#{trying to write lillian some more}

[welcometothevale]

Open Starter

She was taking a quick break from her booth for a much needed glass of water and few hits from her vape. Lillian's hair was damp with sweat. The azure blue waves ended just under her chin—curtain bands partly stuck to her forehead. It was already hot as hell in the club, and she wasn't one to just stand all corpse-like at the booth. She considered DJing at the club her exercise. No need to soulcycle when you're losing yourself in music.

After finishing one glass of water, forgoing a straw completely to drink faster, she asked for another. Lillian could feel someone looking at her and found the culprit to be sitting next to her. "What? Something on my face?" She asked. While her tone was thick with sarcasm, it wasn't unkind. On her face was a smile. But, one would need to have a loose definition of the word smile to consider the minute quirk of the left side of her mouth one.

[phasecornnuts]

Hiiiiiiii! If you’re still open for requests maybe you might wanna write something where the reader casually mentioned that they/she had a partner on earth before they died and Alastor takes it a bit too drastically and has just been very salty and asking too many questions 😭 if you like that

Please & thanks ❤️

Hey guys I've returned! Sorry for taking a little while, I was busy with finals/I wanted to relax on my spring break so I didn't have a lot of time. I lowkey kind of cooked with this one too so enjoy :3

Also, I sorta made the reader be from around the same time period as Alastor (sorta late 1910s early 1930s) for extra spice

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had become a daily routine for you and Alastor to have afternoon tea together in cannibal town. Always, between the hours and four and six o’ clock after Alastor had finished his broadcast and you, your hotel duties, the both of you would walk down to Rosie’s Emporium to nibble on finger sandwiches, candied eyeballs, and other treats. 

The sun was still high in the sky, sending fingers of light through the windows of the cafe; the building was alive with the chatter of demons and hell-born alike. You and Alastor had just sat down, a short cannibal girl with a heart-shaped face and glowing brown ringlets placing your usuals on the table. Oh how beautiful they were! Too pretty to eat, garnished with tiny sprigs of mint (or, at least, it may have been mint) and resting on plates of delicate porcelain. With polished silver beside them, and matching teacups and saucers too, it all looked like a party for a girl’s favorite doll.

That is, if it weren’t human meat. 

Looking up from your plate, you saw Alastor turn his head to follow the cannibal girl making you frown. His gaze returned to you before he caught you staring, a chipper grin on his face as always.

“She could be a dead ringer for Mary Pickford, don’t you think?”

Your eyebrows perked. You hadn’t looked long at the girl admittedly, though you stared long enough to know that she was no Pickford. You pursed your lips,

“I don’t see it, Lillian Gish maybe.”

He looked at you like a mad-woman, “You don’t!?”

“No! Her eyes are much too large!”

Alastor chuffed, proceeding to rest his chin on his dark hand, “In the eye of the beholder I suppose.” 

You rolled your eyes, “You only say that because of her curls,” you stated while picking up the teapot and pouring yourself and Alastor your cups, “Now, drink before it gets cold.”

For much of your lunch neither of you spoke, merely enjoying each other’s presence while pecking on some food here and there. Throughout the meal the waitress brought more plates, pancreas tarts, minced tongues coated with cinnamon sugar, and sweet pies filled with rotted venison and cooked kidneys, all Rosie’s treat. Alastor had been taken by the small pies in their mulled deliciousness, the meat so tender you saw his eyes water. He pleaded you to try one, though you couldn’t, your stomach filled to the brim from the other treats and delicacies. 

Alastor picked up the small pair of silver tongs from beside him and placed two sugar cubes in his tea, “I do say, it’s nice to have a meal companion again.” He took a sip from his teacup and grinned. 

You nodded in agreement, lifting the milk jug from the table and pouring a generous amount into your cup. “Likewise. Good dinner conversation is a horrid thing to lose.”

“Truly.” He took another drink. “Before you, I hadn’t had a proper luncheon since my mother.”

“From what you tell she sounded like a fine woman.” His grin lost its eeriness, becoming fond instead. 

“She truly was, and such a fine cook too.” Alastor gazed at the fine pattern painted on the rim of his saucer, “her jambalaya was the best, our side of the Mississippi” he chuckled. He began to remember then, “And her gumbo and her crawfish etouffee and her pecan pralines”

It was odd to hear his voice so full of affection, but nice too. So strange, to think a man who broadcasted his murders of other overlords and feasted on their flesh was once a little boy who clung to his mothers skirt and happily ate her cooking. 

“Maybe one day you’ll cook for me then?” you teased

“Oh why wouldn’t I for my favoritest of sinners?” He took your hand.

You leaned in towards him, a silent flirtation. “Or perhaps I could prepare something for you?”

He looked at you from his dark, hooded eyes, a certain intrigue radiating from them. “Would you now?” he said, leaning in closer. 

“Oh I would, anything you’d like.” the tip of your oxford lingering at his ankle. “My food was good enough for my darling back on earth, why would an overlord of hell have any complaints? Other than not enough seasoning I suppose.” 

That was when the laughter in his eyes died. Alastor bit the inside of his cheek before finding the words to speak, “Your darling?”

 “Pardon?”

“You had someone,” He straightened up, pulling himself away from you, “back on earth?”

“I hardly see how it matters now.” 

Alastor’s tone grew curt, had such a simple word bruised his ego? 

He crossed his arms, “What were they like?” each word as sharp as his teeth.

You pulled your hands close to you, confused at his curtness, “They were….they were nice. Cordial, spirited, vivacious, however you would put it. If you’re-” Alastor cut you off. 

“How did you meet them?”

“On the trolley.” That only served to make him scoff.

“Tch, how common. The trolley.”

You chewed your bottom lip, trying to deny the anger towards him that began to knot in your belly. “It was a different lifetime.” You asserted, a hard finality to it. Pushing yourself from the small table you smoothed your skirt and adjusted the ribbon that was tied so nicely in your hair. 

Without looking at him you said, “Tell Rosie I’m grateful for her hospitality and I will try to find a way to repay her. Also that I’m sorry that I had to retire without saying hello but I feel rather…faint.” Before leaving completely you said, “See you back at the hotel.”

The rest of the day you hid in your room, sulking and pacing. Charlie had tried to coax you out, seeing how angry you’d been when you came back, but you denied every effort she had. 

“It’s not good to stay cooped up in there,” the Princess pleaded.

“I like my alone time.”

 “But- but I had games planned! Husk was going to show us how to play Blackjack and Dominoes!”

“I prefer bridge, and he’ll just cheat us anyways.”

She gave a disappointed sigh, and outside the door you could hear Vaggie talking to her, telling Charlie to give you your space. 

For three nights straight you avoided Alastor, finishing up your hotel duties quickly before hiding in your room. You grew bored after the first day admittedly, a person could only sleep and bathe and read so much. The fourth night is when he knocked on your door while you lied draped on your couch, your nose in a book you’d already finished before. Thinking it was Charlie, you ignored it, sure she’d get the message. It insisted however, rapping harder the second time. You sighed, annoyed. “Who is it?”

“Alastor, may I come in?”

A sour taste came in your mouth, “No.”

“You cannot lock yourself away from me forever.” 

You lifted yourself off the couch, full of bitterness, “I can and I will!”

An electric hum filled your ears, the sound of Alastor weighing his words, “Could you at least entertain my attempt?”

Walking to the door and opening it slightly you saw his face, those deep, hooded eyes dark as blood, cracked lips, and hollow cheekbones. All of those beautiful, haunting features draped in remorse. You sighed, cursing the affection you had for him. 

“Fine, but I’m still cross with you.” That made him smile, if only a tad. 

Opening the door fully, you saw he’d brought one of the dining carts from the unused kitchen clad in a clean white sheet. Alastor pushed it to the center of the room before spiritedly ripping the cover from the cart, presenting polished silver dishes of raw meat and organs. From the bottom shelf of it, he had pulled a fine bottle of wine and two shining glasses.

“I helped myself to a bottle of Husk’s finest, the patrons here don’t have as refined tastes as you and I.” He gave a small grin. So this is what he brought with him, a peace offering. Your stomach was empty from only eating a small meal earlier in the day, so perhaps it was not in vain, though you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him. 

“I’ll help you set the table,” you offered, feeling guilty he put so much effort into pleasing you. 

Alastor held his hands up, “No need darling.” He put his hand on his throat, “What I said the other day was very…” he coughed into his hand, “ungentlemanly of me, and I wanted to make it up to you.” 

You folded your hands and held them to your chest, looking at the embarrassment he tried to hide. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, and raised your gaze to his. “Thank you, Alastor.” His grin widened as he sat down beside you. 

He uncorked the bottle of wine, beginning to pour it into the glasses, “Of course.” He handed you the glass which you took gladly. The vintage was so dark it looked black, reflecting the lights that glowed from the ceiling. Swishing it, you could see the hidden shades of red that the wine hid.

“Demon’s blood, Husk calls it.” Alastor told you before he took a long sip. 

“Fitting. Do you know how long he’s aged it?” Alastor shrugged, taking another swallow. 

“I didn’t care to ask, but it tastes so good going down. Come, drink, I didn’t bring this up so I could get drunk by myself.” That made you giggle, how much he valued the both of you eating and drinking together. 

Taking his lead, you titled your head back, savoring the warm burn of the wine going down. Its hot fingers lingered in your chest before fading, like drinking cold medicine. In three large gulps you finished your glass, noticing the way Alastor’s eyes watched your throat as you drank. After finishing your second glass you began to dig into the food he’d brought, pancreas tarts, cooked kidneys and…oh good god! On the largest plate was a raw heart, fresh and bloody. 

“Where did you get this? You shouldn’t have!” Your eyes went wide and your mouth began to salivate. A raw heart! Oh and it was human too! Such a fine delicacy must have taken so much begging from Alastor!

“Rosie owed me a favor. And I owe it to you, for making such a jackass of myself.” 

You took another sip of your wine, feeling your face begin to flush. You helped yourself to a tart while Alastor poured himself another glass. As you ate you felt his eyes on you again, focusing on the way your teeth bit into the pastry, your swan’s neck showing your swallow, and how your tongue dragged across your lips. Feeling bold, you placed your feet in his lap and wiped the corner of your mouth with your finger, licking the tip of it with your tongue. He swallowed, hard, his eyes growing wide. 

“Are you looking at something?” Your voice a heavy seduction.

“Possibly.” He drank again. Leaning back on the arm of the couch, he placed his glass on the floor. The tips of his fingers grazed your legs, “Though I do have another question for you, if I may.”

A sultry smirk grew on your face, “That depends on what it is, Al.” God, you could see the glint in his eyes then.

Alastor looked up at you from his hooded eyes, “I’ve been wondering…about your “darling.” You arched an eyebrow; your interest piqued. “Did they ever have…you?” His breath shuddered. 

“Have me, how?” You teased.

“Oh humor me my dear,” He purred

You smirked and shifted your legs in his lap. “Hmm, maybe once or twice…” You sit up from your recline and crawl onto his lap.

“What sorts of things did they do to you?” 

Running your fingers down his chest you savored the way he squirmed and shifted, “All sorts of unholy things” 

Alastor choked on his breath, his eyes transfixed on your face. Slowly, he caught it, regaining a certain boldness afterwards. His hand found the top of your stocking, fingering the nylon taut to your thighs. “Getting rather comfortable aren’t we my dear?”

The smirk you had deepened and you pulled in closer, feeling the heat of his breath tickle your cheeks. You looked into his eyes, “I could get much more comfortable if you like, Al.” For what seemed like ages you lingered, until you felt you had tortured the man enough. Slowly, you leaned in, seemingly ready to kiss his shiny red lips. Grinning, you pulled a piece of dry skin from his bottom lip between your teeth, peeling it to show the bleeding flesh beneath. 

You sat back on his lap and spat out the skin. Looking at him, you saw that hunger in his eyes again. That fine line of decorum the two of you had with one another, ignoring the lingering gazes and longing touches, all thrown away with one bite. Underneath, you could feel his arousal beginning to grow hard. You rolled your hips slightly into him, earning a throaty groan from Alastor. From the silver dining cart you pulled the piece de resistance, that raw bleeding heart, and sunk your teeth into it, tasting the sweet flavor of iron. Trails of blood dripped from your mouth onto your decolletage, slowly turning brown and flaky.

Alastor’s breath heaved, growing even harder from that sultry cannibalistic display. He pulled you towards him and pressed your mouth to his, saccharine saliva mixing with sanguine. His tongue slid and twisted about yours, savoring every inch of its taste. You pulled away from him to catch your breath, making him whine. Leaning in again, he dragged his tongue along your neck, cleaning up the drying strings of blood. 

Both of you straightened up then, him holding you proper now. One hand ran its fingers through his shiny red hair and the other cupped his aching sex, so taut against his trousers. 

“Is that what you were so upset about Al? If they fucked me or not?” You purred into his ear.

The tips of your fingers fluttered over his hip, tracing its edge before returning to his cock. “I bet you wondered if I did this to them, didn’t you?” A small nip was placed on his neck, leaving a red half-moon. Your breath grew hot against his cheek as you whispered into his ear again, 

“Maybe I did, and maybe I did so many more dirty things to them.” 

Alastor enraptured your mouth in another needy kiss. His words heavy with radio static, “What sort of things my dear? Or are you all talk?” Your grin widened seeing the shock in his eyes when you began to unbutton his overcoat.

“Let me show you.”

Four little words was all it took to send him over the edge. Picking you up, his hands traced over all the parts of your succulent body. When he flopped you on the bed, hair as tousled as a pin-up, you reached out a stockinged leg to him, that devious look on your face growing. Oh how badly he wanted to have you, hastily unzipping your dress as you stripped him down to his undershirt and trousers. Deft fingers hooked around the tops of your stockings, pulling them down as fast as they could. You dropped his trousers and took off his shirt, admiring all of that soft, gray skin.

You pressed your mouth to the flesh of his stomach, blessing it with small love-bites that made him shudder. All along his torso you left red patches and traced your cool fingertips along the hard edges where his ribs poked out. You tilted your head up and moved his hands to the straps of your brasserie, exposing all of your hot, yearning flesh. He cupped a breast and lied on top of you. Grinding his sex to yours he moaned into your mouth. It had been so…so long since you’d been wanted, since someone pressed their body to yours and you felt all of their heat as they slid into you, over and over again. 

“Al,” You breathed

“What is it?”

“Get on your back.” 

And so he did. 

