#lillian solace

[henghost]

Twig Liveblog for Arc 15

great arc!!!! it all felt so french, somehow, very may '68, with feckless anarchists and student rebellions. sy even starts smoking!!!!!! that was probably my favorite part, sy nervously smoking more and more. i'm beginning to understand how everyone around him finds him so irresistibly attractive...

speaking of: jessie and sy are literally TOO CUTE!! jessie explaining how she likes trains, sy and jessie sleeping with their heads on each other, and then a little peck on the cheek 🥺 they are so perfect for each other! the interlude is probably one of my favorites so far. god that line about how she didn't know jealousy until that episode with lillian killed me. the discussion of "anchors" is so fascinating--and heartbreaking when we realize that the central anchor for all her memories is sylvester. she is cursed/blessed to recount in perfect painstaking detail every encounter, every little instance of neglect. she reroutes every new experience through the complex web of memory, and it feels so agonizing to have even this small exposure to that. every new happiness is tinged with the pain of nostalgia.

there's some kind of parallel between jessie/sy and fray/avis, i think. people who can, by virtue of being victims of fucked up biotechnology, only find solace in one another. the phantom amalgam-fray joining evette was another standout moment--the not-quite-sisters.

fray continues to be enigmatic. her motivations, plans, and pathology are all so murky. does she really have a scheme lurking in the background that she doesn't need to be there for? how will this circumvent the sore-loserdom she describes? (very excited to learn, by the way, that the infante is one of the people who gets to personally condemn whole cities.) sy's long discussion with fray wherein he details how he felt like a dog for the academy was so good.

fray is so fucking cool!! it's crazy that she gives mauer a run for his money in terms of being a badass rebel leader. dolores the octopus 😍😍😍

sad to narrowly miss the lambs :( i hope they can still meet up sometime soon! i want to know what's going on with them too, like for instance if mary and lillian have kissed yet.

final predictions!!!!! (or embarrassing myself for your amusement):

fray is probably right to be more cautious than sy wrt fighting the crown, and sy's recklessness will lead to some unspeakable catastrophe

this catastrophe will probably involve some plan to disseminate the nobles' big secret that backfires horrifically

the plague will be what ultimately does the crown in--too thematically appropriate to have eruptive, spontaneous life triumph over the crown and academy's regime of biocontrol

the duke and the lambs will unite to try and defeat the infante, but will lose

the king will be larger than the infante

sy and jessie will kiss a lot and make love and get married and find some way to have children and name them all sylvester junior or jessie junior and live happily ever after forever :)

[etdraconis]

Updated Muse List

Bold denotes primary/main muses, underlined denotes secondary muses, Italics denotes tertiary/low muse, * denotes request only

Dragon Age Canons:

Cremisius Aclassi

Anders

Zevran Arainai

Blackwall

Eleanor Cousland

Fergus Cousland

Fenris

Bethany Hawke

Carver Hawke

Nathaniel Howe

Thomas Howe

The Iron Bull

Anora Mac Tir

Loghain Mac Tir

Josephine Montilyet

Dorian Pavus

Cassandra Pentaghast

Cullen Rutherford

Varric Tethras

Alistair Theirin

Cailan Theirin

Maric Theirin

Dragon Age OCs:

