seances, spirit boards and spirit photography were an exciting opportunity and distraction from all that death.

The birth of his son Sean Everett Friedkin in the year 1921 marked a happier period in his life, and his acceptance into Harvard and a detailed dive into the world of neurology turned Friedkin away from the occult at least for a little while. Nevertheless, he remained an avid reader of works of fiction similiar to Edgar Allan Poe and H.P. Lovecraft, whose focus on cosmicism and scientific horror fascinated him especially. And even though he was a doting father and seemingly a 'family man' through and through, Friedkin's general misantrophy and generally cold and methodic approach in his field were somewhat infamous.

Friedkin moved to Maryland in 1933 and worked as Neurologist at Danver's State Hospital. When his wife became pregnant with their fifth child, they decided to leave the city and move into a spacious subburbian mansion in Ryerson Valley, a quiet little town known for its gigantic psychiatric hospital. Friedkin became part of Collingwood's medical staff in 1935 and was subsequently appointed head physician in 1937.

Since the state's focus was primarily set on Danver's State Hospital, being in charge of Collingwood allowed the neurologist, who was much younger than most his peers, to start experimenting with new and questionable procedures on the surplus of patients his hospital provided.

After the loss of his son, Friedkin founded the cult of Azathoth within the walls of his hospital and began experimenting with the idea of disrupting the veil between the real world and the spirit world. See more details for that in my detailed possession timeline.

On August 16th, 1948 six patients broke out of their room, freed more of their fellow inmates and wrecked havoc inside Collingwood Psychiatric Hospital. In the chaos, Arthur Friedkin was killed by one of the patients, Lance Preston.

The Cult

Friedkin's nursing staff, 1940s

Death, as fate would have it, would never stay far away from Arthur Friedkin, this time with a twist of irony. At the age of just 21, his first born son Sean was drafted into the US military to fight in World War II. The horrors he witnessed during that time left the sensible young man shell-shocked and damaged beyond repair. Severe PTSD, depression and psychosis were taking their toll on his mind, and despite having learned so much from his father in the field of psychology and even wanting to become a neurologist himself after the war, all hope was lost.(keep scrolling)

Sean Everett Friedkin committed suicide just three years into his military service abroad. Running straight into enemy territory and getting torn apart by heavy artillery fire, leaving his father without a body to bury, without closure, without answers, and utterly devastated. With his belief in the ability to cure mental illness shattered, and succumbing to madness himself, Friedkin once again turned to occultism to search for a solution to destroy the monster that was insanity and death once and for all.

Due to the horrors of world war II and many men lost to the battlefields abroad or on their own soil, it was not hard for the charismatic neurosurgeon to find like-minded souls within his own staff. Nurses and orderlies alike had lost loved ones and family as well and were desperate to see them return. Ever surrounded by the madness of an overcrowded insane asylum, with many patients dumped and forgotten in their care, Friedkin soon decided to combine pseudo-science with his occult beliefs. Delusions of grandeur dictated that together with new surgical treatments for the insane, they could not only cure insanity, but death itself.

Their God

Azathoth and Nyarlathotep ∞

"Outside the ordered universe is that amorphous blight of nethermost confusion which blasphemes and bubbles at the center of all infinity, the boundless demon sultan Azathoth whose name no lips dare speak aloud and who gnaws hungrily in inconceivable unlighted chambers beyond time and space, amidst the muffled maddening beating of vile drums.”

A man of science from an early age, Friedkin never believed in any conventional gods or common religions such as Christianity. Instead, he became obsessed with the Cosmic horrors described in H.P. Lovecraft's works, the most powerful Outer Gods in particular. Ever linked to psychology and insanity, Friedkin took a special interest in the likes of Azathoth and its offspring Nyarlathotep. Even seeing himself as the human embodiment of 'The Cold One', and his deceased first born as the reincarnation of 'The Crawling Chaos'.

Azathoth, known as 'The Blind Idiot God', 'Nuclear Chaos' or 'Demon Sultan' is a supreme omnipotent being. It is a significant malign presence in the Necronomicon as both Albert Wilmarth (HPL: "The Whisperer in Darkness") and Walter Gilman (HPL: "The Dreams in the Witch House") are horrified at the mere mention of its name having both read about it in the occult tome.

There is no definite description of Azathoth because everybody envisions it differently and it is always changing. According to some accounts, it is a huge sentient black hole. Among its many followers, "obscene rites" were often performed that involved "atrocities practiced on still-living victims".

Nyarlathotep, known as 'The Crawling Chaos' is a supreme omnipotent being as well, a direct offspring of Azathoth's. He differs from the other deities in the Lovecraft's Mythos in a number of ways. Most of the Outer Gods, like his father Azathoth, are exiled to the stars, Nyarlathotep, however, is active and frequently walks the Earth in the guise of a human being, usually a tall, slim, joyous man. He has "a thousand" other forms and manifestations, many reputed to be quite horrific and sanity-blasting.

Most Outer Gods use strange alien languages, while Nyarlathotep uses human languages and can easily pass for a human being if he chooses to do so. Finally, most of them are all-powerful yet evidently without clear purpose or agenda, yet Nyarlathotep seems to be deliberately deceptive and manipulative, and even uses propaganda to achieve his goals.

Unlike the other Outer Gods, spreading madness is more important and enjoyable than death and destruction to Nyarlathotep. It is suggested by some that he will destroy the human race and possibly the earth as well.

Brenda Peterson

Head nurse and member of the cult of Azathoth, 1940s *10/28/1905 - +08/16/1948

Brenda Peterson was born in Baltimore in 1902. The eldest of 9 daughters, Brenda faced the brute force and hatred of her father from an early age. A failed physician with an alcohol problem. Throughout the remainder of his failed life and with their family left in poverty, Brenda's father pushed hard for her to make it into the medical field, knowing that even though his daughter would never become a successful doctor herself, nurses and other medical staff were well sought after during the first world war.

Life in poverty as well as the ongoing abuse from her father rendered Brenda a bitter, violent woman with a sadistic streak. Feared among the patients she looked after and her peers alike, Brenda's steely attitude and work ethic made it possible for her to become head nurse at Collingwood Psychiatric hospital in 1941.

It was there that she began idolizing Dr. Arthur Friedkin, who represented everything her father failed to achieve in his life. Infatuated, almost obsessed with Friedkin, she soon clung to his every method and teachings, and was the first to join his cult when he founded it. It was her who provided Friedkin with sufficient input on which patient to chose for the next experiment and ritual, and she was also the one to admister sedatives to get their patients where they were needed. Covering their tracks by falsifying patient records and only having members of their cult on the clock whenever a ritual was supposed to take place.