Alastor’s back against the mattress and your palms against his chest, you let him enter you. He let out a string of curses when you did, and even more when you started moving in those easy rolling motions. Those large hands of his held the curve of your waist as you rode him, his eyes half-lidded as he watched your breasts bounce. 

“The first time I saw you…” You began, going a little faster, “I wanted you,” You heard a small thud as he dropped his head against the pillows.

“I thought about you kissing me and touching me all over” That’s when the pulses of pleasure started to build up, prickling you in sweet needles that went all the way up your spine.

“And about you sticking your fingers in me and..and your tongue too” You felt your face heat up and your sex grow slicker, admitting those indecent thoughts you only entertained during late nights when your fingers wandered. Alastor gripped your waist tighter, making your rhythm harsher. You looked down on him, his eyes glazed over with euphoria, and felt your mouth pool with saliva.

Digging your nails into the skin of his chest you kept on. “For a whole week I couldn’t keep from slipping my hands between my legs.” Your voice, thick and hoarse. “I wanted to know what you tasted like, if-if your mouth tasted like blood,” that was when he quickened the pace even more. Your sex was so hot and wet, all the way at the base of your spine you could feel your orgasm coming to you, a full-body shiver that made your eyes well with tears. 

The last part was what sent him over the edge though. 

“Sometimes, I’d bite myself so I could taste the blood when I’d touch-” was all it took to make him come. 

Fuck it felt good too. A weak falsetto escaped your mouth when he released, so warm and filling. That’s what made you reach your end too. You clawed your nails in his skin so deep there were two broken half-moons on his chest. Your thighs clenched against his torso, quivering, as you could feel your body become as light and floaty as chiffon. 

Alastor let the both of you ride it out, that sweet joyous bliss. When your mind returned from the heaven it was sent to, you leaned over, resting on top of him. He moved you gently, pressing you closely to his chest. For a while, neither of you spoke, the air lingering with the smell of sweat and blood and sex. You ran your fingers through his hair again; He kissed the back of your hand before speaking. 

“If I’d known all that would come out of making you angry at me, I would’ve earned your ire a long while ago.” You rolled your eyes, flicking his chest playfully. 

“Perhaps we could do this again, without the arguing?” You propose, “You’re quite good at it.” 

A smile stretched across his face as he played with a lock of hair that rested near your face, “Expect nothing less from an overlord of hell cher.” One of his hands slid to your lower back, tracing small circles on that creamy flesh. 

“How about we try one more time without the arguing, for good measure?”

You smirked and kissed him again. All for good measure.

[liquidorcard]

Lily's Harley Quinn Show video is Garbage (and here's why)

We all know Lily's media hottakes are BAD. But, I feel like critics have mostly focused on her hottakes on media she hates. I've personally become more interested in what media she actually LIKES . . . Because her rational is often times even more nuts.

Well, this video made me mad enough that I'm gunna write a post about it now. Prepare your assholes for the death rattle of this DC fanboy losing his shit:

To be clear, I like this show, for some of the same reasons Lily does even. . . But that's not going to stop me from taking the piss.

(I encourage you all to watch the video in full beforehand so you can get the context of the quotes I'm pulling. Timestamps will be included though.

I just told people to watch your stupid video Lily-- can't cry copyright here.)

-0:19: TWENTY SECONDS IN, STEVEN UNIVERSE IS REFERENCED. GG LILLIAN.

-0:36: BITCHING ABOUT HOW VICTIMIZED SHE IS. 30 SECONDS IN.

-0:55: "I dare say it's the best thing to come out of the Batman franchise in a long time."

It seems like the last thing Lily watched/played/read in "the Batman franchise" was The Dark Knight. You dare boldly, Lily. Ironically I feel like she would at least like the Lego Batman movie, if not all the other good shit that's come out since 2011. Also, this is one of the first of many times she calls the entire fucking DC Universe "The Batman Franchise."

-1:00: "If you're watching this show for at all you're watching it for the romantic arc between Harley and Ivy. Don't lie."

I know this is a joke. I'm not an idiot, but. If you're familiar with Lily's general media consumption, you'll be well aware she watches shit a lot of the time for the ships and the ships ALONE. I feel like this really highlights how she views media in general in a way that's rather revealing. This video is two years old, and I wouldn't be surprised if Lily's opinion has soured a bit given the direction the show goes after this video was released. Put a pin in this comment. 📌

-1:15: "I mean it's a post-joker Harley Quinn show what else are they going to do.

Put a pin in that comment.📌

-2:00: Lily goes on to summarize the plot of the show . . . Completely ignoring all the plot beats that have nothing to do with the romance.

Put a pin in that one too.📌

-3:30: Lily indicates she identifies with Ivy.

Another pin.📌

-4:10: Lily starts talking about how near the end of the second season, Harley has now confessed her feelings to Ivy, but Ivy turns her down because she's going to get married to Kite Man (enjoy the insanity of that sentence if you haven't seen the show.)

Though I don't think she's nessesarily making any real poor points here yet, I want to point out that she really flattens the complexity of the emotions going on here. The problem is that Ivy and Harley's relationship has reached a level of intimacy where they really can't just go back to being friends. Ivy is happily in a relationship with Kite Man at this point, he's been a much more stable and reliable partner to Ivy. Though it's implied her feelings for Harley go a lot deeper. During Joker's confrontation of Harley, Lily frames it as a "go get 'er" pep talk like it's a fucking 80s rom com. He's trying more to get Harley to emotionally resolve things with her-- regardless of outcome. Ivy did say no once already. The audience expects she isn't going to say no a second time since that wouldn't be a narratively satisfying conclusion, but in the real world equivalent, she could have. The Joker wasn't telling Harley to harass Ivy until she gives in.

-5:16: Not really a mark against Lily's video persay, but in a season that aired after Lily made this video the prospect of Harley and Ivy breaking up is explored. Lily must have been seething, lol.

-5:28: "I love a good fluffy romance. I'm so fucking done with people's obsession with the nasty stuff [Flashes Catra and Adora on screen.]"

Honestly this comment has me wondering if Lily decided to check her phone or just skip through scenes where Harley and Ivy weren't being lovey-dovey. I don't know what fucking show she apparently watched (foreshadowing is a narrative tool wh--.)

-5:48: "Poison Ivy has always had the same problem a lot of female characters in DC comics have had in despite being an actual doctor they always just put her in a skin tight leotard [ . . . ] About the only notable exception to that was in The Batman [the 2005 show] where she was a teenager [classical Lily goonery inserted here.]"

Ignoring the goon comment, in isolation I don't have a grievance with this comment persay. As a generalization, it's more or less true about Ivy. She's unfortunately one of the lesser well-used characters in the various DC canons as a whole. However, Lily is going to start implying she's more familiar with DC in general, especially the comics, than she really is. I have strong reason to doubt Lily would know Ivy canonically has a doctorate in botanical sciences if this show didn't call so much attention to it. You'll see why in a moment.

Also the 2005 Batman show is far from the only iteration to reimagine Ivy as a teen. I like that show's take on Ivy too, but that's not a fucking unique spin on the character.

-6:57: "Clayface was always a random D-list monster like Carnage, but here he's reimagined as a struggling actor."

In a show that had the balls to feature Queen of Fables, she's calling Clayface a fucking "d-lister." Nevermind Carnage. But no Lily, Clayface has been a struggling actor since his first appearance in Detective Comics No.40. It's literally the first thing in his bio on his fucking wiki page.

-7:09: "There's one episode where [Clayface] assumes the identity of Stephanie to get into Riddler's college [ . . . ] Seriously I'm convinced he's been moonlighting as Stephanie a lot. The other girls on campus call her 'Steph.' She's been there for a while. This is Clayface's secret identity and you can't convince me otherwise."

LILY THAT'S NOT SUBTEXT THAT'S THE FUCKING JOKE. IT'S TEXT. IT'S CANON. YES. CLAYFACE HAS BEEN FUCKING AROUND ON RIDDLER'S CAMPUS THIS WHOLE TIME. CONFIRMED IN THE SHOW. LILY. LILLLYYYYYY.

Worth pointing out too, she'd totally call Clayface's Stephanie character transphobic if she hated the show.

-9:00: "The writers though 'okay, what do we use to fill our quota of the sad misguided villian this arc-- oh I know fucking BATMAN!'"

Lily what the fuck are you doing when you sit down to watch a show for your channel? Are you playing Candycrush the whole time? Are you screaming at Mikaila that often you miss like . . . Almost everything!? What are you doin' sweaty!?

Lilian, Bruce is not the primary antagonist of the 3rd season . . . IVY IS. Or really, Harley and Ivy's emotional dysfunction is the antagonist of basically this whole series, and it's Ivy's turn to be the main driver of conflict. The person destroying Gotham is Ivy. Not Batman, IVY.

Bruce and Selina's relationship is supposed to be a conceptual foil to Harley and Ivy's. Bruce is having an emotional breakdown the entire series has more or less been building up to.

-9:15: [In reference to Batman getting sent to prison] "I want him to get some nice and comfortable therapy."

. . . Lily is that what you think happens in prison?

-9:35: Lily is talking about the Joker's step-dad arc, and this is as good a time as any to stop for a sec to talk about how Lily doesn't seem to get what The Harley Show is doing with the characters.

The thing that makes the show an exceptionally brilliant take on the DC universe is that virtually all the characters (with some exceptions, that were tweaked for the better mostly) are actually faithful to their comic book/generally established characterization. To an impressive degree, down to even just minor details. You can tell the people who made this show are genuine fans of DC comics. Their personalities and character arcs are exaggerated for comedic effect, with specific interesting angles teased out to draw focus to them. Some elements of their personality are recontextualized to create a more engaging dynamic, but regardless. Even most of the plot elements are at least loose adaptations of storylines from the comic, or other DC media. It's really impressive how the show both works as a functional take on the DC universe by itself, and as a parody of it. Lily demonstrates she's totally oblivious to this multiple times in the video, but her section on the Joker best exemplifies this.

The Joker has taken over and/or become mayor of Gotham multiple times in the comics. Lily thinks for some god forsaken reason in the 70 something years Batman comics have been printed, nobody's thought of that. THEY HAVE. The gag with the second time Joker takes over Gotham IN THIS FUCKING SHOW ALONE is . . . He's actually a really good mayor. Gotham is a perpetual capitalist nightmare shithole of a city. The most insane, radical anarchist thing for The Joker to do is . . . Be a socialist who actually gives a shit about the small folk. That's the joke, Lily. That's the joke. That's the mother fucking JOKE. THE FUNNY HAHA, THERE IT IS LILY. I FUCKING EXPLAINED IT TO YOU.

And Lilian. The Joker being at his most normal and stable while he has a family. Is. A. Direct. Parody. Of. One. Of. The. Most. FAMOUS. BATMAN STORIES. EVER. WRITTEN.

SHE IS LITERALLY FUCKING SHOWING THE EPISODE WHERE THEY DIRECTLY VISUALLY REFERENCE THE KILLING JOKE ON SCREEN. LILY YOU'RE GOING TO GIVE ME A FUCKING HERNIA.

-10:10: Lily calls Sam Raimi a "douchebag."

Fuck right off.

-10:25: "It's a return to wacky hijinks that uses to define The Joker back when he was a gangster in funny makeup."

NO IT ISN'T LILY.

-11:00: Lily bitches about Harley Quinn for the 7 minutes in the remaining runtime.

Okay, the play-by-play is over, I'm going to address this section all at once because it will be quicker and more comprehensive if I do. This is the point where all the aformentioned pins come in.

Though I'm going to have to be ignoring some bullshit Lily says here in order to stay focused, I will mention first, Lily doesn't seem to realize Batfleck and Nolan's Batman were MASSIVE departures from the comics and don't pull much from the storylines. I don't think that's nessesarily a bad thing, even though I'm not the biggest fan of either of those interpretations, but for the record-- no. Those adaptations have almost nothing to do with Year one, The Dark Night Returns, The Killing Joke, or The Long Halloween outside of superficial elements. Lily just googled "famous Batman comics" and picked the four she probably vaguely heard of before. Again, she didn't even recognize the in-your-face impossible to miss Killing Joke parody episode she used as footage for this video. SHE'S JUST PRETENDING SHE'S READ COMICS SHE HASN'T.

Now to the point:

Lily's rational for not liking Harley's portrayal in the Harley Quinn show is honest to god brain damage. I'm not even sure how hard I need to go into explaining this because . . . It's pointing at the text itself and calling it a flaw. Harley's entire journey as a person is TRYING TO DISCOVER WHO SHE IS outside of the toxic codependency she had with the Joker. Her arc is both a meta commentary on the nature of the character conceptually and her journey to redefine herself. THIS ISN'T FUCKING SUBTLE. THIS IS STATED IN THE SHOW. Harley's identity crisis over whether or not she's even a villan anymore STARTS IN SEASON 3. Harley's lack of inhibition is what DRIVES THE PLOT IN SEASON 2. Harley's struggles to emancipat herself IS THE PLOT OF THE FIRST FUCKING EPISODE. This is also honestly the ONLY DC property I can think of that actually bothers to do something with the fact that Harley is a psychologist. Almost on that basis alone, it's one of the most refreshing takes on the character. That actually means something when I say it, because I've actually read a fucking comic in my life. LILY WHAT FUCKING DIMENSION DO YOU SLIP INTO ANY TIME YOU SIT DOWN TO WATCH A SHOW.

That question is rhetorical-- Lily tells on herself several times throughout this video. Remember those pins? Go read em again. Lily identifies with Ivy, so Lily decided Ivy is the "real" main character-- and wants Harley to be Ivy's loving kissy huggy gf. She genuinely thinks the show is actively making a mistake anytime her smut ship fanfic is interrupted. Lily wants porn. LILY YEARNS FOR THE PORN, ALWAYS. Every single fucking time.

She's decided Ivy has done nothing wrong to create tension in the relationship. She has deemed the character flaws Harley has that creates tension in the relationship a mistake in the writing.

Because Lily has not actually read a comic, but probably has seen Batman: The Animated Series-- she's missed all of the other references and spoofs in the show except for the ones involving Harley. That was the show she was originally created in.

Case-fucking-closed. Water is wet, the sky is blue, and Lily Orchard is talking out of her ass.

Kill my parents and call me the world's greatest detective, I guess.