Arden Aclassi

August Amell

Elizabeth Amell

Julian Amell

Oliver Amell

Rosalie Amell

Pyke Brosca

Elysia Caius

Amara Cousland

Brennon Cousland

Lauryl Cousland

Victoire Ducet

Callum Hawke

Kenton Hawke

Leanore Hawke

Hava Lavellan

Theron Mahariel

Kalva Sabrae

Alim Surana

Aurelia Tabris

Claire Trevelyan

Declan Trevelyan

Evelyn Trevelyan

Everett Trevelyan

Maxwell Trevelyan

Persephone Trevelyan

A Court of Thorns and Roses

Elain Archeron

Feyre Archeron

Nesta Archeron

Azriel

Cassian

Jurian

Kallias

Rhysand

Tarquin

Eris Vanserra

Lucien Vanserra

Bridgerton

Sophie Beckett

Benedict Bridgerton

Colin Bridgerton

Eloise Bridgerton

Francesca Bridgerton

Gregory Bridgerton

Hyacinth Bridgerton

Felicity Featherington

Penelope Featherington

Gareth St. Claire

Gwendolyn Sinclaire

Kendall Sinclaire

Alexander Thorne

Charlotte Thorne

Lillian Thorne

Sebastian Thorne

William Thorne

Crescent City

Aidas

Juniper Andromeda

Fury Axtar

Baxian Argos

Ariadne

Hunt Athalar

Lidia Cervos

Ruhn Danaan

Declan Emmet

Hypaxia Enador

Danika Fendyr

Tristan Flynn

Connor Holstrom

Ithan Holstrom

Tharion Ketos

Bryce Quinlan

Rigelus

The Empyrean Saga

Andarna

Jack Barlowe

Imogen Cardulo

Ridoc Gamlyn

Aaric Greycastle

Liam Mairi

Sloane Mairi

Rhiannon Matthias

Brennan Sorrengail

Lilith Sorrengail

Mira Sorrengail

Violet Sorrengail

Grishaverse

Kaz Brekker

The Darkling

Jesper Fahey

Inej Ghafa

Matthias Helvar

Fedyor Kaminsky

Tamar Kir-Bataar

David Kostyk

Nikolai Lantzov

Zoya Nazyalensky

Genya Safin

Alina Starkov

Wylan Van Eck

Tolya Yul-Bataar

Nina Zenik

Percy Jackson

Annabeth Chase

Nico Di Angelo

Jason Grace

Percy Jackson

Piper McLean

Will Solace

Leo Valdez

Throne of Glass

Aedion Ashryver*

Sam Cortland

Lysandra Ennar

Aelin Galathynius

Evalin Galathynius

Dorian Havilliard

Fenrys Moonbeam

Chaol Westfall

Rowan Whitethorn*

The Witcher

Jaskier

Geralt of Rivia

Yennifer of Vengerberg

Other Book Muses

Daniel Arlington V (Ninth House)

Aziraphale (Good Omens)

Crowley (Good Omens)

Alexander Clairemont-Diaz (Red, White, and Royal Blue)

Arthur Delacey (Gwen and Art Are Not in Love)

Galaxy Stern (Ninth House)

Greek Mythology

Aphrodite

Apollo

Ares

Aristeus

Artemis

Asclepius

Hades

Hera

Hermes

Patroclus

Persephone

Poseidon

Zeus

DnD/Fantasy OCs

Jalana Astorio (human warlock)

Tarquin Auglathia (sea-elf rogue)

Nedri Autumnblaze (half-orc ranger)

Azure (water genasi monk)

Anders Brightwood (human bard)

Caerlin (tiefling arcane trickster rogue)

Drake (Wild Hunt shifter ranger)

Elianis Galonodel (half-elf druid)

Naivara Galonodel (half-elf mastermind rogue)

Taron Galonodel (wood elf bard)

Rhys Le'Quella (eladrin wizard)

Makaria (tiefling paladin)

Reya (tiefling storm sorcerer)

Alwyn Sulian (sun elf paladin)

Auryn Sulian (sun elf fighter)

Cerys Sulian (sun elf celestial warlock)

Emrys Sulian (sun elf shadow magic sorcerer)

Cloak Timbers (gnome cleric)

Hollis Tremaine (human fighter)

Other/modern OCs

Destin Michaels (merman)

Novah Michaels (mermaid)

Cassian Sage (werewolf)

Sophie Sage (werewolf)

Reina Solace (werewolf)

Hazel Thatcher (werewolf)

Nicolai Voss (vampire)

[grantairescurls]

To be clear: yes, he canonically has 4 brothers and one sister. But it came to me in a dream once that he only has sisters and it stuck with me. I’ve build this entire AU fanfiction in my head where things are kind of the same but of course, as it is Athelstan centered, we look at things mostly from his point of view.

This incredibly long post is dedicated to my mutual @demon-of-the-ancient-world because I think they might enjoy it.

This is (or, well, was) Athelstan’s family.

Rowan, a former soldier who lost an arm in battle, was subsequently discharged from service and granted permission to return home. His days are now occupied with tending to the farm, caring for his beloved children, and attending to his enigmatic wife.

Letia stood out as the most reserved and well-behaved among the children. Her strong commitment to the family's farm is evident as she devotes herself to caring for the animals, with a particular fondness for tending to the cows and goats. She is pledged to a young man from a neighboring village, and their union is based on genuine affection, as neither she nor the young man stand to gain financial advantages from the arrangement.

During Lillian's pregnancy with Anais, she insisted that she could sense her baby's heartbeat synchronizing with music's rhythm. Only Rowan lent credence to her claim, but when Anais was born, her innate affinity for music and singing became evident. Unlike her siblings, she didn't engage much in the family's daily tasks, as her mother encouraged her to follow her musical calling. Eventually, she secured a position at one of the town's two taverns, also showcasing impressive skills in writing and persuasion. Anais's warm personality has earned her popularity among the townsfolk.