Brenda became so convinced of what they were doing was right and the only way for their world to make it past the 40s, that she too involved her children in Friedkin's teachings and cult from a very early age, leaving the path wide open for future generations of said cult to come.

Brenda was the only other cult member killed along with Friedkin on August 16th, leaving behind her 21 year old son Emmett and her 18 year old daughter Jennifer. With the former continuing on the rites, rituals and beliefs of their cult despite Friedkin's passing.

Andromeda Peterson

Leader of the cult of Azathoth, 2000s *08/07/1983

Andromeda Peterson is the great-granddaughter of Brenda Peterson. Her grandfather, Emmett, went on to pass along Friedkin's teachings of the cult of Azathoth to his children, and with his entire circle of friends consisting of members of the cult, it came as no surprise that Andromeda, too, would come to believe that the veil between the real world and the spirit world ought to be broken, that chaos and a complete reset of everything that is known and conceivable is the only way for humanity to surpass its misery and death itself.

Coming from a long line of psychiatric nurses, she happens to work not just at Danvers Psychiatric hospital by the time she's 24 years old, but she is also the head of the CPH (short for Collingwood Psychiatric Hospital) historical society. A new, far more inconspicuous name for a cult that is still active and waiting for their most promising experiment and subject to turn back up in their current timeline - Lance Preston, who brought about the death of their original cult leader as well as Andromeda's great-grandmother all the way back in 1948.

With her father's passing in 2015 Andromeda has only just become the new leader of the cult of Azathoth, and just like Brenda, she's a fiercely loyal, cold and sadistic individual who will stop at nothing to unleash their god and teachings upon the world.

By 2016, it seems that her ideals are well on their way of becoming real, when Lance Preston turns back up in their timeline and is brought to her hospital, where she's more than eager to interview him in the name of the CPHHS. Lance is quick to catch on to her and the cult though and runs, leaving Andromeda and the members of her cult no choice but to try and follow him wherever he goes. Eager to catch and kill him so that his body can be fully taken over by their deity.

Matthew Sinclair

Member of the cult of Azathoth, 2000s *11/30/1986

Matthew Sinclair is another member of the cult of Azathoth and Andromeda's right hand man. Born in 1986 in upstate New York into a rich family of investment bankers, Matthew never felt quite at home where he was. By the time he was 17 years old he ran away from home, and spent the next five years on the road travelling all over the states in order to find himself.

By 2008 he ended up in Baltimore, Maryland, where he crossed paths with Andromeda Peterson and quickly became infatuated with her. Andromeda, a gay woman with no interest in men whatsoever, still saw a chance in using Matthew's infatuation for her own purposes. Promising him a place to stay and a way inside a career he's always wanted, but could never pursue to his lack of credentials and medical training.

Matthew always saw his parents as heartless bloodsuckers without a purpose, and always wanted to help people as a doctor - a career choice they heavily objected, and which ultimately forced him to run away in the first place. Andromeda's family as well as the CPHHS made almost all of his dreams come true the second he walked into their open arms though - providing him with a job at Baltimore Psychiatric Hospital as a janitor, with the prospect of making his way into a nursing position by 2014.

With his ongoing love for Andromeda, the Peterson family paying his rent and having the last say in his employment, Matthew is at the complete mercy of the cult and easily susceptible to its expert brainwashing methods. He soon follows their teachings and beliefs to a T as well, and will stop at nothing to make Andromeda happy.

When Lance Preston turns back up in 2016 Matthew catches glimpse of him and becomes a fullblown believer, convinced that everything the cult and Andromeda have been saying to him about their origins is true and worth pursuing. When Lance flees Baltimore in an attempt to get away from the cult, Andromeda sends Matthew after his known family in Washington and California, where he tries to worm his way into their lives so that the CPHHS has leverage against their most valuable asset yet.

Police Captain Malcom Hodge

Police detective for Baltimore PD, 2000s *03/03/1962

Captain Malcom Hodge was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland. Incredibly involved in his community from a young age, Malcom first wanted to become a fireman, but changed his mind after witnessing severe misdeeds in the local police force and crime scene. Determined to make his hometown a safer, juster place, he pursued a career in law enforcement. Starting out as Valedictorian for his academy, Malcom was quick to climb the ladder, working his way up to Police Captain.

Him and his team have been building a case against the Peterson family for several years now, and as a former Ryerson Valley local, has had a very personal interest in the disappearances of the Grave Encounters crew for the past 13 years as well. With Lance having turned up in his city again and killing a member of the nursing staff at Danver’s Psychiatric Hospital in Baltimore, Hodge and his force are actively trying to recapture him, so they can solve not just the current murder, but the Ryerson Valley cold cases as well.

Unlike his RCMP counterparts, Hodge has a thorough and levelheaded work ethic and believes in uncovering the unfiltered truth, whatever it may be. Whether that ends with him putting Lance behind bars or putting an end to decades of debauchery and torture at the hands of the cult of Azathoth is left to be discovered.

Kiara Evelyn Miller

The only remaining family *12/10/1987

See thatevester for more detailed infos on her, as well as threads I'm writing for her.

Kiara is Lance's only biological daughter and the accidental result of a onenight stand he had during his first semester at film school. For the first 28 years of her life, Kiara has had no contact with Lance whatsoever.

Born on December 10th 1986 in Santa Barbara, California, Kiara was raised by her doting mother and adoptive father, and only learned about her heritage on her 16th birthday. By the year 2003, Lance promised he'd meet her at least once, but a month before that could ever happen, he vanished off the face of the earth for the next 13 years. Kiara spent her teens and early 20s troubled by severe problems with self worth, and more details about her can be read in her blog bio if interested.

In 2016, she was the first person Lance came back to, hoping to deliver on the promise he made all the way back in 2003. With his mother suffering from severe dementia and having placed in a nursing home, Kiara is pretty much the only family Lance has left, and the years inside Collingwood after losing all of his friends have taught him to appreciate that a lot more.

His choice to come to her has put her in the crossfire though, and it doesn't take long for both Azathoth as well as its cult to show an immense interest in her, hoping to use her as leverage against her father. Kiara in return is just as eager to find out the truth about his disappearance, and soon digs deeper into the circumstances surrounding Lance, Collingwood, as well as Friedkin and what remains of his cult.