[smoft-demons]

If you aren't busy could you try writing about an mc that looks identical to Lilith and maybe even has a similar name example: lily, Lillian etc. (If you can, maybe mc that has a similar personality with lilith) And Ofc its platonic. (sorry if you don't understand, I barely ask on tumblr(⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

Also! It can be fluff or angst (if you can't write all of the brothers lucifer, belphegor and Beelzebub would be fine(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Mc can be gender neutral! (You can choose whatever format you're comfortable with)

Ofc if u don't want to its fine, i just saw your requests open

Sorry if this is too long(⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Sure! No worries about it being too long, it gives me lots to work with :)

First request yay! Hope you like it

MC’s name is Lily

Lucifer:

Lucifer double-takes when he first sees you. He knew your name in advance, but looking at you, seeing the resemblance… it shocks him.

He keeps a straight face, however.

It becomes increasingly obvious that he has a soft spot for you. It grows softer and softer as he gets to know you.

When you harmlessly disobey him, he can’t help but let you off. Lilith was a bit of a rebel too, and you look just like her when you’re trying to be sneaky

He loses it when you put yourself in danger! You remind him so much of his baby sister, who he gave everything he could for… and he’s supposed to keep this blasted human alive, so help him he will succeed! It’s a matter of pride—and also trauma.

All that is there, but still Lucifer makes an effort to pay attention to the differences between Lilith and you. Few as there may be, he will not cloud his own judgement by thinking of you as the new her.

And he will not do you the disservice of acting like you’re someone you’re not.

When the ancestry reveal happens, he’s not exactly surprised. It’s still great news, but… not shocking!

He’s already had his crisis about not being unfair to you by acting like you’re a replacement, so he’s actually pretty good about not saying anything hurtful along those lines.

Beelzebub:

He can’t bear to look at you at first

I mean really, how he’s grieving his sister plus how he’s missing his twin… what’s he supposed to do? You’re in Belphie’s spot, and you’re called Lily, and you’re even acting like her… his heart aches

Good news tho, he definitely won’t eat you

He feels AWFUL for scaring you that one time, about the custard

And that conversation when he opens up to you about that impossible choice he had to make about who to save? He won’t admit it to you or to himself, but a big part of why he asked you who you would have chosen is that he hopes you can give him some insight into what Lilith would have chosen. If she would have made the choice he did.

Once you’ve become good friends with him, he does make an effort to not confuse you with his sister… but it’s hard for him, especially if you look and act like her. He’s really trying!

He would want to hug you for hours after having nightmares of falling. It helps him feel like maybe he’s not a total failure of a protector

He’s giving Mammon a run for his money in terms of being protective of you.

Beel finds himself conflicted after the big reveal. He’s overjoyed to have Belphie back, but he’s so angry with him for hurting you, and also he’s so upset with himself for not realizing Belphie was trapped in the attic the whole time, and ALSO he’s struggling with keeping you separate from Lilith in his mind, similar and genuinely connected as you are, and that makes him feel even more guilty because he genuinely does love you just for yourself. He feels like it’s very mean to you if he lets himself be distracted from that.

This is further complicated by you naturally falling into the role of his baby sister. He loves having you in that role, but it’s hard. A bit triggering. He’s working through it!

All in all, he’s a good big brother. He’d be overjoyed to hear it if you tell him that.

Belphegor:

Learning your name sends him spiralling. He was thinking of this exchange program as a betrayal to Lilith’s memory, he thought Lucifer had forgotten about her, he thought Lucifer didn’t care, but he chose a human named LILY?? Is this him being manipulative, is this coincidence, does it mean he HASN’T stopped caring, does it mean he’s trying to replace their lost baby sister with some human?

Belphie can’t figure it out.

He hangs onto his hatred. He carries out the first steps of his plan

When you meet him, he just… stares. You look like her…

He refuses to cry about it! He sticks to the script, lying to your face as planned, summoning all the hatred and resentment in his fallen heart.

But… you keep coming back. Not just to update him about your pact collecting, but also… just to chat? Checking on him, bringing him small snacks and things that fit through the gaps in the door, telling him about what his brothers are up to, reminding him that Beel misses him terribly and no one has forgotten about him

He’s finding it hard to keep hating you. In all honesty, he’s grown fond of you! But he has a plan and he’s sticking to it! You’re NOT his sister, and nothing short of a miracle can convince him to let go of his resentment!

In timeline A, after the first jailbreak, he never gets around to harming you. He can’t figure out if it’s due to laziness, lack of opportunity, fondness for you on his part, or not wanting to make Beel sad. This becomes irrelevant of course, after Diavolo imprisons him

In timeline B, you’re sent back in time to see how he got released. You open the door, he offers you the hug, you accept.

It’s… nice, for a long moment. Gentle and warm and comfy.

And then he regains his determination, going ahead with his plan to kill you. He gets as far as “Finding it hard to breathe?” before he looks at you. Expecting to feel sadistic satisfaction at seeing a human face screwed up in pain like that. But… you look like his baby sister.

You look just like his baby sister, and you’re scared and hurt. His baby sister… panicking and tearful, because of HIM

He can’t do it

His grip relaxes. He doesn’t let you go, but he’s no longer hurting you.

He’s shaking.

You feel… moisture in your hair. Your throat is bruised and bleeding from his claws digging into your skin. You’re wheezing through your crushed airway. Your brain is flooded with adrenaline. Your prey terror hasn’t let up, as the demon who was threatening your life is still holding you, and he’s CLEARLY still unstable. But, maybe crying from guilt is safer than cold determination to murder you…?

At this point, the others rush in. Mammon tears you away from Belphie. Beel is frozen in horrified confusion. Belphie is having a breakdown on the floor.

Diavolo and Barbatos fill everyone in. Belphie can’t even look at you, he feels so awful.

As you both heal, you get closer. You become real friends. You learn what aspects of the Belphie you knew from the attic were lies, and the surprising amount of things that were true. With everyone’s help, Belphie really digs deep and commits to finally unpacking his trauma and his survivor’s guilt and his grief.

Once you trust him enough—and he trusts himself enough—he takes every opportunity to spoil you. He’ll cuddle you whenever you want, he’ll make sure you don’t get any nightmares, he’ll share his food, he’ll even let you wake him up for dumb things without getting mad at you.

______

I didn’t have many ideas for the rest. I had some for Mammon, but nowhere near as many as for these three. I might add the Mammon ideas as a short bonus later, if I have the energy or any more inspiration.

[lakesbian]

twig faq to answer all of the asks i got regarding my liveblog

Q: holy shit twig turned out bad huh A: yeah

Q: should i read twig? A: no. it's bad

Q: what about the parts of twig that were good though? i noticed that there were parts of twig that seemed awesome before everything suddenly exploded A: okay let me elaborate. the first ~13 arcs of twig are really really endearing when they're focusing on the lambs. when they're being about the lambs, they range anywhere from "cute" to "extremely fun" to "genuinely super compelling" to "shit that made me cry (positive)." we have high points such as:

12yo sylvester lambsbridge fumbles 3 people with crushes on him harder than anyone's ever fumbled in their life in the span of like 7 hours maximum

sylvester lambsbridge does transhet biopunk brokeback mountain

wildbow writes rose thorburn but if she were a hardass trans girl (she's the one doing transhet biopunk brokeback mountain with sy)

gordon dies and lillian copes by taking some of sy's drug that gives him turbo-adhd

helen is there

sylvester lambsbridge experiences what i earnestly believe to be one of the cruelest things wildbow has ever done to any of his protagonists

lots of other stuff, i'm abbreviating here

but the reason i say the first ~13 arcs of twig are good when they're focusing on the lambs is that twig is prone to slogging, strikingly mediocre fight scenes--sy can't fight for Shit, but wildbow still insists on describing, like, sylvester trying & failing to hit someone with a wooden plank with the same gratuitous, lengthy detail as taylor inventing a spider-based saw trap for someone. and unlike the spider-based saw trap, it's not interesting to read about. the arcs take an episodic format, and what this means is that virtually every arc goes on way too long, contains at minimum 40% more tediously detailed fight scenes than are actually necessary, and then leaves you feeling jarred when wildbow inevitably timeskips to the next arc just as the prior one was really getting into the emotional swing of things. i also have a (quite possibly subjective?) sense that twig wasn't as well-developed and thought-out as, e.g., pact, and oftentimes the setting conceit (1900s biopunk frankenstein-y british empire) doesn't feel like it's hitting quite as hard as it should.

for all of these reasons, i wouldn't have rated the first ~13 arcs of twig any more generously than in the 3.5-4 star range while i was reading them, but that's still an overall rating of good. i wouldn't still be thinking about some of the things from the first ~13 arcs of twig if they weren't overall good. if all of twig was the same quality as the first ~13 arcs, i would recommend it to people who i feel like could tolerate the pacing issues & would feel reading about the lambs was worth it.

but. BUT. BUT-

Q: so, twig turns out really bad, huh? what went wrong? A:

it is not all the same quality as the first 13 arcs. it turns out really bad the last 7 arcs are actually atrocious

the first thing that comes to mind if you ask me "what went wrong with twig" is that wildbow tries to write a trans woman as one of the main characters, and he does it badly. miss jessie ewesmont, my new favorite girl whom we need to get the fuck out of a wildbow novel. i think she was written extremely well--and in fact one of the top 2 characters in the book--prior to wildbow trying to handle her coming out. i'd even say the foreshadowing for it was perfectly well done and enjoyable. but after she comes out, during the last 7 arcs of the book?

you know how trans women are often victims of being treated as undervalued, disposable girlfriends, who are expected to coddle & cater to their partner's every whim while receiving effectively nothing in return? and you know how trans women are often treated as if they should be grateful for receiving (what is often less than) the literal bare minimum? and you know how trans women are frequently treated as if it's completely implausible for anyone to find them genuinely attracted or desirable, let alone worth pursuing or putting effort into?

yeah, the last 7 arcs of twig contain untold tens of thousands of words of wildbow reinventing all of that from first principles. this is a subjective experience, but it genuinely felt worse to read than amy dallon. at one point, the Disposable Trans Girlfriend in question literally says "i appreciate you not killing me" after she gets stabbed in her sleep by her boyfriend, sylvester. it's beyond parody. i've never said "WE HAVE TO HIT WILDBOW WITH HAMMERS" more in my goddamned life than while reading the last 7 arcs of twig. Transmisogyny Fucking City. it's a completely unforgivable and miserable reading experience.

and speaking of unforgivable and miserable reading experiences involving bigoted handling of a main character...onto Item No. 2 on the list of writing decisions that ruin twig! the ableism.

wildbow wants all of the lambs to--due to being ill-fated human experiments--have set expiration dates. one of the Main Points hanging over the entire narrative of twig is that every single lamb is, in all likelihood, going to die of complications from the way they've been experimented on before they're even twenty. two of them do die from those complications before the story is even halfway over: jamie's entire mind & sense of being is regularly taken out of his body, and one day, the doctors can't get it back in. gordon is a ~15yo with the heart problems of an elderly man, and they kill him while he's still young enough to make one of his last acts begging to see his dog one last time. it's good. it's tragic, it's interesting.

the problem is that wildbow's decision for how to depict sylvester starting to experience end-stage complications is to...turn sy into an ableist horror movie trope villain. sy hears The Devil telling him to kill his friends, and he just fuckin' blacks out and then comes to like "oh no...what's all this blood on my hands." i'm talking "mental illness is a Demon that can Possess You and make you an Evil Serial Killer" levels of ableist writing. like wildbow straight up turns sy into the joker from the movie joker. it's like that one "insaaaaynenene....assyyylum..... cray-ay-zeee...Insaayne" tiktok, you know the one. it's why he stabs his disposable trans girlfriend.

and it's baffling because: 1. wildbow wrote worm. you'd expect better from him when it comes to writing mental illness. but his skills apparently stop short of being able to depict a character with psychosis without making it cartoonishly ableist. but also, 2., sy doesn't only start becoming mentally ill at the end of arc 13! the previous arcs do very clearly establish that he's extremely codependent with the other lambs and needs continuous support to avoid experiencing life-threatening mental health episodes. he experiences dissociation, he struggles with severe memory loss, he acts erratically, he has self-injurious tendencies, he hallucinates, he talks to himself in public. prior to the start of arc 14, all of that is written with perfectly amenable levels of nuance and empathy towards sy. i wouldn't describe it as glowing representation, or anything, but it's by no means egregious.

but after arc 13? change of plans. now he's the joker from the movie joker, and we have to watch while his friends chain him to an armchair so he doesn't go around randomly cutting peoples hands off in a murderous fugue state.

it's bad. it's extremely bad to read.

the third item regarding how/why twig becomes terrible is a lot more simple to summarize: it becomes almost entirely about the previously mentioned sloggy fight scenes as opposed to about the lambs. and when it is about the lambs, it's often terrible to read anyway, due to the aforementioned issues with the handling of protagonist sylvester lambsbridge and his disposable trans gf. the plot becomes incoherent and uninteresting to the point where it's not even worth the effort of attempting to summarize how or why. everything that made twig good more or less entirely disappears from the story, and things that make it fucking awful are added.

Q: okay but lets say i have something unfixably wrong with me and i want to read twig anyway. wheres the best stopping point? arc 13? A: yeah it's arc 13. it's not a satisfying stopping point at all though. nor is the rest of twig prior to it really worth it. just don't waste your time. go read a good book, like pact, instead

Q: what the fuck is up with helen? A: :)

[angelforstyles]

Lonely (together) Chapter One

Lillian’s POV

My stomach hurts, I should eat something, but I can’t move. I can’t open my eyes, I took painkillers, but I still feel the pain come and go in sync with my heartbeat. I have a migraine every month routine, and if i was very stressed every two weeks for four days. That life, right? My phone is buzzing, and it’s making me feel sick. Shit, I try to reach the bathroom,just two more steps. Done. Throwing up with tears all over my cheeks. So dizzy, i stayed for fifteen minutes than wash my face. Simple tasks just do it. Return to my bed, then incoming call. Jolly, one of my best friends. Answer, don’t. I pick up. “Haaayyy, you didn’t answer, are you in?” What she’s talking about, her voice makes my head hurt more. “What?" “Damn girl, are you sick?” "No, just woke up." “Great, we’re going to celebrate with no occasion, coming right?” “I don’t think i feel good. Sorry, Joll," “please? Been while since we've all been free." “Sorry, I can't, my period coming I don't feel very good” , “shit sorry, do you need me to came?” “No i got it, thanks though”, “i love you if you need me just text me okay?” “Okay” “promise?” “Promise, have fun”.