After Eva was born, around 10 minutes after Anais, Lillian's life hung in the balance due to severe blood loss. The contrast between the twins became stark as the years progressed and their personalities blossomed. Eva reveled in getting dirty, exploring herbology, felling trees, horseback riding, and embracing an active lifestyle. Recognizing her potential, her father secretly started training her in swordsmanship and archery.

A local legend recounts that Bridget's entrance into the world was marked by laughter rather than tears. All the unspoken thoughts that Letia held found voice through Bridget, who became Letia's personal interpreter of sorts. Similarly to Anais, Bridget showed no inclination towards farming; instead, she delighted in spending her days at the tavern, engaging in conversations with passing travelers seeking rest. Her chatter about her sister's musical talents led to Anais securing a job there. She was always curious, and never ever scared. Despite her father’s attempts to rein in her wild hair using pins and veils, much like her mother’s, it stubbornly resisted any form of constraint.

During Lillian's pregnancy with Athelstan, her usual quiet nature became even more pronounced. She secluded herself within their home, closing the sole small window and resisting food and drink unless she reached the point of hunger. Rowan pleaded with her on his knees, urging her to eat, to communicate, and to step outside to bask in the sunlight. Yet, her response remained a wordless gaze, heavy with exhaustion and sorrow. Aware that she carried a child destined for great suffering, Lillian seemed to attempt to spare him by almost willing his demise before birth. He arrived prematurely, at eight months. As Rowan witnessed the birth of a son, tears of joy streamed down his face, his heart brimming with happiness. Each passing year, Athelstan's resemblance to his mother grew uncanny. He became a mirror image with slender, pallid limbs, cascading black locks, icy blue eyes, and a gentle, subdued voice. Athelstan found solace in solitude, his days immersed in studying the flourishing vegetables in their fields, the creatures inhabiting their stables, the hidden bugs amidst the grass, and the stars often obscured by thick clouds at night. Despite his attempts to forge friendships, no other children were drawn to him for play. He relished moments spent with his mother, the only child permitted to visit her even on her difficult days. She wove tales of distant lands, courageous warriors, enchanting beings, mischievous spirits, and age-old deities, painting a vivid tapestry in his mind. Frequently, Athelstan would awaken in the dead of night tormented by nightmares, seeking refuge in his parents' bed. Enfolded in his father's arms, he'd recount his unsettling visions with intricate detail, while his small hands found solace in his mother's dark hair. In silent exchange, the parents, particularly Rowan, shared concerned looks, his gaze repeatedly turning to his wife in search of answers, only to find none.

Six years later, Petra entered their lives, a ray of sunshine that managed to thaw Lillian's heart. Her husband observed her stepping outside more frequently, resuming her singing, cooking with enthusiasm, and savoring meals with newfound passion. Petra's presence infused their days with a renewed sense of happiness. The young girl formed a special bond with Athelstan, who took it upon himself to shield her, unwaveringly committed to her protection. If the child had been allowed time to mature, she would have eventually become an exact carbon copy of her father.

Lillian had always been solitary since childhood. Although her parents cared deeply for her, they struggled to comprehend her nature, and no one else seemed to either—until a 19-year-old boy, back from war with one arm less and no family left, came into her life. They met at the market , where she was selling her father's chickens, while he was in search of two for his new farm. Lillian, with a stone-cold expression, claimed that one particular chicken among the lot was an exceptional storyteller, evoking a laugh from him and leading him to choose that chicken. When Rowan kissed her hand goodbye, a hint of blush painted Lillian’s pale cheeks for the first time in her life. That day, Lillian returned home wearing an unusually wide smile, in stark contrast to her typically gentle and kind expression. Announcing her impending marriage, she left her parents looking at each other, lost for words. Over time, her mental state began to decline, deepening her introversion and occasionally leading to bouts of paranoia. Gradually, she abandoned regular clothing in favor of loose and flowing nightgowns. Despite her struggles, Lillian's love for her children remained unwavering, and the fact that most days she lacked the strength to spend time with them outside with made her suffer terribly.

[clavissionary-position]

CYRAN x READER

...Are Red ...Are Blue

drabble . angst . blood mention . kissing

minors and ageless blogs please dni

° ° ° °

"Cyran. I don't think... I don't think last night was a mistake."