Hayley Anne Miller, nee Thompson

The teenage trouble *07/19/1969 - +12/15/2016 (verse dependent)

Hayley Anne Miller was born as Hayley Anne Thompson on July 19th, 1969 in Santa Barbara, California. From a very young age, she developed an interest in all things photography and film. By the time she was 18 years old, she was more than happy to begin film school at UCLA-TFT, where she met Lance Preston, a fellow film enthusiast and student.

While Lance could be considered an overachiever, stockpiling sports trophies and top grades in all their classes as the years went by, Hayley was more of a free spirit, out to meet as many creative and interesting people as possible.

It was spring 1987 when Hayley took an interest in the infamous guy that was top of her class, sitting somewhere in the shadows on campus, writing, planning, alone and constantly busy. A snapped candid photo of the person of interest soon turned into casual conversation, and the Santa Barbara native was determined to make the broody Washington film nerd her next muse and project for the summer. Ever the collector of interesting stories, faces, people.

While the desired friendship between them never really hit it off because Lance was much more interested in his studies and projects, friendly 'hi's and 'how's your latest project doing' still turned into the occassional meet up for coffee, and Hayley, as stubborn as ever, was determined to turn him into someone to her liking. Knowing that much more might linger beneath if only she pushed him in the right direction. After weeks of nudging, she eventually managed to drag Lance to a frat party on campus, where she proceeded to get him drunk, high, and focused on something other than his projects for once. Minutes of drinking and talking turned into hours, one bottle of beer and a shot of whiskey turned into two, three, four, and by midnight, all was said and done.

The endeavour resulted in an accidentental pregnancy. After much consideration and despite their young age of 19 and 18 respectively, Hayley chose to keep the unborn girl that would soon become one Kiara Evelyn Miller. She quit her studies by spring break and left UCLA to live with her childhood sweetheart back in Santa Barbara.

Lance never bothered to question or challenge her decision. Instead, he gladly accepted her proposal to have the other man named as the father just before she left, because he considered family life an unnecessary bump in the road to his filmmaking career. Parting on mutual and respectful terms, Hayley left for Santa Barbara while Lance focused back on his studies. He graduated from UCLA with honors, scoring several internships and freelance jobs as a cameraman and screenwriter. It was the last time either of them would see each other for the next 28 years.

In early 2016, Hayley filed for divorce from Kiara's adoptive father when she found out that he was cheating on her with a much younger woman. Spending a couple of months griefing the loss of her marriage as well as worrying about her daughter's mental health. It was in late November of the same year when things seemed to be looking up for her, because a young man by the name of Matthew Sinclair started courting her at her local café.

Hayley, flawed and still hurt from her divorce, flees into an affair with the man, not knowing that he's only come to California to keep an eye on her and her daughter - hoping to catch glimpse of her long lost one night stand. It doesn't take long, because only a couple of weeks later, Hayley receives a call from her daughter, who lets her know that her elusive biological father has turned right back up on her doorstep. Naturally, Hayley is more than eager to come right over to L.A. - unknowingly leading Matthew and thus the CPHHS right back to Lance.

Depending on the verse and timeline, Hayley ends up in the crossfire and gets killed by Matthew and the cult (or Klaus Mikaelson in my TO verse with @sanguinelupus)

.

[theevangelion]

Soulmates: Chapter XXX

(Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29)

The room was dark. Cat awoke to a dry throat, balm on her lips, and some faint surprise that she had awoken at all. The sense of surprise was incremental like a bruise in her conscience that pressed and announced the state of things; an ending meandering towards itself in its own good time.

It was coming undone now.

It was the hard to ignore feeling that Kara had brought her home here in dribbles over the months, by the canvas tote bag, until the hospital became somewhat hybrid because...there wasn’t a home to go back to at the end of this.

Silk pyjamas, curled on her side most days with little movement, in a different bed than her original room, Cat still had zero regrets—plenty of complaints. Not the change of scenery. This room was bigger and much more comfortable with real pillows and comforters that smelled like home, stayed smelling like home, vanilla and old books and a touch of essence, Kara laundered them with the right things—in just the right ways—despite it never being asked, not once.

The view beyond this window was better. Cat didn’t know it was possible. It looked over the lower side, at just the right angle, so she could see her building sprouting tall in the distance like a solitude creature in the skyline; her radiant, proud, towering life’s work.

In the world of treatment, timeframes and ordinate doctors, it was never a good sign when they pulled out stops. They ceased with incessant disapproval about the champagne; no side glances to the empty ice bucket, then the two giggling grown-ups indiscreetly discrete about it, with water marks on top of the ugly, dinged steel cabinet that had been hidden away beneath a patterned silk kimono to make it somewhat less ghastly. The doctors said nothing anymore. Things had gotten bad, all the paths ahead leading nowhere but champagne.

Cat saw it all for what it was and she did not mind.

The dog on sore knees and silver whiskers always found its good fortunes when the six cheeseburgers arrived for dinner after a long day of good, lovely things; Cat took the champagne, every drop, until her hands struggled somewhat, and then Kara proved most useful for that too.

Kara seemed to mind a great deal despite saying she didn’t mind at all.

Her refusal to leave seemed quite indicative. Against the adjacent wall there was a camping cot. Cat squinted and saw the huddled shape of a Kara-sized lump. Moonlight struck a distinct, bolting sheen of light through the cracked blinds. It fell across the blonde hair on the pillow as Kara laid turned to the wall. Cat saw the sleeping cot when she was awake in sporadic jaunts through the day, a distinct wrinkle in the made-up blankets, yet she had never seen Kara sleep much—if ever—at all.

Cat smiled and sincerely hoped that even through the hard times there were still lovely dreams for the foolish, optimistic, loyal Kara Danvers of the world. The girls who, despite crippling anxiety, run from their doldrum lives while shaking in their boots for what is waiting at the finish line. The ones with good hearts who say horrible things anyway. The people who, without merit or reward, stick it out until the very end.

She closed her eyes. Tiredness came with immediacy despite the good long sleep, which wasn’t anything new anymore. Laying there, she became aware of her body—the proximate parts of her skin. Her face. Her hands. Her lips. It was a comfort that Cat hadn't expected for the last stretch of her days, back when the news arrived last year, her mind immediately wandering, there while they talked prognosis, simultaneously not there, running through all sorts of sad notions.