My phone fell from my hand. My eyes hurt, and I’m so hungry. I set up until I can stand I walk to the kitchen, pull a water bottle, and drink it. It’s Friday, and I have to go work tomorrow. I already took two days off. I eat leftover pasta. Disgusting, since when has this been in the fridge? I went back to sleep. Tomorrow the headache should be less painful.

I woke up with a painful body. Did I kill someone in my past life, and I’m being punished? Already got my period and my stomach hurting; the headache seems gone, but my body is hurting "uugghhh.” I need to go to work I can’t skip three days straight. I took some painkillers. Shower, dressing, crying. My chest hurts from crying. It’s fine, just a couple hours. I put on concealer; nobody wants to see Banda at work; my hair is already dry. I don’t want to wear a lot of makeup so I can sleep faster when I come back. I need coffee or I will die. I have no coffee at home and need to buy it. Put shoes on “just couple hours hold it.” I wore comfy pants and a hoodie. It’s Jun, but damn, I'm so cold. Live in D.C. and wear hoodies? Crazy.

I work at the newspaper and do nothing at the same time, they don’t use what I write but keep me writing, stupid. I walk it’s just 20 minutes walking. I could use some fresh air. My head hurts a little, not much, but my body is killing me. I need to find stronger pills.

Slow day, and I hate it. I went to buy some groceries, and I need to eat. I feel like I’m going to faint. I grab grips, strawberries, berries, slices of bread, cereal, milk, pasta, and heavy cream. I need to come back for water and coffee. I opened my apartment door, put them, and went out again to grab coffee and water. I can’t make anything at home; I’m so tired, and I can’t eat something heavy now. I stopped and think a bit. I just don’t know what I want to eat. I give up and go back home. I took a water bottle and went to my room to wash my body, face, and wear panties and a t-shirt. Trying to sleep since I couldn’t think of something to eat. I feel a little safe, my tears so hot on my face. My chest hurts so bad. I don’t know why I have to live like that; there is no purpose to live now. I graduated college this summer. I moved to a new apartment. I have friends when I never thought I would. But I still feel nothing but pain. I can’t even contact people properly without freaking out and want to cry and hide. I still got panic attacks. I still have nightmares. I will never be normal. I’ve never been one.

Something grabs my hand and covers my mouth; I can’t see it, i can’t scream. It hurts, but I don’t know where.

"Angel, help me.” I try to move. I need to help my sister; she’s in danger. "Angel, please, it hurts me. Help me.” I need to tell her to run. I need to—I wake up in heavy breathing with a little scream. I couldn’t help her, and now she’s gone. "No, no, no, please," I hug my pillow and cry harder. I need my inhaler. I need it. I can’t breathe. I tried to find it, but it’s too dark, and I am crying. I opened the flashlight, and I inhaled, one, two. Breath breath. I looked at my phone. It’s just 7:18. When did I come home? I only slept two hours. I got up and washed my face. I pull the sheets out; I need to refresh. My bed looks painful on the eyes; I put them in the washing machine. I heated the milk and put cereal. I need something and I can’t figure it out. I eat on the couch and I'm still crying. I heard my phone I get up to my room. The girls are going out to have dinner. Unusual. Should I go? I need to go out; it’s been three weeks since I got somewhere else, then work and grocery.

Jolly : I’m hungry and still have energy to eat out, let eat together

Meiie : I’m free too!!! Let’s go

Jolly : anyone else?

Sarah : YES, I need distraction

Amielia : I’m sooo in

Me : I’m in too.

Jolly : location.

I return to the couch grab the cereal and eat it. My apartment is just a one bedroom and living room with an open kitchen. I need my privacy even when the rent is a bit expensive. I graduated, Jolly and Amielia took house and lived with each other next to Meiie and her boyfriend. Sarah too lives with her boyfriend. They told me to move with them but I couldn’t live with anyone anymore. We were roommates in college. Basically i moved with them when they already on their second year. They were already friends so i felt out of the place all the time. It was just a month then they invite me whenever something happens. Until we become friends. I graduated early. I took summer classes because there is nowhere to go and I have no place to stay in the summer except the camp.

I decided what i wanted to wear, black shorts and a red tight t-shirt. I looked at the mirror. “What..” white pale skin, high cheekbones, sleepy blue eyes, my dimples are slightly visible since I’m not smiling, it’s been a while since I saw them, fully pale pink lips and so black so long curly hair with a bang around my face. but since when is my body that skinny? I don’t eat much but there is no way i look that horrible. I change to black buggy pants and white long sleeve shirt. This is better. Concealer and blush and gloss. I wanna put eyeliner on but i have no energy to take it off. I wore high heels and took my red bag, i put napkins, gloss, powder, inhaler, and knife. I feel unsafe, just in case. The restaurant 15 minutes. Good. I arrived at 9:15. Good.

The girls already have drinks, and the boyfriends are there too. Amielia’s boyfriend is Rayan, her brother's best friend. Jolly’s boyfriend is Jack Amielia’s brother. Mess. There was a war between them but they made it. Sharah’s boyfriend, William. And never forget Meiie with her boyfriend Loca, he’s Rayan’s and William's friend.

All of them businessmen except Jack working with his father. They are so rich and powerful. Make my stomach shiver. I wish I could be that independent. I slowly walk to the table. I want to go home. I love them, but there are a lot of people on the table I want to throw up. “Hiiii finally, I thought you would never come,” Amie said while she’s hugging me. No, please don’t touch me. So close. “I said I’m coming.” Sarah hugged me too. “She’s joking, baby.” Sarah always brings me back to reality. “I miss you; it’s been ages since we saw you,” Meiie said. Jolly, hold my shoulders and look at me in the eyes. “How are you feeling now?” “I’m good, don’t worry, thanks.” I’m not good at all, and I want to cry. She hugged me so hard, and I think she can feel my heart beat going crazy. I smiled at the men. They all in their early 30s except Jack, who’s 29? I set between Joll and Am.

“Wanna order a drink first?” I don’t drink, but Joll always asks me like the answer is going to change. “No, food." "Yeah, let’s order. My palms sweating, I don’t know what to order, and I don’t think I can even eat. my turn so soon. “I want pasta,” my voice so low. "What, Ms?.” “Pasta,“ I said so loudly. I don’t think it was loud, but I don’t ever raise my voice; I think I always mumbled. I’m not sure what the normal voice is. “Anything else, Lillian?” Joll voice pulls me out of my head. “Huh?” “He asked you, do you want anything else?” “N-no thanks” “drink?” The waiter asked me, and I shook my head no. I need my bed. I want to hide. I want to cry. “You okay?” Sarah asked me. No, “Yeah, I need the restroom.” I push back my chair, I need to close my eyes, they hurt. I lock the door. I can’t cry. I supposed to be having fun. Why am I always like that? I set in the ground while my back was on the door. I heard a soft knock on the door. "Busy,” my voice shaking. “It’s me" Am voice. “give me a minute.” I washed my hands, put some powder under my eyes, took a deep breath, and opened the door. “Hey baby,” why do they always call me baby? I hate it. “Hi, you okay?” I asked, “Yeah, wanna make sure you okay?" “I’m, don’t worry, let’s go back.”

We get back to the table. I don’t really know what they are talking about, but I smile and shake my head until the food arrives. "Liliy,” Ame calls me, “hm?” “How is the work going?” All the eyes on me, silent. Why are they looking at me? I can’t talk shit. “Um” I smiled and shook my head. Yes, what the hell is that? "Good,” my eyes on my food. “is there drama?” Joll now, "hmm,” shook my head no. Can’t you talk? weak. Stop please. My head plays games with me at the wrong time. “Have you seen a cute guy? If not, you know there is blind date” Sarah said and winked. Nooo, I don’t want anything blind. “No, and no thanks." I love them, and I’m happy for them. in 23 and fond the one? Wow. I’m 21 but still never ever date anyone. A lot of reasons, number one: boys love and like my look, but when they try to talk to me, I run. Yes, I physically run. The girls know I never dated anyone, and they are trying with me to make my love life exciting. But I am so scared and can’t trust anyone except myself and the four girls at this table.

“Maybe you are lesbian." Joll said, “I’m not,"  “we will love you always. You have my word.” Sarah now said, “I. am. not." I really don’t know why they always push me with that. “Okay, but if you want someone, tell me, and we will help you get him,” Mia said. "Okay,” I mumbled, wanting to end the conversation. They get into another conversation. I have never wanted someone else more than the charming characters in my books. I will give anything to have one of them I’m basically in love with them. I always swim in my book’s world and put myself in a really unenviable state of mind, it’s makes me float and cry and laugh like I’m really living in the book. Wired. My head is always telling me that it must be true. “Why you’re not eating?” Ame said. Shit, I forgot I’m even out of my apartment. “Wait for the food to get a bit cold,” seriously? “I think it’s so cold now. Do you want to order another?” What no, I can’t afford it. "No, it’s fine." I eat a little and almost throw it up. What's wrong with me? It’s just pasta. I love pasta. I ate a little more, but I couldn’t make it to the half. We paid and said goodbye, and I walked home. A year ago, there were stalker who always sent me messages about how close he is and how I would fit perfectly with him. I was living with the girls, so one day someone tried to come inside our room, and the police came and arrested him. I couldn’t sleep for days, and when I slept, I was getting nightmares. So since then I can’t walk normally without looking like a choked cat. I arrived at my apartment. Go to sleep.

I couldn’t sleep, so I took my sketchbook and I drew some butterflies and raver. Always wanted to live around a raver away from the city. I came from London, I didn’t want to stay there, it makes me sad and scared.

I finished and took a book I already read, but I need to do something since I can’t sleep. It’s 4:30 and I need to go to work by 9. Long time to waste. I opened Amazon to order some books, but why don't I go and buy them? “Tomorrow after work” Okay. Okay. I need time to sleep. I went to work, I went to buy books, and now it's 9:30 and I’m dying to sleep, but too scared. How can I?. I went to bed eventually. I wish I sleep in peace.

“Leave my hands, Angel, please. I have to go."  “Please stop doing this, Hop. I need you” I said, and I can’t see anything. “He will stop doing that to us if I do that” she dropped my hands. "No, please, Hop Please” I wake up screaming and sweating. “Why” I cry while I hug my pillow. I need her, and I can’t reach her.

I get up, wash my body, and face drink coffee with chocolate. Get ready to go to work. Simple task.

Shit day at work, I walk for an hour. I don’t want to go home yet. I need to breathe, and I can't. There is something in my chest, and if I keep mys—ugh, that hurts. What the hell? Something hit my shoulder. "Oh, sorry, I’m really sorry, are you okay?” British accent? What if someone fallsows me from there? I need to run. I didn’t look up, I just needed to run. I started breathing heavily, but I couldn’t move. “Are you okay?" No, I don’t know that voice. I looked up and saw the prettiest eyes, green eyes, pink lips, beautiful noise, and long brown curls. Breathtaking. “You look pale, are you okay?” He’s an Ang—no, no, no one an Angel. "Yes, sorry” I say. “Can I ask you something?” He said while he’s fallowing me, What if someone sent him to kill me? I opened my bag and held the knife. “Please?” I turned around and stopped. “Who sent you?” “What?” “Who?” my eyes full of tears. “No one? I just wanted to apologize and ask you about your name, you look familiar."  He knows me shit. “I’m not” "what’s your name?” "what's yours?"  "Harry.” I looked at him, but no, I definitely don’t know him. He looks like a dream, gorgeous and tall, and my neck hurts because I’m looking up. "Lillian” I mumbled, “beautiful name.” Yes i chose it. He’s so beautiful i wanna touch his cheeks and sketch his face.

I looked down, he was wearing a black suit and black shirt unbuttoned from his chest a bit down. There are tattoos peeking, but my tears make my vision blurry. I turned and walked. I actually ran until I arrived at my apartment. I opened the building door, small hallway, stairs, then my apartment. I set on the stairs with my head on my hands and crying without a voice.

There is no one else in this building, I don’t know why. Meiie's boyfriend rents it to me. Luca tells Meiie I go to his office and sign whatever. It was crowded (wasn't)—maybe 8 men? Don't know. I literally interrupted a meeting in Luca's office, I didn’t look around, I was terrified. Luca told me to wait outside, then he sent someone to hand me the papers that I couldn’t read because of my tears. I take pictures of it though.

Good job embarrassing yourself.

I opened the door and looked around. Is there someone else here? I have my knife in my hand, and I look around. Nothing. Just the bathroom know, I opened it and looked around, nothing, the bathtub, nothing. I stripped, opened the hot water, got inside, and cried myself until I felt my head start hurting and my vision so blurry. I went out, put on some lotion, did my hair, and wore panties and a t-shirt. Eat pancakes and drink coffee. Its just 7 p.m. I went to bed even though I’m not sleeping.

Harry’s POV

I open my eyes to turn off the alarm, wash my face, I don't bother getting dressed except for my underwear, I go for a run around my house in the garden for an hour, shower, breakfast, get ready, go to my first meeting of the day with Loca, I own a security company and everyone in the meeting even Loca is waiting for me to provide security for their next deal, it's not the first time I do it but it will be a good return for the company (not that I want more money I have enough to buy half the earth), I park my car in the parking lot, I go to Loca's office, I really don't want to be here all I want is my office. I open the door and they are waiting for me. Loca tells his assistant not to interrupt the meeting.

They start the meeting and I am just there to listen without participating. Suddenly the door opens and silence falls in the office, all eyes are on the door because no one opens the door of a CEO's office like that let's be honest. White shoes with pink socks, shorts that reach halfway down the thighs, and trembling hands holding the red bag as if it were the only source of oxygen, a red top with a jacket? It is the middle of May, tired eyes filled with tears, she did not look at anyone in the room except Loca, for a moment I thought she was Loca's girlfriend but he shouted at her to wait outside. The meeting ended and they all left. "So this is the girlfriend huh" i said.

"Her best friend", "why in earth your girlfriend's best friend coming to you crying" i said dryly. "I think her eyes always like that. She needs a place and I'm renting her my old building, Meie asked me to rent it to her." He said looking in my eyes.

"Doing good things" i said then i got up and took the elevator. I drove to my office and couldn't stop thinking about her.

It's 6 pm and I didn't get out my office. The picture of her all over my head. It's been a week and i still couldn't take her out of my mind and there is just an idea flying around my head and I couldn't not catch it. I start digging about the girl. Her name Lilian Halford. No middle name nothing before age 18 not even one information. My head hurts l've never ever not found what I want. She studied English literature, worked three jobs at one time for two years, took a summer school and finished early. No relatives. No social media accounts. No personal public photos not even in her friends accounts. Never traveled just one time and it was from London to D.C. at 18.