Cyran's hands register the words seconds before his placid mask ripples under moonlight and distorts, breaking, ruining and elevating his beautiful smile; and there, where you can't look away, like blood spatter, his clutched bouquet spills out over your bare, stone-scraped feet. Because maybe the ribbon around the stalks were bound in apology, and maybe each flower found its way into a sweaty grip writing goodbyes into garden air while a pretty red brow hung with reasons you have no right to know. Because that would be so like Cyran, to gently let you down into your tears so you wouldn't have to crash.

All falls are crashes. It's just sometimes you have the luxury of choosing which organs burst.

The roses you manage to save find a new bed in your arms, this shield wrought of self-solace years in the making without you ever knowing, but when you stand back up and dare to sight beyond your glistening lashes, Cyran's lips take you.

All falls are crashes.

And it's different from the night before. His kiss is proof that the person you are today is different from the person you were yesterday and the person you will be tomorrow. Beginnings get marked with kisses. Promises are immortalized in them. Cyran's kiss, crushing his roses between you, bending you into his clawing, beastly, cradling hand, is the birth of a hero come to claim his runaway.

When he pulls back into moonlight his hair is tousled and wild, his smile hangs draped in sensual shadow-shapes with glimpse of pearly teeth, and his only word is an invitation, awkward and a bit boyish, but written into the garden's ears in a language beyond those of any rose.

---

Once again heavily-inspired by gilbertvonobsidian and his heartwrenching, genius fic Lillian

[mikeandikeschmidt]

Text from Camille:

Hi Mikey! It’s Camille, Mrs. Lillian’s teacher aide. We had spoken the other day about Abby’s progress. Sorry to bother, I just wanted to say truly that she’s a great little girl, sweet, attentive, selfless and creative. You’ve really done well with her! I had just wanted to let you know this, as you looked a bit stressed today picking her up. I know it’s not much but I just hope you have some solace knowing we at the school realize you’re doing your best. Don’t worry about coming in late for her, I’ve been staying late with the students who are picked up later.

Abby drew this today, she had thrown it away but, I’d salvaged it. I asked her about this, she said it’s her depiction of ‘Fear’ she says that she doesn’t see him when she’s with you, thus is why she had thrown it.

She loves you. I wish you the best :)) have a beautiful day !!

Mike looked at the picture for a long time. Wow, Abby drew that? He tilted his head at it. Was that meant to be that animatronic Chica tried to stuff her into? What did she mean Abby didn’t see him when he was with her? He shook his head. Maybe he was overthinking it. They were artsy people. It was an art project. Didn’t mean it had to do with anything real.

He opened his phone to text her back, Hey, Camille. Thanks for sending me her stuff. I’m really proud of how talented she is. I have no idea where she gets it. I can’t even draw a stick figure, haha.

It warmed his heart to see all the nice stuff Camille had to say. That was really kind of her. He couldn’t believe how supportive she was. He thought he looked like a deadbeat.

And thanks for saying all that. It means a lot. You have a good day too 👍

Was the best response he could give. He wasn’t great at expressing mushy stuff. But it did help him.

[damnedmisery]

【•⊱

𝐂 𝐔 𝐑 𝐒 𝐄 𝐒 & 𝐀 𝐍 𝐆 𝐔 𝐈 𝐒 𝐇 •⊱】

The rhythm of shared silence engulfs me, a drumbeat in the abyss, an empathetic cadence. Healing design emerges through the kaleidoscope of our scars, a pattern woven from shared suffering's threads. We sit in the quiet before the storm, I'd said my piece and braced for chaos. It feels like my claws had grown just for this moment, and I was ready to fight.

The silence in the room was broken by Nicholas's grandfather clearing his throat. He was the eldest of the Agosti family. I remember Nicholas telling me how much adoration he had for him. How he was respected but also feared by many. I’m hoping whatever he says eases the tension in the room. “Mr. Levine, a muzzle is all you need for a mouthy bitch.” I wasn’t expecting that. His words struck me with the sharpness of a blade. They also struck a chord in Malik. “Watch your tongue or you won’t fucking have one!” I was taken aback by him defending me, he is nothing but cruel towards me. One minute he hates me, and the next, he is protecting me. It’s a real mind fuck. “If you can't keep your own in line, how can I trust our future?” He seemed unfazed by Malik’s threat. I gaze at him in disgust, is this truly the person Nicholas was so eager to follow? Someone who speaks down on women this way and refers to them as dogs.