This had never been considered. The clean, balmy tack of solid deodorant under her arms. Her face clean and moisturised—the full Korean programme—cleansed, swiped with toner, then serum and ampule, moisturised, then moisturised some more. She could tell from the slipperiness of the silk pants on her shins that her legs had been shaved too, which was silly, almost obsessive, and she rolled her eyes because it felt too much. Then it didn't feel silly. Cat sat with her thoughts, for the briefest moment, then hurried her mind elsewhere.

It got her throat a little tight otherwise.

Kara took it seriously.

Cat didn't need to ask some underpaid stranger to help her use the bathroom, that was the main thing, that had been the big fear. There was preservation to her dignity. A procedural silliness to it. Kara carrying her some days, dipping around the room, supporting her waist on others, joking about conga lines, but always hanging by the door for just a moment too long with something in her eyes.

“Yeah?” Cat glared the first time.

“Sometimes it takes looking at just the right woman, on just the right commode, to realise you do have a pee fetish after all—”

“Do you say that to all the girls?”

“Oh just the ones who get my name off their skin with a Bic lighter and some sense of determination for a better life. Shout if you need anything.” Kara always left it right there, on the line, precisely between silliness and respect.

The spritz of perfume. The little mirror set-up on the bed tray so she could check her lipstick. Things were coming undone, rapid and quickening. Catherine still felt entirely her own creature. She felt respected. She felt like a woman. She felt beautiful, human, and as though her life still had some good moments ahead too.

It wasn’t anything new.

Kara was consistent.

Cat closed her eyes and took herself for a brief waltz. She never used to sleep easy. She slept in this rare, sporadic and fraught way that dictated her understanding of how assistants should model themselves. Cat slept much easier now. It came to her as a form of escape; a prolonged dream of warm days, that she could pick up and put down, consistent and reliable; the mid-eighties, the first sports car she ever purchased—a boxy little thing with head lamps that came up mechanically from the hood when the engine started—and taut, tight twenty-something year old eyes in the rear-view mirror.

Good skin, great hair, and a silk navy blouse without tags in the collar anymore.

Her memories were worth reliving. The initial success of the magazine had brought a wave of correctness to her young, youthful life; there would be no more returns, no more tags, not ever, Catherine always knew what she wanted, always stood by it.

Plus it felt good spending money.

In her dreams it all came back to her, the early days, when money was a new thing and her attitude towards it was young, gauche and cavalier. Her life had gone from some humdrum, boring, cycling food menus back-and-forth to afford a Vanity Fair; into everything Catherine had ever dreamed overnight, with immediacy, all in the blink of an eye. Thirteen with ladylike ideas of herself one moment, twenty-three and put-together the next.

In her mid-twenties she lived very fine. A demitasse with her coffee in the morning. A caviar spoon—carved from precious mother of pearl with her name engraved along the handle—that coincidentally proved to be just the right size for a less than conservative blast of cocaine.

Catherine Grant never did think much of caviar.

In her dream, Cat dipped into an enormous bump with the Tiffany’s spoon, true to the old days as it had all once been, back when it was a procedural and professional thing to do; she drove, with the top down, men in suits with blowing ties in the passenger seats talking numbers for a local news network that she wanted to purchase.

It was the delicious, perfectly precise moment right at the very start of the CatCo expansion.

Cat rubbed her nose and didn’t care, not particularly knowing much about the mechanics of the business or what she was getting herself into, simply giddy and away with it all. It was a smash and grab way of living; an economic boom that had arrived precisely the same time she did, with skyscrapers sprouting up, stock prices up-ticking, Duran Duran and Pet Shop Boys, and it felt good to remember.

She wondered if that was what people had meant when they said life flashes before one’s eyes at the end. The best parts, the things that were worth remembering, they had come back to her in a loud, bright, and colourfully trumpeting hello; there were no hospice-shaped goodbyes, not in her nineteen-eighties.

Cat had never told Kara the majority of these things for her story spread. She regretted withholding some of the details. On some level, the messy things; the candour, the ruthless and cut-throat bad things she had done too would have made a much more exciting read.

One Kara wouldn't have enjoyed learning about.

Cat kept things abridged for the sake of her own image. Maybe just a bit to protect the little fool too—her little fool—who had come to believe in fairies and giants, and that Catherine Grant was somehow both of these things.

“Kara?” Cat murmured with her eyes still closed—aware time had moved.

“Mhm. I’m here. Are you ready for something to eat?”

There was a distinct pressure on her bed as though someone had sat down. Then a shift in weight, legs pulling up, until Cat felt someone laying beside her. She opened her eyes. It was daytime, bright and warm, Kara laying there in clean clothes and damp hair and a cheek settled against Cat’s ribs.

“I’m not hungry just yet.” Cat observed the distinct, persistent lack of hunger or thirst as a symptom of progress. “Is there a reason you’re laying all over me like some sort of remedial, drooling and rather overly personable puppy?”

“Because it’s a small bed and the best view of the television. Lena has a live broadcast interview airing this morning.” Kara nudged her to look at the photographs and exposition on screen, glancing up with the most tender and excited blue eyes. “I took her for lunch yesterday. She was so nervous about it but we practiced, and I think.” She didn’t seem so confidant. “Well. You know. I think…she’ll do great.”

“That bad, huh?”

“She forgot her name.”

“Ha!” Cat’s chest hurt from the push of her lungs. “She is terrible in front of cameras. The worst social anxiety. Enjoy the rest of your forever, kiddo.”

“Hush,” Kara said, the silly mood detectable, slinging an arm over Cat’s waist absentmindedly. “I still love that boy, Daddy, think I might just go ahead and be his wife one day.” She joked and parroted the hammy, transatlantic accent in all of the old classic films she had been forced to watch over the last few weeks.

“Alright. You don’t like Turner Classic Movies. We can watch other things if you’re going to be fucking petulant.”

“Not true.” Kara gawked, her brow furrowing. “Why do you think I put them on?”

Cat smiled, not saying anything, trying very hard not to think too much about anything, just watching the television as it all went by, and the interview carried alright enough.

Lena remembered her name.

Surprisingly, she even remembered Kara’s too.

Now the world knew Lena Luthor had found love again and Kara Danvers, soon to be Luthor, would be wearing white in the spring.

“What colour do you think I should wear for your wedding?” Cat felt a certain sudden possession on her soul. Aware she wasn’t going to make the day, just not quite ready yet. “I think floral, maybe something with a little colour?” she whispered.