"What the fuck" my head in my hands I can't find anything else. I went home but couldn't sleep. I need to see her again or my head gone explode if i keep thinking of her.

After two weeks of trying to find any information i went into some Files from the British government, it was the only thing left to me to try since she's coming from London.

My hands sweating, it 2 am and I'm at the couch, took me 6 hours to have access to those files. I typed her name, there is her name— "what? No way" her real name or old name Angel Jezebel Rose, her father.. everyone knows her father. The one who killed his wife and his little boy then shot a bullate on his head and left his 18 year old son with two 13 year old girls. That was all over the news back then. "Went to fosters?" When she turned 16 went to foster, not that but her big brother and twin sister died? Her brother overdosed and her sister— "shit shit shit" my eyes hurt I didn't notice that my tears were falling.

"What the fuck" I can't keep looking my chest hurts. I tried to sleep but i couldn't. It's 6 am and I'm still up, I opened my laptop and looked again. Her parents were addicted and she had three siblings, her parents were arrested for assaulting their children, twice. There are photos? Shit / can't click on it.. no I can't no. i did. A little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes her face was red from crying with bruises all over her, the other picture was a little girl— my chest hurts so much how can I kill somebody already dead? A black hair with bruises on her face, chest, neck brace, and broken arm. The record says the blonde girl who called Hop was getting insulted by her father and her mother for no reason, when the black hair girl who called Angel tried to defend her sister. The sister hid and called the police,

the other girl kept getting beaten by her parents. The girls were 9 years old, and the mother was pregnant, both the parents were using drugs for 24/7. The police released them after they signed a pledge. I closed my laptop and walked around the living room. I need something strong to drink, i looked at the clock but it's 7 am i will go for a run.

It's 9:15 and I'm in my office i need to sleep and work. But I can't stop thinking of her and I can't work, i pulled her location and drove to. I sit in the car in the front street. The building door opens, and there she is. So beautiful face with black long waves and curls, hoodie and black pants. "Who the fuck wore hoodies in the middle of summer?" Her face looks so delicious to touch and kiss— "what the fuck I'm thinking of" she looks around then walks, stops in front of coffee shop but she didn't go inside, she start biting her lip, and look down to her shoes.

She walks and stops again and looks at the coffee shop again.

So fucking cute, she walked again then stopped and looked back and got inside the coffee shop "finally wasn't so hard to decide whether to take or not a fucking cup of coffee" she starts running until she stopped in front of her work building.

I stayed in my car until 3 pm, I want my bed so bad. she come out and walking to grocery store then to her apartment, she stumbled and fell on her ass, got up and turned around to clean her pants but her face was full of tears, and my heart sank i wanna hold her.

I'm in the middle of fucking business dinner and i wanna sleep,

"so Harry, have you looked at my new offer?" No i was looking at my girl. " yes and I don't like it's, if you need my protection you gonna give me what i want" I didn't even bother asking what his offer was. And what the fuck with my girl? Really?

Two weeks later, I couldn't hold myself back, I want her now.

Trying to keep everything normal as I followed her after her work, I didn't plan to hit her shoulder that hard but her body was too delicate for my touch. Her face was filled with fear, it made my stomach flip and regret rise up inside me. She even thought that someone sent me? Is someone following her? It wasn't the first time so she was asking me if I was sent by someone?

Please tell me what you think :3

[karalovesallthegirls]

Some Q's for youuu:

8. How slow is a slow burn? 🕒

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it. 📝

22. What is it about watching the same two idiots falling in love over and over again? 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing? 🤓

30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't. 🪦🙀

I appreciate your dedication using the emojis, they enhanced the experience greatly!!!!

8. How slow is a slow burn? 🕒 

The hottest slow burn 2 me is one where they can barely even make eye contact for a solid 15k, let alone touch lips. I want them to go through every possible option and do every possible thing to avoid getting together for so long they’re practically pulling their hair out in the frustration of it. Their desperation for each other needs to be so unbearable that they truly genuinely lose their minds, and they then need to stay apart for a little while after that.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it. 📝 “Alien…” she whispers, eyes wide with a terror so painfully familiar to Kara. “Oh, God.” “Miss Luthor, I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I just need the hard drive. That’s all," Kara says.

She tries to keep a soothing tone, but she’s so tired of this. She wants to be done. She’s so close to being done, too. The Luthor's eyes are intense and focused, studying Kara back just as deeply as Kara studies her. She’s beautiful, Kara thinks, and she’s scared. Everyone is always scared of the alien. The woman holds the device out with one hand and Kara can see the slight shake to it. “You won’t hurt me?” she asks again, and Kara smiles. “I promise,” Kara says. She grabs the drive but feels some resistance as she tugs. The other woman isn’t letting go. Kara looks at her again to find her smiling. “Funny,” Lena Luthor says. “Because I’m going to hurt you.” Kara’s head whips back with the force of the hit, blood splattering from her mouth as she falls.

22. What is it about watching the same two idiots falling in love over and over again? 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

For me I fucking LOVE a multiverse like what do you mean they will find each other in every form, in every world, in every time??? What do you MEAN if there’s a version of one that exists the other must be elsewhere waiting for the chance and not knowing it?? What do you MEAN quantum entanglement?????

28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing? 🤓

Don’t try to write it correctly the first round, just get material on the page. 

Write out your story concepts like you’re writing a transcript of your brain. You’re not editing or correcting or explaining meaning, just conveying exactly what is there as it is. My preferred method is just a big stream of conscious paragraph with no punctuations and often times looks like I’m describing drama to a friend via text - “[…] and then Lena was like Lex what the fuck!!!!!! bitch!!!!! and then Kara freaks out and grabs […] - and then just leave it for a little while. Come back to it later and divide them up into fragmented sentences and concepts and build from there. When I spend ages trying to think of the right way to write out my ideas more often than not I find I’ve written nothing, and the things left unwritten have faded away from my memory like they’d never been there at all.

30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't. 🪦🙀

I have a fic concept I flirt with sometimes where Lena is head of security for Luthor Corp distribution, which handles art and artifacts for hundreds of museums around the world, and she is forced to handle the chaos of some masked thief that keeps stealing things and returning them to their original cultures. Lillian is breathing down her neck to fix this, but no one ever seems able to even get more than a glimpse of the crook - until Lena does. 

And Lena realizes three things when she finally sees the masked Robin Hood rip-off:

1.) the thief is a woman, and somehow able to handle such massive robberies alone.

2.) The thief gets sloppy when Lena is there, nervous and bumbling and chatty. She acts like she’s never seen a pretty girl before. Like she wants to impress Lena just as much as rob her.

3.) Lena might not be able to stop the robberies with her wit, but she sure as hell can with her tits.

[autisticlenaluthor]

Twilight

Lena often thinks her real life is somewhere else far away. Sure, physically, she exists in her body. She can see and touch and experience all the other senses that supposedly make her whole. But for as long as she can remember, she’s had the strongest feeling that the real Lena is out there somewhere else. And while this one watches the rest of the world through her glass box and foggy goggles, the woman she’s supposed to be thrives in another existence. Maybe even another timeline. 

This other life isn’t something Lena looks for– it isn’t something that can be revealed through tireless searching. When Lena tries, it only seems to grow further away.

So she chooses to believe that one day, they will step into each other and the box will break. She’ll become real and whole, and the fog will be gone and her new life will start. The life she’s always been meant to have. 

In the bleak hours of twilight, Lena finds herself the closest she’s ever been to shattering that barrier.

In high school, Lena used to tell herself that longer she stayed awake, the longer it would take for the next day to come. She needed to savor the times that weren’t consumed by the energy it took to mask at school or locked in the upstairs bathroom to avoid Lillian’s resentment. And that could only happen when the rest of the world was asleep.

Night was her safe haven.

Darkness expects nothing of no one. She didn't have to be presentable or restrained she could just... be.

At night, the requirements that had been forced upon her since the ripe age of four are momentarily lifted because nobody’s that put together when it’s three in the morning and they haven’t slept in almost as many days.

Sleep, on the other hand, felt like pressing fast forward on existence. 

Lena’s head would hit the pillow and in an instant, the cycle would start back up again. 

She’d wake up. Get dressed. Get coffee. Go to school. Skip lunch to complete homework. Study during her free period. Get ahead on extra credit during study hall. Stay late for chess club Wednesdays and Fridays. Stay late for fencing on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Go home and hope the mansion would be empty when she arrived. Drink more coffee. Study for upcoming exams. Eat dinner (or not). Work on college essays. Even more coffee. Brush teeth. Sleep. Repeat.

The cycle couldn’t be broken but the beginning of a new day could be prolonged. And at sixteen-years-old with no real freedom, time was the most finite resource Lena had. 

The night was Lena’s out and it was embarrassingly easy to become addicted to it’s reprive. 

Lena’s late nights transitioned from her childhood bedroom, to her university dorm, to her first apartment, to the hotel she lives out of in National City for three months. Eventually, they land in the basement of L Corp, where her favorite place in the entire world sits – her personal lab.

Lena spends more hours down there than she can count.

She does everything from experimentation on different substances to developing plans for high tech militant weapons. She picks apart and studies Lex’s old devices and spitefully finds ways to improve them (oh, how he would hate if he knew his little sister had been the one to fix the flaws he hadn’t accounted for).

Some nights she even finds herself going back to her Metropolis roots of trying to cure cancer out of a garage with Jack Spheer. She reads through medical journals when she’s looking for more mental stimulation than physical, and writes up lists of her own hypotheses and ideas. Clinical trials could be built around her midnight endeavors, if Lena would ever let anyone read her work. 

At night, Lena thrives. She gets so close to this other world that at times, she thinks if she pushed just a little harder, she’d finally be able to break the seal.

But then there are the nights where it’s never felt further away. 

Those nights come after soul sucking days where Lena spends every minute forced to be on. They come from masking more than she can handle, until she feels like she might physically burst from the tension. They leave her feeling like a shell of herself, like her capacity for being alive has dropped to zero. 

Lena only tries to explain it once. Sam can tell something’s wrong so Lena does the thing most unlike herself and confides in her. It’s the only time she ever says it out loud.

Really, Lena doesn’t know what she was expecting– maybe reassurance that her struggle is real and that her burn out is enough. But instead, Sam tells her she gets it. She gets exhausted too from the long days and crashes hard after sitting in a board room with executives and other titles for hours on end. 

It’s in good faith but it makes Lena feel even worse. Because she doesn’t get it– not really. Sam may struggle, but Lena is autistic. She’s speech loss and shut down, ugly stimming, and violent meltdowns autistic. She's 'can only eat five foods because of ARFID', prolonged burn out, sleep deprived, and insomniac autistic. 

And god, there’s nothing more isolating than knowing that no matter how hard they try, her friends will never be able to ‘get it’ when she tells them she’s having a hard time. 

Those are the nights where to Lena, doing anything substantial feels entirely inconceivable. But the routine can’t be broken. So she stops by Noonans for an iced coffee and safe food dinner of Uncrustables that she can eat on the laboratory floor. Because sometimes all it takes to feel okay is to be surrounded by her special interests, even if she can’t interact with them. 

She's tapping her fingers, trying to block out the sound of the buzzing overhead lights, when she finds Kara standing in the pick-up spot parallel to her. Lena isn’t sure what time it is but the sky outside is black and the coffee shop is empty. All she knows is t's way too late for Kara "It starts at 10? That's when I go to bed" Danvers.

Kara smiles when she spots her. 

“Hey! What are you doing here? I thought all the big CEOs sent their assistants out for coffee runs,” she jokes. 

For a split second, Lena manages to smile back at her. It's small and fleeting but it's there. Her first real one in days.

“I sent Jess home hours ago,” she replies. “It wouldn’t be fair to subject her to my all-nighters.” 

Lena pauses when the barista approaches the counter to hand Kara her drink. 

“Why are you still up?” She asks after a moment. “Snapper torturing you again?”  

Kara shrugs and gives a light laugh

 “No, Snapper’s been surprisingly okay recently. I just stayed late to finish some stuff up. I’m done now but I wanted to get myself a little reward.”  

She sips at her drink, grinning when she sees Lena’s confused expression. 

“It’s hot chocolate– no caffeine for me.”

Lena hums. Before she can say anything else, her large iced black coffee is placed on the counter in front of her. Her cheeks flush red and for whatever reason, all she can feel is pure shame at the sight of it. 

This isn’t normal. She isn’t normal. And there’s no way Kara doesn’t feel it too.

But Kara doesn’t judge. She doesn’t chastise Lena’s choices or go on about how it’s so unhealthy to have caffeine so late and how she should know better by now.

Instead, she says “are you going back to the office? I can walk with you.” 

Of course, Lena accepts.

They walk together in silence. It doesn’t feel awkward– there isn’t an expectation to fill the gaps. It’s just the two of them. They’re side by side and in that moment, neither of them need anything more. 

When they arrive at L Corp, Lena brings Kara inside with her.

They skip security and stop at the elevator. Lena pulls out her ID card but she doesn’t scan it. She looks at Kara and shifts her weight between her heels.

“Would you like to come down with me?” She asks. 

“Down?” 

“My lab… it’s in the basement.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t have to. I wouldn’t put you to work or anything– I was just going to sit on the floor and have dinner. If you’d like to do that with me.” 

Kara can’t help but chuckle at Lena’s phrasing. Her best friend, who can’t touch the buttons on public elevators without putting a tissue over her thumb, relaxes by eating her dinner on the basement floor.

The contrast is stark yet endearing. And as strange as it sounds, Kara cant think of a better way to spend her night. 

They spend the next hour sitting in a corner, backs up against the wall, eating grape uncrustables, vending machine chips, and Oreos. Kara tells Lena about her day, making sure she knows she doesn’t have to respond if she isn’t up to speaking. And as they drink their respective beverages, Kara goes on about how incredible Lena’s lab is– how nice it was of her to share it.  

It feels good. It feels calming. Lena’s surrounded by her favorite things, eating her safe foods, with her best friend, who upholds none of the social barriers she struggles with so much.

By the time they’re done– it’s nearly two in the morning.

“Gosh, I’m tired,” Kara says, smiling dreamily. She yawns and looks over at Lena. “Are you?” 

Lena just shrugs. She is. She always is. But right now, the last place she wants to be is her empty penthouse. 