𝙈𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙢����𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘!

As I reflected on Malik's words, I couldn't help but wonder if there was a side of Nicholas I was unaware of. Was my love for him so blind that I failed to see him for who he truly was? That he was just like the men I despise.

I swallow the lump in my throat. This dinner was surely a tough pill to get down. I looked at my father, wondering if he would correct Mr.Agosti for what he said. Considering his wife, Lillian, was also present at the table and I might not like her but she still deserves some respect.

With zero patience and faith in my father, I couldn't care less about whatever else he had to say. I left the table, bringing my wine glass with me.

Leaving them to their miserable dinner, I walk out to get some air. I pass the living area where I catch a glimpse of the wall of family pictures. Whenever I felt overwhelmed, I come here to find solace with my mom, Amelia Levine, my anchor through it all. These pictures were the sole reminder that she existed and that I wasn't always shrouded in this darkness. I lost my mother when I was twelve but it still feels like yesterday. Somehow I managed to make it to twenty without her. Her smile so beautiful and bright in these photos it almost helps erase the final tainted memory I had of her.

F L A S H B A C K

I remember I was just a little girl being abruptly awoken from my slumber by the sound of breaking glass and my mother's shouting. Disoriented and confused, I struggled to make sense of the chaos unfolding.

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶?

𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘦!

I climbed out of bed and headed towards the door when my mother pushed it open. The front of her nightgown stained in blood. I was about to say something but she silenced me with her hand on my cheek. Her shaking revealed her fear and pain.

“𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦, 𝘓𝘪𝘯𝘢. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦… 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘥. 𝘕𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘜𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥?”

With her bleeding out like this in front of me, I couldn't possibly bring myself to take her orders. “What’s going on mom? Why are you bleeding?” I asked her. I was afraid, tears clouding my vision. The blood soaking through her nightgown is too traumatizing for me to withstand. She takes my hand and tries to give me some comforting words

“ 𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.

𝘐…𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘓𝘦𝘯𝘢. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦.”

She gently withdrew her hand from mine and exited my room, softly closing the door behind her. It wasn’t long before her screams echoed down the hall, interspersed with the dull thuds of blows against the wall. I was trapped, unable to act, and I listened to her pain-filled cries until the very end, my tears flowing endlessly.

I wished it all was a nightmare, and I could just open my eyes to find life simple again. I stand here staring at her photo, looking at her smile but being haunted by the sound of her screams. They drown out everything else around me.

I keep watching those I love meet tragic ends, sometimes it makes me wonder if my love is the reason for it. That I am every bit of the curse that tainted my mother first and then Nicholas. I just couldn't see it any other way.

My heart races, and I struggle to draw a breath. I’m on the verge of a panic attack and I’m trying to ground myself but I can’t. The glass of wine slips from my grasp, shattering on the marble floor. The sound echoes the turmoil of her struggles. What I heard as she fought.

I’ll 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 forget it.

[tobeyandkirstendunstfan4life]

Supercorp and Danson get horny

Arrowverse Horny: Supergirl clapped by Lena Luthor.

Melissa Benoist as Kara Zor-El/Kara Danvers/Supergirl

Katie Mcgrath as Lena Luthor

Chyler Leigh as Alex Danvers

Azie Tesfai as Kelly Olson

(On a balcony)

(Supergirl is gazing at the view of National City, her cape is flowing in the air, looking at the city)

(Then Lena Luthor (the daughter of the late Elizabeth Welsh, the adopted daughter of Lillian Luthor, and the half-sister of Lex Luthor) sneaks up behind Supergirl so quietly that she bypasses Supergirl's super hearing, and Lena says her eyes on Supergirl's big, rounded bubble butt, and claps both of Kara's buttocks and Supergirl blushes and turns around)

Supergirl: Hi, Lena, I didn't sense you coming and clapping my butt cheeks.

Lena Luthor: (smirks) I can be as quiet as a cat as I want to be, which makes me invisible to your super-hearing, Kara.

(Supergirl turns around and pulls Lena in, putting her hands on Lena's butt cheeks)

Supergirl: (smirks) Well, you owe me a kiss for that.

(Lena wraps around her arms Kara and they lean in and kiss)

Supergirl and Lena: (moaning with locking lips, kissing, and making out) Mmmmmmmmmmmm.

(Lena pulls away slightly, breathing heavily)

Lena Luthor: You always know how to make my heart race, Kara.

Supergirl: And you always know how to make me feel invincible, Lena.