Kara didn’t say anything for a moment, she laid there, cheek to her ribs, arm slung like a seat belt, thinking about it or holding in her tears, but Cat had grown somewhat expert in not thinking about things, and so she didn’t think about it.

“Navy blue,” Kara quietly replied, an absolute certainty in the rasp of her voice. “You should wear that navy silk blouse, and the matching-coloured pants. I would like that. Will you sit close to the front?”

The smoke struck and the sting grew tense.

“Well, I am Catherine Grant”—she said the line often, it was different this time, meant something very different altogether—“I should be as close to the front as possible.”

It was Kara who cried first, which felt more of a surprise than it should have been. Cat had not seen any tears, for months, for this whole thing, not since the argument on the doorstep.

It had been a good thing.

Cat didn’t like mess.

Yet there Kara finally was, a little contained mess, and Cat felt a warmth flood her heart at the sight of these little stinging tears and the corner of her blanket suddenly repurposed as a hanky.

“It’s okay.” The whimpers on her ribs huffed in breaths that tickled. “We’re going to have so much fun at your wedding. You’ll see. But, you know, I don’t think I’ll be drinking on the day.” Cat wasn’t very good at joking but she kept her tone as bouncy and light as she could. “Will you have two glasses when they get you dressed in the morning? One for you, one for me?”

“You’re the meanest woman I ever met and I want you there on my wedding day.” Kara grabbed a slender wrist and brought it around herself. Cat didn’t know what to do, but she allowed herself to be turned into a seat belt, quite determined to keep the little girl safe for now. “It’s supposed to be you and me. On my wedding day. And I…” Cat grew tense. “I’m getting dressed in the morning and I don’t know what to do, what shoes to wear, feeling ugly and awkward, because I always feel ugly and awkward. But you would be there. You would do the thing you do.”

“The thing I do?”

Kara inhaled and seemed to decide if she couldn’t have the real thing, they would just have to make a wedding day, here and now; put it in her heart and tuck it away for later.

“You grab my shoulders and do the awful mean thing you do with words—but in the Catherine Grant way—that puts everything into perspective.” Kara nuzzled with the saddest smile one woman could possess. “And we look in the mirror together at my wedding dress. It’s not me and my mom. Or, me and my sister. It’s supposed to be you and me—” The tears marched in and they didn’t stop this time. “And I get to see myself different because you fixed whatever thing I didn’t realise needed fixing, something only you could fix, and suddenly I get to feel beautiful and attractive and put-together and ready for it all, like I can go and marry Lena Luthor, because you are there.”

Cat nodded and smiled.

“It’ll be your glasses and your earrings.” Cat moved some hair off her face with gentle fingers. “Take your glasses off and make sure your earrings match either the bouquet or your eyes. And, in God’s name, whatever you do please don’t release doves. It’s tacky and gross—”

“You’re the most hateful person I know.”

“You’re the most irritating, foolish and blindly-optimistic woman I have ever had the displeasure of tolerating an elevator ride with much less the final months of my life.” Cat rolled her eyes, then dramatically softened her tone. “And I want to be there on your wedding day too, Kara, very much, so for now I’m saying that I am going to be there.”

“You’re going to be there.” Kara understood what was being asked of her. “Cat?”

“Mhm.”

“I figured it out—by the way.”

“The thing you said you had originally figured out for your article?”

“Mhm.” Kara nodded. “The thing I was trying to…capture.”

“My forties?”

“Your scar.”

“No.” Cat felt angry. “We agreed. I understand it’s your story too. I understand it’s a big request—but it’s one you agreed too. I do not want reporters making insinuations or asking Lena for the rest of her life whether there was a rift between us after she proposed to ‘my soulmate’ while I was dying of cancer. Does that sound like a fluffy, nice portrait piece for either of you?”

“Cat.” Kara pushed up on her arms. Cat glanced, noticed the tautness, the biceps, the blonde hair sitting crooked in her blue eyes. “You said you didn’t want an obituary and I don’t want to write it. You were right, with what you said, and I want to put that perspective in the story. Most of all because I am selfish and it…keeps you alive, forever, beyond always.”

“I’m always right, be specific.”

“Soulmates.” Kara had this emphatic look in her eyes. “It’s bullshit. It’s…” Kara paused. “I think it’s not the universe designing perfect marriages. You could have more than one perfect marriage, or more than one great love. Look at Lena. I met other people too. I even met a woman once who loved two boys, both called Harry, and I think she preferred the wrong one more.” Kara’s eyes flickered and brought thoughts together into words.

Cat grinned too big for her cheeks.

“Two boys called Harry?”

“The first one tattooed her name on his arm just so she would talk to him,” Kara whispered, astounded and romanticising new things. “Isn’t that the most beautiful little thing you ever heard?”

“Maybe.” Cat nodded. “So, hurry it along. If it’s not romance—then what?”

A slow smile, a deep inhale, the optimist blinked slowly and looked like a scared little girl who needed to believe her own dreamy outlook.

“I think it’s a buddy-system.” Kara propped her chin on her hand and stared off. “I think we come from star dust, on some great adventure, some big school bus trip down to earth, and that’s your person—your unconditional person—on your birthmark.” Kara adjusted her weight, lifted the hem of her shirt and trailed a finger over something that had once been important. “It’s not romance. It’s not even love sometimes. It’s the person who understands how to care for you in the right ways in the exact moment you need it. And you, ballsy and knowing everything, decided you weren't in the business of taking care of people.” Her expression exaggerated as though it were enough explanation.

It wasn’t.

Cat didn’t understand Kara’s point.

“Sorry if it still gives you a boo-boo in your feelings?”

“It doesn’t.” Kara scoffed, impressed by it this time. “You were only nineteen years old, and you knew, despite all of human history and the entire world insisting you...force yourself into the idea of marriage?” Kara smiled. “In your very Catherine Grant way—you set your eyes on bigger things. You did it all for yourself. You were selfish, and you were better off for it, you had the biggest life and chased all your dreams. I think…” Kara inhaled. “I think people should fall in love more, with different people, different things, for different reasons at different points in their life. Not just take the safe bet or the road mapped out for them. I think you are my buddy-up person. I think I’m yours. We found each other to take care of right when we both needed a little help, and that?” There was a forced calmness in her tight throat. “That is a happy ending, it's our happy ending, because nobody in my life has ever got it quite so right as helping me grow the way you have, Catherine.”

Cat didn’t say anything.

It struck her funny.