“We both need sleep,” Kara adds. She slouches into the wall and sighs. “But my loft is so far. And I don’t want to leave you. Why is everything so unfair?” 

Softly, Lena laughs. 

“You could come to my place,” she suggests, her voice small and apprehensive. “If you’d like. I- I think it would be nice to… not be alone for a bit.” 

“Really?” Kara asks. 

Lena nods. “Really.”

"I'd love that!"

Lena smiles. For the first time in years, the thought of going to sleep doesn't feel all that daunting.

[inkedroplets]

⭐star⭐

This has been staring at me from my inbox for weeks now and I'm so so sorry for only getting to it now. I'm pretty sure this was for the director's cut ask. This is from "Until the Road Runs Out" and it's one of my favorite interactions just because I don't get to write Kara and Lillian together all that often.

When she touched back down in front of the gate surrounding the jail, she was startled when it began to slide open jerkily as if her arrival had set off a motion alarm. There was a rusted whine that bleated out from whatever mechanism operated the gate that abated and she saw Lillian Luthor step through the opening that had appeared.  “Please don’t tell me you’ve been standing out here like a lovesick teenager?” She made a clucking sound with her tongue. “ This imbroglio is entirely your fault,” Lillian said, looking back at Kara with a look of disdain that she was accustomed to but for the first time felt entirely deserving of. “Yes, it is,” Kara murmured. “How is Lena?” “I think you already know.” Lillian studied her carefully and let a long silence pass between them before speaking again. “Despite Lena’s insistence on playing the martyr, I planned to secure her release today.” There was a fleeting sense of triumph followed by a cautious relief that was incredibly short-lived when she realized that Lillian was speaking in the past tense. “Planned to? What changed?” “You, Supergirl.” The poorly disguised impatience in Lillian’s voice turned a few degrees colder as if she suspected Kara of playing dumb. “I told you what would happen when Lena found out the truth. Do you remember?” “Yes,” Kara murmured, feeling strangely like she was being reprimanded. “I remember…” Initially, she had thought of what Lillian had said as a threat, a Sword of Damocles dangling precariously over her head that could fall at any time. Upon learning the way that Lena had found out her secret she had come to think of that conversation with Lillian as some ill omen that had finally come to pass. Now though, she understood what it had really been: A warning. One that she had ignored, the first of many that she had turned a blind eye to; too frightened of what she feared most becoming reality.  “She does hate you,” Lillian said, nodding thoughtfully, looking more as if she were merely thinking aloud rather than trying to twist the knife even deeper than it already was (even though hearing those words did just that.) “But she still protected you… Likely the last dying gasp of her affection for you. And that’s why she’ll need to remain here a bit longer…” “What do you mean?” Kara asked, a chill seeping into her voice. “A little more time here for her to dwell on what you’ve done and whatever love she once had for you will truly disappear and when that happens, she’ll swallow her pride and come to me for help. And then she’ll be able to put all of this foolishness behind her.” “You’re her mother,” Kara hissed, appalled that there were still depths that Lillian could sink to that could still surprise her. “If you want to hurt me… hurt me. If anyone deserves to be punished—” “I want what’s best for Lena,” Lillian said plainly, cutting her off without having to raise her voice.

Lillian is such a fascinating character to me and I really think this passage sums up Lillian in a warts and all kind of examination of her character. She absolutely does care for Lena but it's not in the way that Lena needs or deserves.

The concern she feels for her is buried so deep and masked underneath that cold primness that Lena's known all her life it might as well not be there at all. But in this scene with Kara, Lillian explains herself completely. She does want what's best for Lena (or what she thinks is best for her) but she's willing to let Lena suffer a bit more if it means severing the connection between Kara and her. And the funny thing is, I think if Lillian were kinder about it, informed Lena of her concerns, Lena would go with her willingly.

And in this scene, you get to contrast Lillian's pragmatism with Kara's need to feel punished for the part she's played and she gets exactly what she wants, but not in the way she wants. Lena is still being hurt when Kara wants all the blame (which I mean... It kind of is all her fault) It was fun to see two people with initially the same goal and set them up as the main conflict storywise going forward.

[spookyspecterino]

Confessions

Sam Coe x GN! Reader

GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions used.

Fighting, enemy death, language, confessions of love, kissing

Two short stories of times when you and Sam tell each other I love you.

So I started this with the typical canon scene in the game, tweaking it to how I would personally write it, and then said...wait, I could make something else entirely. So I wrote both. They're back to back, separated with a text divider.

This was requested by @wisperwin 😊 Hope you enjoy!

Requests for short 1K fics are open while I write out a longer fic. Send in your asks!

Sam’s favorite spot in Akila is more in the open than you imagined, it was basically a bar porch, but as soon as you sat down at a small table in the corner it felt like him. As if a tiny piece of himself lingered here. It wasn’t hard to imagine a younger version of Sam sitting and looking out at the courtyard on cool evenings just like this one, with the sun setting slowly on the horizon.

Even on your way here you noticed a difference. He seems happier, lighter on his feet. He’s taking his time with things, not rushing from task to task or place to place.

When he pulled you aside and invited you here, told you how special this place was to him, it had your heart fluttering like a small bird.

After sitting for a moment and looking out at Solomon Coe’s statue, Sam turns to you with a smile. “For the first time in a long time…I feel peaceful. Like I can just exist… and I have you to thank for that.”

“All I did was give some encouragement—you did all the hard work.” You say, shrugging sheepishly.

He smiles, shakes his head a little, “Don’t sell yourself short. It probably wasn’t easy dealing with my constant complaining about Lillian—and then actually going to meet her, and help her, and then escort her, and—”

He stops at the sound of your good-natured laugh. “You don’t have to list out everything, Sam. We might be here all night.”

“Yeah, yeah. What I’m really trying to say is thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’d do it a thousand more times if it meant seeing you this happy.”

His face softens, something in his eyes change. “Listen, there’s also this other thing I’ve been meaning to talk with you about.”

Your head tilts a little. “I’m all ears.”

Sam’s shoulders tense, he clears his throat, then takes a deep breath. “I have feelings for you—certain feelings. Feelings that I can’t really…that I don’t know how to…” He sighs, brows pinching together. “Sorry, this is hard for me.”

He shifts his weight slightly. “You know what, I’ll just say it. The truth is…I’m in love with you. I have been for a little while now.” He scoots to the edge of his chair, leaning in and placing his hands on the table. “I’ve been meaning to say something, but the timing was always off, or we were busy getting shot at.”

You can’t help but softly and breathlessly agree. “We get shot at a lot.”

“Exactly. I just uh—I needed to tell you before some other crisis inevitably came up. And I know this might be coming out of nowhere for you, I’m not—I’m not the most obvious guy.” He takes a deep breath. “So, if this is too sudden, or if you need time to think about it, or mull over your own feelings—I’m good with that. I’ll give you some space.”

His blue eyes find yours in the dim evening light. They’re uncertain, nervous. The way he holds himself, he’s trying not to fidget. He grips at the edges of the table one moment, then brings his hands up to trace his fingers along the lines in the wood top surface.

You’re caught watching his hands dance skittishly. Since you’ve met him, Sam Coe has worn the cool, calm, and stoic nature of a typical Freestar Ranger. His nervousness solidifies how seriously he’s taking this.

Without much forward thought, you reach across the table and hold his hands in yours. Maybe—once, or twice—you imagined what you might say to him if you were ever presented with this situation. But that all went out the window as soon as you started talking.

“It may be a little sudden—you’re a hard man to read sometimes—but I’m really glad you said something.” You give his hands a reassuring squeeze. “I love you too. Since NEON.”

Sam lets out a breath he’d been holding, some of it comes out in a chuckle. “Since NEON? Like, when we first got there, or when we last left—?”

“Does it really matter?” You ask, teasingly.

“Guess not. I just…now it’s my turn to be surprised. I really thought you were gonna turn me down.”

“You can’t be serious. I’ve been flirting with you so much.”

This makes him laugh. “I thought I was imagining things for a little bit, but when I started flirting back…”

“That was you flirting back?”

“Yes. I was really trying—oh, you’re teasing me, you’re having fun with this.” He shakes his head with a fond smile, leaning in too. His voice is affectionate. “Smartass from the moment I met you—knew you were trouble.”

Your faces are close now. “Ah, but you love me for it.”

“Damn right I do.” He pauses, eyes glancing down at your lips. One of his hands lets go of yours to bring your face closer, gently tugging at your chin. “Come ‘ere, you.”

He kisses you softly. Bristles tickle your face with just a brush of his lips against yours, they leave a hot trail in their wake. Searing and lingering on your skin.

Sam knows the effect he has on you, and if by some chance he didn’t before, he knows now as your breath shortens and you fight not to chase after him.

That half smile-half smirk breaks through his love-struck expression. “I love you. And later on, maybe I’ll show you just how much.”

Gunfire blasted into the metal walls around you. The sharp whizzing of bullets was much louder due to the enclosed space of the enemy ship. Crouched behind some cargo crates, you looked across the aisle to the other side of the narrow dead ended hallway. Sam leans up against his cover, also a short stack of Cargo.

He caught your eye and half-smirked. “Not looking good, is it?”

“Chances are slim, but—", you duck as a bullet whizzes past, “—but we’ve been through worse.”

He snorts, firing a few blind shots from cover. “When?”

“Oh, you know, that one time.”

“No, I don’t think I do—please, refresh my memory.”

“We were getting shot at, just like this.”

“Sweetheart—” He fires another shot but flinches back as chunks of the cargo crate fly near his face. “—that’s just about every day for us.”

“Yeah, but it was a really specific time.” You fire two shots, ducking in and out of cover. You don’t have time to count how many heads you see. “Uh, maybe like when we went to that zero-grav casino?”

“Almagest?”

“Yeah! That was definitely worse.”

“No way, we had that place cleared in 20 minutes, tops. And there was plenty of cover—” he leans, firing wide shotgun blasts in two concentrated areas “—and plenty of ammo, and we were never cornered, and—"

“—Sure.”

“What do you mean, ‘sure’? Why’d you say it like that?”

“I must have a different memory of how it went down, is all.”

He leans back against the cargo and laughs. “Are we really debating in the middle of a gun fight?”

“I’m happy to give this one to you. Really, I am.”

That made him laugh even harder. “Oh, you’re letting me win—you’re somethin’ else you know that?”

You hear a gap in enemy fire and take the opportunity to peak around. There are at least eight or nine more enemies crouched and moving around. You see the muzzles of their guns and crouch behind your cover just as their returning fire starts back up.

“Let’s say I was wrong—” He starts.

You’re quick, grin lighting up your eyes. “—is this a hypothetical? Are you doing hypotheticals now when you can’t admit you’re wrong?”

His head hangs down, you can see his shoulders bouncing. “Goddammit, you’re too funny for your own good.”

“I love making you laugh, even when we’re about to die or be captured by pirates.”

Enemy fire patters out, there’s some shouting from their end. Heavy footsteps approach. Sam readies his pistol; you pull out a knife. As soon as boots come into view, you kick the pirate’s legs. Sam fires a shot, and you sink your knife into their chest. The pirate jerks once and lies dead.

Sam straightens a little, calling out. “Hey, how ‘bout you send a few more down here! We could use the change of pace; this is starting to get old!”

The pirates immediately begin firing again.

He leans back against cover. “My point is, that if we’re in a worse position than when we were on Almagest, then these might be our final moments together.”

“Kind of a downer to start something that way but go on.”

 “I wanted to say a few ‘thank you’s, for all you’ve helped with.”

“Oh wow, is this like…your last will and testament? Are we doing that now?”

He laughs again as he leans out from cover and fires. “I’m trying to be serious here.”

You join him, firing at a pirate’s exposed leg. Your first shot clips a calf and there’s shouts of pain. Sam manages to take out a pirate that exposes themselves too soon. You both lean back into cover when Sam’s shotgun needs reloading.

“I wanted to thank you for helping me and Cora with pretty much everything. You didn’t have to, but you still did. That means a lot to me.”

“It was worth it, for you and Cora.”

Sam’s smile melts into a look of pure warmth and affection. It makes you pause, humor giving way to the gravity of the situation. He said his piece, it might be a good time to say yours. And if you end up living through this, then, you’d still have finally said what’s been on your mind for weeks.

You clear your throat, momentarily busying yourself by checking over your rifle. “And, since we’re being serious now, there’s something I wanted to tell you too.”

Somehow you feel more nervous saying this than facing the pirate firing squad behind you. When you’ve taken a deep breath, you meet his eyes. “I love you.”

You’re not sure how to read his wide-eyed expression so you just keep talking. “I don’t know exactly when it happened or when I knew for sure, but I’m head over heels for you, Sam. And if this is how we go out, then I’m just glad it’s with you.”

A gap in noise is your cue to fire. You straighten from cover, doing your best to quickly find a target. The top of a helmet is exposed. You catch a glimpse of the visor shattering as your rifle round hits. Something bumps your leg. You’re so caught off guard that you drop down, reaching for a knife.

But it’s Sam. He used your fire as cover to cross the aisle.

Before you can really say anything, he takes your face in his hands, pushes you up against the cargo, and roughly kisses you. It’s messy, a tangle of lips and rough, scratchy beard. Your teeth click together once or twice. The intense heat from his lips against yours and his hands on your face grounds you—tells you it’s real.

You’re too busy grasping at his jacket, shirt, the back of his neck—doing anything to bring him closer—that you don’t hear shouting or gunfire stop. There’s only faint recognition that new shots are being aimed somewhere else, or that it’s moving away.

It’s the ringing in your ears and the deafening silence that catches both of your attention. You each snap into action, pulling guns and whirling toward the aisle, expecting to see a pirate come into view. But no one’s there.

Instead, an altogether different voice calls out, “Freestar Rangers! If there’s anyone there, show yourself!”

Your hands go up immediately, Sam’s do too. “We’re not pirates! Don’t shoot!”

“Come out real slow, hands up!”

Moving out of cover, you see the ranger uniform and badge. The ranger’s eyes go wide. Their gun lowers. “Hot damn, Deputy. Got yourself into a pickle, didn’t ya?”

“Wouldn’t know what we would’ve done without you ranger, thank you.”

The ranger tips their hat in acknowledgement. Another voice—presumably a second ranger, calls them. They half turn to listen, then with a curt, parting nod they turn to leave.

You take a breath, caught by surprise at the rescue and more than a little mixed up emotionally. Clearing your throat, you try to act normal. “Well, we didn’t die. Shall we claim this as a victory or chalk it up to a stale—"

Sam’s gruff voice, followed by his hand spinning you around, gives you chills. “Hang on, I’m not done with you yet.”

This kiss is less desperate, it’s slower, and passionate enough to make your knees go weak. Sam’s hands knead at your hips before moving to your lower back to pull you against him.

When he leans back, leaving your head reeling, his smirk is the first thing you see. “I love you too, just in case that wasn’t obvious.”

Your grin is slow to spread, but it lights up every inch of your face. “I’m sorry, what was that? My ears are ringing, didn’t quite catch it.”

Something deep rumbles in his chest, he presses his lips to yours, separating out his words with stubborn kisses. “I’m—in love—with you—too.” He can see the glint in your eyes as you slowly open your mouth. “You can’t play the deaf card twice in a row.”

“Damn. Ok, just say it one more time before we go back to the ship.”

Sam chuckles, one hand coming up to brush a thumb along your jaw. “How about I show you later, instead?”

[idalenn]

deep in the Lillian thoughts tonight after being able to work again on the outline thought the time was more brief than I would have liked (some rambling about surface-level stuff below the cut)

On the topic of Keeper tribes, men - adults, specifically - being so transient in the grand scheme of things, staying for a time after birth, coming and going, fit more the idea of a traveler - of Azem.

Lillian, having rejected that notion and wanting to remain in one place and as a permanent fixture in others' lives as her mother did and her mother's mother did, likely abhors traits considered masculine especially after having been forced to leave her tribe over being AMAB, with traits, emotions, and expressions of womanhood she personally considers feminine coveted beyond a simple need to fit within others' expectations.

Young boys love to fight for the hell of it and enjoy every second of sprawling in the dirt and blood - gotta repress that; finding some spark in fighting would cause revulsion so strong it would make her physically ill. (At least until Stormblood and Sadu and the Dotharl) Violence only when necessary never for violence's sake.

The women learn the healing arts and conjury so she throws herself into those as best she can until becoming so integral to her person she'd feel threatened by anyone even SEEMINGLY trying step on her toes, this white-knuckled hold on her most precious skill only growing tighter as her status rises.

On that same note, since anyone perceived as a woman provides for and handles the tribe's daily goings-on when called upon: material needs; keeping of oral traditions; cuts and scrapes and tending to children; night watch, or otherwise providing protection; foraging; caring for the incapacitated; she would begin to develop a sense of rightness in these "feminine" duties, seeing as she is one which, of course, the Warriors of Light are known for too. - Side note: the growing boys/men aren't entirely excluded from these - they just receive them on a smaller scale since ultimately they're not expected to care for an entire tribe, just themselves. Independence and self-reliance are key for male Keepers!

As opposed to male Keepers, with whom control exists only over themselves, expressing influence beyond one's self cleaves more to the feminine in Keepers, and more with Lillian who witnessed it from her mother and other, more knowledgeable, adults. It was the women who told her to sleep, when to eat, sent her to the forests to play with the others, invalidated her feelings and were later silenced by another, higher woman in the pecking order, and later came together in unison and told Lillian the time to leave had arrived.

(on a more sexual note this would likely mean Lillian would be over zealously making the first move in like every situation which uhhhhhh could be fun to write about?)

[fyonahmacnally]

Thing I Didn’t Say

The day Kara went to the Phantom Zone - 2021

"KARA!" Lena screams. She sees the panicked look on all her friends' faces and wants nothing more than to kill her brother for a second time. What’s a little murder between siblings? This could be considered self-defense, right? He has tried to assassinate her on multiple occasions after all. 

Once they subdue the asshole and get back to the tower, everything becomes real. The minute she realizes Kara is truly gone, she panics. For once in her life, her mind is blank. She has no idea where she is going, but she has to get away from everyone. She needs to find somewhere that she can go to feel close to Kara, to be able to feel her presence.  Before she knows what’s happening, she is standing in front of Kara's apartment door unlocking it. As she closes the door behind her, she collapses onto the floor and deep, wracking sobs surge from her body.

She isn’t sure how much time passes, but she wakes up on the floor in Kara’s apartment feeling like she’s been run over by a truck and then backed over again for good measure. Her phone is vibrating incessantly in her pocket and she couldn’t care less. She knows it is one or all of the Superfriends trying to check-in, but she just can’t deal with it right now. She just got Kara back and now her piece of shit brother sent her to a place that is sheer trauma for Kara. The two of them were definitely on their way to repairing their friendship and there are still so many things she never said, so many things she should have said. 

Now, she may never get the chance. 

Tears sting her eyes again. She didn’t think she had any left, but here she is crying on Kara’s apartment floor thinking about all the things she never said to the woman she knows she’s been in love with for years.  Fuck. She may never get the chance to tell the one person she has ever truly loved how she feels. 

Get up off the floor, Luthor. You know Kara wouldn’t want you to isolate yourself and box up your emotions. 

So, that’s what she does. She gets up and takes in the apartment. It is so full of warmth and is just so  Kara. She walks into the kitchen and makes a mental note to throw out anything that could spoil before they get her back. That thought stops her in her tracks. 

What if we don’t get her back? What if…No. Nope. They will find a way. If it’s the last thing she does, they will get her back.

She decides she needs to sit down and sort through her thoughts. She sees a notebook and pen on the coffee table so she grabs them and makes herself comfortable on the couch. She absently flips through the notebook. What she finds halts her movements and starts a fresh stream of tears. There on a page in the middle of the notebook is a masterful sketch of her laughing with her head tilted and full dimples on display. 

Is this how she sees me?  She wonders. Before she realizes what’s happening, she has started writing Kara a letter. 

Two hours later, she blinks back to reality and decides she needs to get some sleep. She takes the notebook with her to Kara’s bedroom, places it on the nightstand, and heads to the shower. She will sort through the rest of her thoughts and feelings tomorrow. Tonight, she wants to be surrounded by Kara.

And that’s how it goes almost every day. She keeps writing and will continue until they get Kara back from the Phantom Zone. Lena spends everyday at the Tower and every night in Kara’s apartment writing her letters. First, it’s to tell her all the things she never said, then, it’s to keep her up to date on everything that is happening while she is gone. Who knows if she will ever give them to Kara, but it helps her cope with the missing piece of her life. 

The day Lena leaves for Fortune Bay - 2021

With Lex in prison and Lillian god knows where, Lena was the one that took over Luthor Manor. Plus, she needs a break from the Tower. Getting Kara back was great, but it’s still a little awkward. While she was at the manor, Lena found some information about her birth mother. She isn’t sure why, but she feels a deep pull to find out more about her life before the Luthors. With Andrea’s help, she is able to get the name of a town in Newfoundland called Fortune Bay. She knows she has to go. She has to see if she can figure out who she really is. 

But, she also doesn’t want to be away from Kara. There are so many things left unsaid between them and she knows Kara is going to need her friends and family more than ever. She’s torn about what to do. So, yet again, she finds herself standing in front of the apartment that has been her home during the time that Kara was gone. Pulling out the key and unlocking the door, she steps into the safest space she has ever known. Kara isn’t there, she made sure of it before she came. She already let the blonde know that she was leaving for a while and why. It wasn’t an easy conversation, but as she always is, the superhero was understanding. 

She sighs, pulls a letter out of her purse, and makes her way into the blonde’s bedroom. Gingerly, she runs her fingers over the neat letters spelling Kara’s name and places it on the bedside table under the glasses sitting there. The raven-haired genius has no idea when her best friend will find it and she is more nervous about leaving it than she has been about anything else in her entire life, but she promised herself that she wouldn’t bury her emotions anymore so she’s taking a risk. 

At least I won’t be here when she finds it.  She thinks.  God, you’re such a fucking coward, Lena. She actually laughs out loud at that as she walks back toward the door taking one last look around before she locks up and heads out. 

Hopefully this is the beginning of a new adventure.

The night after Lena leaves for Fortune Bay - Kara’s apartment

Kara's exhausted. Putting on a strong face for her friends and family is tiring. She doesn't want to pretend, but she doesn't know what else to do. A lifetime of trauma and stuffing everything down has conditioned her to do this and it's a habit she doesn't know how to break. 

And now, Lena's gone for who knows how long. 

Lena's the only one who can understand and she's not here. She thinks as she drops her keys and bag by the door to get a shower. Having dinner at the tower was draining and she just wants to go to sleep. She grabs some clothes and heads to the bathroom.

The water is as hot as it will go and she stands under it hoping it will wash away the feelings of dread and hollowness. She knows her sleep will be riddled with nightmares and restlessness, but her body is tired. And god, she misses Lena so damn much. They've barely spoken since she got back and now the raven-haired woman is gone indefinitely. She's incredibly supportive of Lena getting answers and finding a connection to her mother, but her heart hurts being away from her best friend. There's so much they still need to talk about. Not to mention the fact that she knows with her entire being that she is desperately in love with the genius woman. They promised no more secrets and here she is sitting on yet more deception. 

Okay, Kara, get your shit together and stop pining after your best friend.

She sighs and turns the water off. She really needs to get in bed and try to get through this night. Getting dressed and through her routine, she heads to her bedroom. As she plugs her phone in, she sees an envelope sitting on her nightstand. She knows that handwriting as much as her own, that's a letter from Lena. Her heart is suddenly in her throat and her mind is racing. Lena must have put it there before she left and she's not sure if that is a good or a bad thing. 

The blonde grabs the letter and sits back on her bed. She gently runs her fingers over her name written in the most neat and elegant script she's ever seen. It makes her heart flutter and she smiles. Running her free hand over her face, she forces herself to open the letter and tries to calm herself down. Surely her best friend wouldn't leave a letter containing something horrible and then leave town. Right? She sighs and pulls the pages from the envelope.

Here goes nothing.  She thinks.

  My Dearest Kara,

By now, you know I've left to try to find more information about my birth mother. I hope I won't be gone for too long. Especially since we just got you back and gods have I missed you. We have so much we still need to talk about and I know we will, Kara, but I wanted to leave this for you in the meantime. 

While you were gone, I spent a lot of time here in your apartment. For many reasons, but there are two that are the most important to me. The first is that being here made me feel close to you and I desperately need that. The second is because your apartment is one of the only places I've ever felt safe. I hope you don't mind that I was here. I tried to keep everything in order and well taken care of for you. I hope it shows.

Now, on to the real reason for this letter. The first night I was here, I was a wreck, Kara. Losing you like that right after we had just gotten each other back was devastating. It felt like my whole world fell apart, again. When I came in and looked around, I realized I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I could feel you all around me and it was what I needed. It was then I noticed a notebook sitting on your coffee table. I decided to try to sort through my thoughts, write something down and try to make sense of what was swimming around in my head. About halfway through the notebook, I found a sketch. Darling, it took my breath away. It was truly breathtaking to see how you view me through your beautiful blue eyes. I was so mesmerized by it that I think I stared at it for hours. Anyway, it made me realize that there were so many things I never said to you. So many things I didn’t say and should have. Of course, I could go on and on about the reasons why, but that’s for another time. 

For now, I want to leave you with the first letter I wrote to you on that first night when the pain was so fresh and raw. We will have time to talk about things and say all the things that need to be said, I promise. Until then, Kara, here are some of the things I kept to myself, some of the secrets I kept. Please read them with an open mind and an open heart, Darling. These words are from the bottom of mine. I will see you soon.

Love Always,

Lena

Tears are streaming down her face as she tilts her head back onto the headboard of her bed. She has no idea what she is about to read, but the fact that Lena stayed in her apartment while she was gone simultaneously shatters and heals her heart. The idea that she felt close to the blonde and safe in her apartment is not what she expected. The sketch Lena referenced is ingrained into her mind. She remembers exactly which one and suddenly needs to get her hands on it. So, she sits the letter on her bed and runs into the living room to grab her notebook. Once she settles back in bed, she opens it up. It’s still there, but Lena placed a pastel green sticky note on the opposite page with a note that says, ‘You are truly an amazing artist, Kara. I hope you know that. xo, L’.  She smiles and holds the notebook to her chest. It makes her wonder if Lena left any other little surprises to be found. She shakes her head and thinks,  another time, Kara.  She has a letter to read.

She picks the letter back up and gets back to it. There are several pages of Lena’s wonderfully elegant handwriting. For reasons she can’t even begin to fathom right now, her stomach has a nervous swarm of butterflies skipping around in it. The superhero knows that whatever words she is about to read will alter her life forever, she just doesn’t know how. Regardless, she is diving in head first.

Hi Kara. 

We just lost you. It hurts more than anything I have felt in a long time. I’m not sure if I will be able to put words to it that make sense or that give it justice right now. What I do know is that I can’t breathe. When I got here earlier and opened the door, I collapsed into a heaping, sobbing pile onto the floor in front of your door. I’m still not sure how long I stayed there, time seems to have stopped and everything is a big blur. It’s all just…I don’t know, bland and colorless. Without you, I am a drifting ship in the middle of a hurricane. I know what it is like to be without you already and I don’t want to go through it again. You mean far too much to me for that. Right now, it feels like my entire soul has been ripped from my body. It feels absolutely hopeless. For tonight, I am going to let myself feel hopeless. I am going to let myself experience the emotions I need to, but I promise you, tomorrow, all of us will fight to get you back home, Kara. You taught me that there is always hope. I will not stop until you are back here. I hope wherever you are and whatever you are doing, you know we won’t stop. I will never stop fighting for you. 

There are so many things I didn’t say to you over the years. So many things I wanted to say or needed to say, but always came up with a list of reasons not to. I guess, in a sense, I was keeping a secret too, Kara. Just as we start working our way back to each other, my brother fucks it up, and you’re gone without me ever having told you my biggest secret. Where do I start with this? How do I go about telling you some of the things that should have been said so many years ago? Especially now that you aren’t here to hear them from me directly. I don’t want it to be too late, Darling. I hope it isn’t.

I suppose I should just start from the beginning. That’s what you would do, right? Ha. Or maybe you would just blurt it out in one big classic Kara Danvers ramble. Boy would I love to hear one of those right now. You have to be the most adorkable person I have ever met, Kara. You’re probably my single most favorite person on this planet. Well, probably the entire known universe, but semantics. Anyway, I am rambling now. You’ve rubbed off on me! I’m nervous about this and you’re not even here for me to have to actually speak the words. You have a way of making me a little nervous. Not many people have that effect on me, but you always have. So, the beginning, let’s start there.