It struck her right in the heart.

“You sound like you have found your story.” Cat pushed a smile. “I don’t think I was ever wife material. I think, probably, I made a much better…” She sighed and didn’t know what to say. “I liked listening to your perspective, but I don’t think I’m much of a buddy either.”

“Just my person then.” Kara patted her hand, teeth on the rim of her lip as she staved off the tears. “A person I probably would have married if I had been born thirty-years earlier.” She tilted her head and left it at that.

“Mhm. Well, let’s just get you to the alter of your actual wedding.”

“She is going to be quite the bride,” Kara grinned.

“Kara?”

“Mhm.”

Here it was, Cat realised.

“You’ll be a good girl won’t you?”

“For Lena?” Kara softened. “I’ll eat healthy and take care of myself just so I outlive her, yeah. I think she’s earned that much.”

“No, no.” Cat shook her head and—for the first time in her life—felt stupid. “Just, in general. You’ll be a good girl, and find all those different things to fall in love with, and never lose your optimism and keep trying to do good things for people?”

“Like you do?” Kara gave her the sarcastic look.

“Fuck off.”

“Mhm.” Kara smiled sweetly and pecked the back of Cat’s hand with a chaste kiss. “Will you be a good girl? You’ll get home safe—wherever it is we’re all going in the end. Tell everyone I said hello?”

“Good girl? I’m fifty.”

“Still a pretty little girl to me.” Kara was not joking and her expression said as much too.

That did it.

Cat felt those words puncture through her soul.

“Thank you.” Cat stroked Kara’s hair. “Really. For everything, for coming around, but for that too. I can’t even remember the last time somebody dared to speak to me like that.”

“Well, you are a pretty little girl,” Kara murmured as she settled a cheek back on her belly. “You should consider yourself lucky. If I had been born thirty years earlier? Your life would have looked a lot different. I could have married a pretty little girl like that.”

“Nah,” Cat said with a shake of her head. “I'm selfish, Kara, not made for taking care of others—never was made that way.”

[dlyarchitecture]

[paperclipboy]

Sososo!! Hi tumblr I’m Paperclip and I do silly things on the internet >:)

Uhhhh,,, some stuff about me lol:

I’m a minor

I write/rp/draw my ocs a lot

I want to be a psychiatrist or architect

I love dark academia, retro, vintage, and liminal spaces/weirdcore

My favourite topic is Danvers State Hospital, if you ask me about it I’m sorry for your brain

[cardcaptorsakura96]

A Christmas Miracle-Chapter 1

Fandom: Supergirl

Characters: Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers, Ruby Arias, Santa Claus, Streaky the cat

Summary: After her last two breakups, Lena doesn't think there is love out there for her. However, will Ruby's wish to Santa make Lena a believer in miracles?

Lena stood in line scrolling throw her email on her phone. She sighed because she had finished all of her work emails and was bored out of her mind. She looked down next to her and saw her six-year-old niece Ruby still jumping up and down full of energy. They have been waiting in line for over an hour to see Santa. She was honestly surprised that she had this level of enthusiasm. When she was her age, she would have thrown a fit. However, Ruby had been the perfect example of patience and positivity. It caused Lena to smile. She wished that she had that level of positivity. With Lex trying to kill her constantly or trying to take over her company, she honestly was surprised she hadn’t gone insane. If it wasn’t for Ruby, Ruby's mom Sam, and Lena’s stepmother Lillian, she probably would have.

Lena was jolted out of her thoughts when she heard Ruby scream, “It’s our turn, Auntie Lena!”

Lena looked up to see Ruby sprinting to Santa’s lap. Lena chuckled and quickly followed. 

Santa pulled Ruby up on his lap and asked, “What is your name, dear child?”

Ruby beamed and said, “My name is Ruby!”

Santa smiled and said, “It is nice to meet you, Ruby. What kind of gifts are you looking forward to for Christmas.”

Ruby shook her head and said, “I don’t need you to bring me presents this year Santa.”

Santa frowned and asked, “You don’t?”

Ruby shook her head and said, “I need your help with something very important.”

Lena was startled. She never thought that she would see the day that Ruby would forgo presents. She was quite curious about what she considered more important than a Christmas gift.

Santa looked at her quizzically, “Okay, what problem are you having?”

Ruby turned to Lena, pointed, and said, “I need a miracle. My Auntie Lena needs help.”

Lena looked baffled and said, “Ruby, I don’t need any help.”

Ruby turned to Santa with a worried look on her face and said, “She is lying. She thinks that love doesn’t exist. I need to make her believe again.”

Lena chuckled nervously and said, “Ruby that isn’t true. I believe that love exists. I love you, your mommy, and your grandma Lillian very much.”

Ruby rolled her eyes at her. She turned back to Santa and said, “She’s nervous because she knows that is not what I mean. She doesn’t believe in finding true love anymore. Auntie Lena is awesome and deserves the best true love in the entire world.”

Lena started rubbing the back of her neck and laughing nervously. 

“Ruby, I have taught you that you don’t need to be in a relationship to have a successful life.”

Ruby pouted at her and said, “You are sad all the time now since Andrea left. When I sleep over at your apartment, I hear you cry in your room at night wishing she would come back.” She turned to Santa and said, “Please don’t bring her back into her life. My mom said that she is a bad word, but it does rhyme with witch.”

Santa tried to stifle a chuckle. Lena looked at both of them mortified. She always thought she hid her emotions well around Ruby, but clearly she was wrong. Her last two relationships nearly destroyed her. When she was in college, she had dated Jack for 4 years. She thought that her relationship with him was going well until he bailed. Stated that being around her was a hazard. By that point, Lex had tried to kill her three times. The third time Jack took a bullet that was meant for her that put him in the hospital for three months. She was devastated that he broke up with her, but at least she understood it. Being with her was a hazard, and while she was willing to be his ride or die, she understood him not feeling the same way. 