Your appearance in my office that day with Clark was something I will never forget. God, you were just beautiful standing there in your cute little cardigan and nerdy glasses. I was taken with you right away. I’ve never had that kind of reaction to anyone before, Kara. I know if it wasn’t for my Luthor upbringing, I would have been a rambling mess. Even in that first encounter, I was drawn to you and I meant every single word of it when I told you I hoped it wasn’t the last time we talked. I wanted to know you. I would even venture to say that I was enamored with you, I just didn’t realize it yet. You waltzed into my office with your cousin and walked out with my heart in the palm of your hand. It was terrifying, exhilarating, earth-tilting, and unsettling. I didn’t quite know what to do with that reaction, but I knew I couldn’t stay away. That was the first time I knew there was something different about you.

Something I still laugh about is when I went to CatCo and invited you to my charity gala. You know, I was actually asking you out on a date. It makes me laugh at how completely clueless you were to that fact. At the time, I thought it was because you just weren’t interested in me, and maybe that is still part of it, but in hindsight, I think it had more to do with the fact that your Kryptonian heritage and customs are so different from ours here on Earth. No matter how long you have lived on our planet, I know now that you still miss some of the social cues, but then, I had no idea. Regardless of whether you were interested in dating me or not, I knew I wanted you in my life. For me, that was when I realized that I already liked you more than I wanted to ever like anyone again. It scared me in the same ways it made me giddy. 

Filling your office with flowers. It was another thing that I did trying to get you to realize how much I liked you. Again, it’s a little funny to me now that you didn’t see it for what it was. I think I have liked you for so long that so many things stand out as I look back. The closer we got, the more painfully obvious it was to me that I was falling in love with you. When you started dating Mon-El, I was pretty sure I had lost my chance for good, but still couldn’t imagine my life without you in it.  It was always about you being happy. It never mattered to me who played that role as long as you were truly happy. I won’t lie and say that I ever like that guy, Kara. He was never, ever going to be good enough for you. You deserve more than anyone on any planet could ever give you. Anyway, I am rambling again. 

When you lost Mon-El, it was hard to watch you in so much pain. I felt so much guilt about it and when you pushed me away, it hurt, but I felt like you were justified since I played such a pivotal part in him having to leave. Then, you pushed me to date James, I thought you had figured out how I felt about you and were trying to use that as a way to let me down kindly. I knew from the start that it was never going to work with him, but wanted to give it a chance since you seemed to think so highly of him. I still have a lot of questions about that and why you pushed that so much, but I never asked. I have been a coward about a lot of things, Kara. It is so obvious to me now, but at the time, I just wanted you in my life, no matter what that meant. Looking back, I know I never should have dated James. He was never who I wanted.

I know this is all out of order and might seem jumbled, but like I said before, I just need to get this all out and to ‘tell’ you all the things I should have said, but was too fucking scared to. You deserve to know my secret too. 

When Jack died, it hit me hard. Like you, I have lost so many things in my life that I just expect everyone to leave in some way. He was part of so many of the best parts of my life. At least my life before you. I know you felt guilty about what happened with Jack. I didn’t know at the time that it was my Kara that I saved, but I do know it wouldn’t have mattered, I would have made the same decision. It was the right one. As much as it hurt to make it, I would make it again, every time. I could go on and on about so many things, Kara. There are a ton of things that we need to talk about and talk through. We will do that when we get you back. I promise. 

Until then, I will leave you with my truth. My own little secret that I never told you, but most definitely wish I would have. So, here it is, Kara…

You are my perfect partner at game night. 

You are who I think about first thing in the morning and the last at night. 

You are quite simply the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Ever.

Losing you last year felt like losing a part of myself. 

I never knew what it meant to be truly loved, unconditionally,  before I met you.  

Kara, I love you.

I am in love with you.

I think I always have been. 

Please come back to me so I can tell you to your face. 

Yours now and always,

Lena

Kara is sobbing now. She cannot even begin to process what she has just read. How had she missed this? She knew Lena flirted with her. She is oblivious, but she isn’t stupid. She just chalked that up to Lena being, well,  Lena . She is quite charming and always a bit flirty. Lena loves her. She’s in love with Kara. Now she’s not here for Kara to tell her that she feels the same way. 

She has to do something. 

She picks up her notebook and grabs her journal from her bedside drawer. The blonde knows she won’t be able to give a letter to Lena tonight, but she knows she has to respond. Screw being tired, she has some feelings to return. Tomorrow, she will fly to wherever Lena may be and leave her a letter. 

Maybe this is the beginning of saying all the things that need to be said. The beginning of something even better than before. 

For the first time in a very long time, Kara feels…Hope.

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45726514

[strawberryarts]

Since it's been awhile since I've done this here's some Wick headcanons^^!!

Benny Headcanons:

1.he loves white lilies (so does the rest of the Weaver kids)

2.He loves being outside

3.He loves cuddles

4.He's very strong for his age he can lift up rocks that are bigger than the palms of his hands

4.he loves to be by the river as the white noise of the water helps him sleep

5.He has been trying to figure out the truth about Tim and Tom's deaths but died before he could get the answer (yes I think he's a lot more smarter than he leads on even though he's dyslexic)

6.He has a lot of responsibility and stress on his shoulders due to him being eldest Weaver kid

7.He's dyslexic and has problems with reading and writing due to Mary never teaching him or helping him

8.He secretly does care about his siblings (because look at how he was protectively holding Lillian in the true ending it does show he cares why else he would do that)

9.He didn't let Mary influence him so much

Okay that's all of my headcanons for Benny who do all want to see next^^?

[super-sextual-stories]

I’m reading The Beauty of the Experience and oh my is it amazing! Chapter 28’s ending had me laughing like you wouldn’t believe. I wanted to ask, since Andy seems to be figuring out on her own what caused her parents separation, would she ever ask Lena or Andrea? Is that something her siblings or her will ever know? I ask because there’s a point where some things are just hard to hide and we also reach a point in life where we see people for who they are. And given that at some point white lies as described in the story can potentially become hurtful. Lena also mentions in thought that she hates lying to them. Would they see the pregnancy as yet another lie? In essence I guess what I’m trying to say is that even though they keep the kids in the dark to protect them they eventually come out of the dark themselves by picking up on things even if they don’t know what’s going on they pick up on emotions, body language, tone of voice etc. As Lillian points out they deserve to know. And further lying or prolonging of the truth can make it worse(by this I mean them realizing they knew a different version of the person that wasn’t the true version everyone knew because I think as people even if it was their parent they wouldn’t want to be around a person like that) But I like to think based on how you write them even if they hold back information from them Andy & Sophia, especially Andy, knows what’s up. That’s just the musings of my mind.

Gosh I meant to answer this a while back because it’s such a fantastic question! But here we are on chapter 30, so please forgive me.

One of the reasons I love writing this AU so much is because of the complexities and layers involving the kids, Andrea’s transgressions, and Lena’s attempts to protect her kids from the truth of how horrible her ex was. That being said, you’re right! White lies, while intended to be kind, end up no different than straight up lies the longer they drag on. And kids are magnificent sponges that just absorb everything around them, especially when you try to keep them in the dark.

Andy is undoubtedly smart and due to being the eldest she’s definitely more aware of Andrea’s behavior. She’s certainly pieced together enough to guess at what went down, and her little digs at Andrea hopefully make that clear. Sophia internalized a lot of what she witnessed with Andrea, and she’s coming to terms with what she processed and how she feels now that she’s growing into someone different from Andrea. There will be a point when Lena (and Andrea) will have to outright explain why their marriage dissolved because of Andrea’s infidelity. With any luck, it might help them begin to heal from it as a family, but if you're curious to how they’re all getting along so far, Chapter 36 is now on my Patreon and Chapter 30 is up on ao3.

[henghost]

Twig Liveblog for Arc 13

aaaaaa ‼️‼️‼️ idk if i've metabolized my thoughts enough to be fully coherent about them but i feel like i'll burn alive if i don't get them out, so:

it's like, after 3.1-10: "oh this is fun! a little cat and mouse game with the lambs." then after 3.11: "i am ready to commit grievous acts of violence." the earlier chapters are nonetheless worth discussing as without them there could not be such a "devastating" fifth-act catastrophe. particularly the communication experiments fascinated me. what a perfect metaphor! what if a radio could feel fear? what if a a radio could feel love? might we not also ask--what if a weapon could feel horny?

of course the lillian perspective deserves special attention as well. even before she says so explicitly, we understand that she is "ruined." there is her drug use, her physiological response to even the smallest mention of sy. this is perhaps the anatomical effect of being so close as the lambs, who are essentially a single organism: losing one, especially the one to whom you were closest, is like cutting off a limb. poor girl! like the rest of them she's wrapped up in shit too vast to possibly understand much less overcome.

helen is also going through it :( maybe she'll be the next one to join sy... mary's perspective is also quite rough--this is when i realized that this sy guy is on a level of psychosis i hadn't really considered before lmao.

and then at last there's That Scene with lillian, which reads at first like some kind of fanfiction--some kind of fanfiction lillian herself might have written--complete with typically teenaged overdetail, melodramatic descriptions of flushes, body heat, etc., till finally there's a sort of "surrealist coup," we realize we are too deep in sy's subjectivity to understand the reality of the situation, there's a break, we are lost.

it's all just so (say the line, henghost!) freudian... one of freud's most correct insights is that eros permeates all aspects of life, and therefore that to deny, suppress, or compartmentalize it cannot achieve anything but to make it sick, make the host neurotic. for example, instead of simply fucking your best friend who's clearly into you, you might design an obscenely elaborate rube goldberg type contraption throughout a monument to your darkest trauma (that psychotic fucking carnival orphanage lmao) in order to "win" your ex back. it is wrong, therefore, though understandable, to say that sy has "castrated himself"--it would be more accurate to say that wyvern has his dick twisted up in knots while he's still trying to get hard, poor guy. (by the way, i really have to write something about how wyvern is an allegory for ssri's lol.)

i won't even broach the moral ambiguity, though i'm sure there's something interesting to be said about it--for me, it's like asking about the morality of a withered tree or oedipus rex. and it really is that sophoclean: it was doomed to happened; it was fate. it is written into jamie's dna. sy is a gun who wants, and a gun cannot help but fire. libido is the engine pushing us down a railway designed at best by deus sive natura or at worst by the Academy. i feel fucking sick to my stomach!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! nonetheless, i found it life-affirming. it's pessimistic, yes, but it's a pessimism of strength.

anyway, i've gotta give kudos to the author. for all the (deserved) shit i've given him, the wildbow of twig is clearly a far more mature writer than the wildbow of worm.

i must also--since this the last recorded arc for the audiobook!!--shoutout kim dauber, who provided professional-level audibook-reading for free!!! it's possible my reading will slow down without it :(

[nightingale2004]

The vampire diaries next generation: Delena version

Stefanie Jenna Gilbert Salvatore

Faceclaim: Madison Beer

Stefanie is the first daughter of Elena Gilbert and Damon Salvatore

She is the oldest in her family

Stefanie takes after her mother and does her best to be a responsible daughter and older sister

She is a cheerleader and captain of the Mystic Falls cheer squad and chairman of the Mystic Falls high committee

Damon and Elena feel like she is her late uncle Stefan incarnate

Loves seeing the Saltzman twins

She is a great planner and is considered a great service to her community

She is seen as the golden girl and perfect child

She loves her family and even does volunteer work at the Salvatore boarding school (she knows about the supernatural due to an incident regarding one of her sisters)

Helps out her mom at the hospital when she has the time

She also keeps her siblings in line and babysits her youngest sister who is named Sarah Miranda Gilbert Salvatore

She also works at the Mystic grill and sings a little bit

Stefanie is often called goody goody, golden girl, and/or goody two shoes by her sister Rosabella

Stefanie also goes by Stef, or mini Stefan by her family (mostly Damon)

Damon finds it scary how alike his daughter and late brother are

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rosabella Lillian Gilbert Salvatore

Faceclaim: Sofia Carson

Rosabella is the second born child of Damon and Elena

She takes after Damon.......by a lot (Alaric and Matt have expressed this many, many times)

Rose and Stefanie don't get along all that well and constantly tease and argue with each other (same thing with Elena)

Every time she and Stefanie have a fight, it reminds Damon of how he and Stefan used to fight

Rosabella is considered the "troublemaker" in the family

Rose spends time at her dad's nightclub in Mystic Falls (her and Damon have tried to keep it on the downlow)

Rose is very jealous of her older sister but would never tell her that

Accidentally got herself turned into a vampire when she snuck off to a party, and a vampire was passing by.

She got transferred from Mystic Falls High to the boarding school shortly after

She and her uncle Jeremy talk a lot, and she loves it when he comes to Mystic Falls for a visit

She likes photography and has creative writing flame. (She writes for her school paper and helps her dad get some publicity)

She lives to annoy Stefanie and tries to embarrass her

When Rose first turned into a vampire, she locked herself in her room to try and contain herself from hurting her family

When her thirst became too much, she would leave to hide in the woods of Mystic falls, but her family would always do everything they could to help her control her thirst for blood no matter what

She drinks both human and animal blood (she did go ripper once and has regretted it ever since)

Her dad calls her his little raven. She pretends to hate the Nickname, but she secretly loves it

Alaric and Matt call Rose, either a mini Damon or a she-demon (she likes it and laughs about it a lot)

`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,

Zachary Grayson Gilbert Salvatore

Faceclaim: Gavin Casalegno

Zachary takes after Damon in looks, but he is calmer like Elena and has an artistic soul like his uncle Jeremy

Zach mostly keeps to himself and never really interacts with society or the town in general

He loves his family

His older sisters often tease him but he knows it's out of love

He also babysits Sarah

He also knew about the supernatural (he knew when he was in middle school)

He found out about the supernatural by stumbling upon his late uncle Stefan's diary, and then he made connections by doing a lot (and I do mean a lot) of research

Out of his three sisters, he loved Rose the most due to them being seen as outcasts in the towns eyes

When his sister, Rosabella, was turned into a vampire, he was more distant with her at first, but he saw how hard she was fighting her "natural killer instincts," and they slowly reconnected again

Zach takes combat and hunter lessons from his uncle Jeremy whenever he's in town or whenever they talk on the phone

Has an interest in auto-mechanics and works at an auto shop (Damon sees a bit of Stefan in Zach whenever he's fixing a car or motorcycle)

He also plays a little bit of football