Lena stayed single after that for two years until she met Andrea. She was a force of nature that swept her off her feet. She constantly surprised her with trips, flowers, chocolates, and love notes. She felt so loved and spoiled. Lena wanted to spend the rest of her life with her and often was scared that it was too good to be true. And it was. A couple of months ago, a hysterical woman broke into her building demanding to see her claiming Lena stole her wife and destroyed their family. Lena thought the lady was nuts until she had her private investigator do some digging and found out that Andrea not only was married but had five kids. She was devastated. What made matters worse was that Andrea’s wife sold her story to a popular tabloid. Now Lena not only gets blamed for Lex’s shenanigans but she is considered a homewrecker too. As much as she hated Andrea, she still wanted her back and that made her feel terrible. She wished that she could get over her. She barely left the house other than to go to work because it was one of the few things that kept her distracted. That and baking. Her house has been overflowing with baked treats like bread, muffins, and cakes since she left Andrea. Today was Lena’s first outing somewhere other than work in over three months. She only came because Sam agreed to go to a conference she had been avoiding hosted by Morgan Edge in Metropolis. She said the major thing Lena would have to do was to take Ruby to see Santa. Lena thought it would be a quick trip in and out. Now, Lena was regretting that decision.

Lena forced a smile and said, “I know that I was sad, but I am doing much now.”

Ruby pouted at her and said, “No you're not. Sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what you want in a true love.”

Lena sighed. She was starting to become frustrated and she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. 

“Ruby, dear. I don’t need anyone for Christmas. I am fine. I promise you.”

“No you’re not!” shouted Ruby while becoming teary-eyed. 

Lena was on the brink of tears. She knew that Ruby meant well, but this was all too much.”

“Ruby, if I sit on Santa’s lap and tell him my Christmas wish for a partner, will you drop this and never speak of this again.”

“Yes!” Ruby beamed. 

Ruby hurried up and got off of Santa’s lap so Lena could sit down. Lena rolled her eyes and gradually went to sit on Santa’s lap. 

“How does this work exactly?” muttered Lena. 

Read the rest on AO3

[oneshotnewbie]

Alex doesn't tell this fact to many people but her and B!D are both deathly allergic to bees and wasps. B!D is also allergic to peanuts.

A/n: This was probably just a little HC thingy but I wanted to do a little blurb to this because I really love this idea.

---

"Dammit, fuck ouch!"

Your sudden yelp made Maggie drop her fork in shock and look up from her meal. She glanced at you questioningly and watched you clutch your upper arm tightly as if you were trying to save this spot from something.

"What happened?" Maggie asked as she bent closer to you over the table to assess what had happened to you. But she knew that you didn´t hear anything from her question- you were too agitated to even listen and she couldn´t quite understand it.

"I just got stung by a wasp- shit." you said slowly, the panic clearly audible in your shaky voice.

"Ouch Baby Danvers.. I guess you have to embrace your destiny as a Wasp-Girl now." The brunette laughed and pushed your hands away with her fingers to take a closer look at the wound. At first glance, it looked like a normal wasp sting that she had to live through several times.

However, the wound turned red quickly and began to pulsate and swell uncomfortably beneath her fingers. "Wait… You´re not allergic are you?"

"I am deadly allergic to wasps. In fact, Alex and I are. One sting can kill us and send both of us to afterlife if action is not taken immediately." you stated and she simply nodded while pulling out her phone to inform Supergirl to pick you up and take you to the hospital for treatment.

The brunette was shocked by the sudden turnaround of this lunch and she realized once again how quickly something beautiful could turn into something unexpected and life-threatening. But at the same time she was also mad at her girlfriend and you for not telling her about your allergy- after all it was important to act properly when something like this happened.

"Maggie, my legs start to tingle and I think my tongue is swelling up. You need to hurry, now."

[ofheroism]

{aslihan malbora; female; she/her} hey isn’t that ROSEMARY YILMAZ-KOVAL? the TWENTY-SEVEN year old HUMAN and a song that plays when you see them is BLOOM by THE PAPER KITES. They are known to be NURTURING and OVERPROTECTIVE. They have been in VALDEZ for THEIR ENTIRE LIFE and always remind me of sunlight peeking through the trees in a hidden meadow, freshly tied dandelion flower crowns, handwritten letters to cherished friends, hair dusted with flour from baking. what secrets will they discover?

BASICS

NAME: rosemary avalon yilmaz-koval

BIRTH DATE + AGE: october 12, 1995 – 20:44

GENDER: female

PRONOUNS: she/her

ORIENTATION: demisexual panromantic

SPECIES: human

OCCUPATION: event coordinator at town hall; baker at mad batter (weekends only)

BIRTHPLACE: valdez, alaska

FAMILY: adem yilmaz - biological father (hunter, deceased), zehra yilmaz - mother (hunter, deceased), taras koval - adoptive father (hunter),  sasha koval - adoptive mother (hunter), morgan koval - adoptive sister (hunter), xxx koval - adoptive brother (hunter?)

APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: aslihan malbora

EYE COLOR: dark brown

HAIR: dark brown

HEIGHT: 5′4″

TATTOOS: none

SCARS/BIRTH MARKS: a scar from her right shoulder to a few inches below her collarbone. it almost resembles the lines of three claws, but that couldn’t be right. she tries to keep it hidden.

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC: libra sun, gemini moon, gemini rising

MBTI: esfj, the caregiver.

ENNEAGRAM: 2w1, the altruist. social/self-preservation subtype.

ALIGNMENT: lawful good

TEMPERAMENT: phlegmatic-sanguine

ARCHETYPE: the caregiver / the moral compass

ELEMENT: earth

ASSOCIATED CHARACTERS: princess anna (frozen), starfire (teen titans), katie gardner (percy jackson), meg march (little women), kara danvers (supergirl), megan morse (young justice), annie edison (community), maybe charles boyle (b99) and jane bennet (pride and prejudice)

AESTHETIC: sunlight peeking through the trees in a hidden meadow, freshly tied dandelion flower crowns, handwritten letters to cherished friends, hair dusted with flour from baking, chamomile tea, white silk, waking up to freshly baked cinnamon rolls, oversized sweaters, holding hands with all your friends, an overgrown herb garden on the kitchen windowsill, pinky promises 

TW: parental and family death (by werewolf attack), mention of drowning and hospital

the only child of adem and zehra yilmaz, rosemary and sage were named after zehra’s love for herbalism. their family, a long line of hunters, moved to washington state before the twins were born, following a lead on a record number of supernatural cases in the 1980s. eventually, their assignments took them to alaska, and adem found he enjoyed the small community of hunters enough that he wanted to stay. zehra, learning she was pregnant, decided settling down was for the best. how many supernatural dangers could there be in alaska, anyway?

hunters are typically hereditary, in the sense that the skills and traditions are passed down from parent to child over the years. this life was expected of rosemary and sage, but while other children of hunters learned of supernatural creatures at a young age, zehra decided it was best to let them be children as long as possible, debating with adem whether to wait until they were at least ten or twelve to tell them or whether they were more at risk not knowing. 

when the girls were about eight, adem made a wrong move. he’d taken down a trio of werewolves. or, at least, so he’d thought. one had survived and remembered his scent, wasting no time in tracking him down. the family was staying at a lodge in chugiak with family friends right outside anchorage for the twins’ birthday, still absolutely not grown out of begging to go to the marsh wildlife boardwalk. the werewolf, near feral in their wolf form and even worse consumed with rage, had no mercy for anyone in adem’s family. shattering the wooden cabin door into pieces, only zehra managed to escape with a terrified rosemary in her arms. they ran until the earth ran out, and when the werewolf slashed at rosemary, it managed no more than a scratch before zehra shoved rosemary off the cliff. people went cliff diving here regularly, and perhaps it wasn’t safe, but an icy lake was better than being left for a werewolf. 

when their family friends, taras and sasha koval, returned from dinner, they were too late to catch the werewolf and found only zehra in her final moments. sasha’s hand clasped in hers, zehra begged her to look for her daughters, to keep them safe, and to keep them far, far away from the world they all knew. 

sage’s body was never found, and all a young rosemary could remember when she awoke in the hospital was the frigid temperature of the lake, a soul-freezing emptiness that left her feeling as though she’d never know warmth again. they told her it had been a car accident, that they’d driven off a cliff and only she had survived, that her vague memory of a splintered cabin was just her brain’s way of trying to process what she couldn’t remember. as more time passed, she believed she really must have imagined it. 

the kovals adopted her and kept to zehra’s last wishes. despite her being younger by several years than their son and daughter, they raised her as their own, and kept her completely oblivious of supernaturals, whether they agreed with it or not. for her thirteenth birthday, after a read of anne of green gables, rosemary asked to legally take the koval last name, too. 

she will introduce herself has rosemary, but her closest friends might call her rose. she’s fine with any nicknames except despises mary.

after losing her biological family, rosemary has been desperate to never be left alone again and puts down roots in as many friendships and community organizations as she can manage, often spreading herself too thin.

losing her brother-in-law was another terrible blow, but emotionally losing her sister morgan was the most devastating loss yet, since it felt like her own fault for not being able to reach her. 

is very big on platonic love and will hold hands and hug and snuggle with everyone without hesitation. probably seems flirtatious at times but does not flirt with anyone on purpose and is entirely oblivious to anyone flirting with her. 

tries to force everyone to have as much town spirit as she does and sees it as her personal duty to befriend every valdez newcomer so they don’t feel alone.

very old-fashioned, enjoys hand-written letters and texts like an old aunt who just discovered emojis, has no social media because wants to hear about your day in person.

secretly loves to paint but is self-conscious about it. is not at all self conscious about her baking tho. 

terrified of swimming/any body of water larger than a pond. 

top 5 theme songs:

bloom by the paper kites

Can I take it to a morning Where the fields are painted gold And the trees are filled with memories Of the feelings never told?

the lakes by taylor swift

I want auroras and sad prose I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet 'Cause I haven't moved in years And I want you right here A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground With no one around to tweet it While I bathe in cliffside pools

love grows (where my rosemary grows) by edison lighthouse

She ain't got no money Her clothes are kinda funny Her hair is kinda wild and free Oh, but love grows where my Rosemary goes And nobody knows like me. There's something about her hand holding mine It's a feeling that's fine And I just gotta say She's really got a magical spell

hey jude (remastered) by the beatles 

Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart, Then you can start to make it better.

i was here by beyoncé

I want to leave my footprints on the sands of time Know there was something that, something that I left behind When I leave this world, I'll leave no regrets I was here, I lived, I loved, I was here I will leave my mark so everyone will know I was here I wanna say I lived each day, until I died I know that I had something in somebody's life The hearts I have touched, will be the proof that I leave That I made a difference and this world will see

Her Pinterest board is here.

His Spotify playlist is here.

— CONNECTIONS:

FAMILIAL:

TWIN SISTER - { 0 / 1 } - sage yilmaz - her twin sister she believes died in a car accident around age 8. for drama maybe she was actually turned into a werewolf and the one wolf felt bad and took her in?? - werewolf, turkish fc, female

ADOPTED FAMILY - { 1 / 2 } - morgan koval & OPEN koval - her adoptive family she was close to even before she was adopted. 

PLATONIC: 'I’D DO ANYTHING FOR YOU’ - { 2 / 5 } - chariya lin, ezel somsi - people rosemary considers her best friends, regardless of whether it’s mutual. treats them like family, is very protective (read: overbearing and meddlesome) of, tells everyone about how wonderful they are, etc. 

FRENEMIES - { 0 / 2 } - maybe a couple people that rosemary doesn’t outright hate due to insert redeeming trait here but is annoyed by bc they don’t seem to follow the rules or are too chaotic 

ROOMMATES - { 0 / 3 } - going along with her inability to ever be alone, rosemary has decided that having a full house will help solve that. is v messy bc always bringing in new baby plants and catching up on dishes from baking.

FRIENDS -  { 0 / ? } - regular friends, which is still probably how normal people treat their faves. she’s lived here her entire life and tries to be on good terms with everyone. 

ACQUAINTANCES - { 0 / ? } maybe they’re new to town or they’re just recluses and refuse to get to know her. 

CO-WORKERS - { 0 / ? } - others who work at town hall or mad batter. 

ANTAGONISTIC:

DISLIKED/ENEMIES - { 0 / ? } - did they hurt one of her best friends in an argument 7 years ago? did they tell her community events are annoying or unimportant? are they not lawful good? for being so nice, she writes people off rather quickly. 

ROMANTIC:

LONG TERM CRUSH - { 0 / 1 } - this could be someone who considers her an acquaintance, friend, or best friend, and maybe has no idea she’s into him or is aware but doesn’t feel the same (he could like her back but i don’t plan ships so absolutely not required!) but she thinks she’s been very obvious bringing him one cookie more than everyone else or little mundane things that are absolutely not proper interest signaling based on her usual personality. 

OBLIVIOUS TO LOVE - { 0 / 1 or 2 } - some one or someones who flirt with her bc they’re into her or maybe just looking for a fling and she simply has no idea because someone could get on one knee and propose and she’d still manage to think it was like a platonic bestie ceremony

OTHER - feel free to hit me up with any other ideas you have as well !

[jasonbakerphotography]

Danvers State Hospital

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