(They continue their passionate kissing, their hands roaming each other's bodies, their desire for each other growing stronger with each passing moment)

(Later, they end up in Lena's penthouse, continuing their intimate moments, lost in each other's embrace)

Supergirl: (whispers) I want you, Lena. I want all of you.

Lena Luthor: (breathless) Take me, Kara. I'm yours.

(And as they give in to their desires, the passion between them reaches new heights, igniting a fire that can never be extinguished)

(And in that moment, Supergirl and Lena Luthor become more than just superheroes and allies, they become lovers, destined to be together forever)

(Supergirl and Lena continue kissing passionately, their hands roaming each other's bodies)

Supergirl: (breathless) God, Lena, you drive me crazy.

Lena Luthor: (smirking) You're not so bad yourself, Supergirl.

(Suddenly, they hear a noise in the distance and quickly break apart)

Supergirl: Duty calls. But meet me tonight, at the same place?

Lena Luthor: (nodding). I'll be counting down the minutes.

(Supergirl gives Lena one last quick kiss before flying off into the city, leaving Lena smiling and feeling giddy)

Lena Luthor: (to herself) Who knew being bad could feel so good?

(End scene with Lena looking lustfully at the now empty balcony)

(And so, the love affair between Supergirl and Lena Luthor continued, hidden from the rest of the world but burning brightly in their hearts. Their connection, both physical and emotional, only grew stronger with each passing day, solidifying their bond as they faced the challenges of being heroes and lovers in a world that may not understand their unconventional relationship. But for Supergirl and Lena Luthor, nothing could come between them, not even the weight of their responsibilities and secrets. And as they found solace in each other's arms, they knew that they were meant to be together, now and forever)

(Supergirl's Adopted Lesbian Sister Alex Danvers saw what Kara and Lena were doing, and is starting to have horny thoughts about doing horny things with her wife Kelly Olson, and she has a mischievous smirk on her face, thinking about sneaking up behind Kelly and clap her bubble butt cheeks)

(As Alex makes her way towards Kelly, she can't help but feel a rush of excitement at the thought of surprising her wife in such a playful and intimate way. Kelly, completely unaware of Alex's presence, is standing by the window, lost in thought)

(Alex sneaks up behind Kelly, her heart pounding with anticipation, and without warning, she claps Kelly's butt cheeks, causing Kelly to jump in surprise)

Kelly Olson: (laughs) Alex, you scared me!

Alex Danvers: (smirks) Did I, now?

(Kelly turns around and playfully swats at Alex, a playful smile on her face)

Kelly Olson: You're always up to something, aren't you?

Alex Danvers: Guilty as charged. But I have to admit, I love seeing that smile on your face.

(Kelly pulls Alex in for a kiss, their love and passion for each other evident in the way they embrace)

Kelly Olson: I love you, Alex. You always know how to make me laugh.

Alex Danvers: And you always know how to make me feel complete. I'm grateful for you, Kelly.

(And as they share a tender moment, their love for each other shines brightly, reminding them of the bond they share and the happiness they bring each other)

(End scene with Alex and Kelly locked in a loving embrace, their hearts full of love and contentment)

(The Arrowverse is filled with love and passion, with relationships that defy the odds and bring out the best in each other. Despite the challenges they face, the heroes of the Arrowverse find solace and strength in the arms of their loved ones, proving that love knows no boundaries and can conquer all)

(And so, the Arrowverse continues to be a place where love, desire, and passion intertwine, creating relationships that are as powerful as they are beautiful. Whether it's Supergirl and Lena Luthor's forbidden love or Alex Danvers and Kelly Olson's playful affection, the Arrowverse showcases a variety of relationships that explore the depths of love and desire in all its forms. As these heroes navigate their dual lives as saviors and lovers, they prove that even in the face of danger and darkness, love will always prevail)

(The screen fades to black, leaving the audience with a sense of warmth and hope as they witness the strength of love in the Arrowverse)

(End of Arrowverse Horny: Supergirl clapped by Lena Luthor)

[shiningstages]

aisling dempsey | open starter! 

( though more like just a jumble of alphabet soup and thoughts, but if anyone wants to respond to this i’m definitely not against it~ contains death and slight gore; or maybe it’s just regular gore?? i’ll tag it as both just in case~ )

A breakdown. She was prone to this, she supposed, but it had been so long since she had felt this surge of power from the immense pain in her heart. In all her years of travel, she had never met another who taught her the secrets of how to control such outbursts, though it wasn’t like she sought out anyone either. She was left to her own devices because she wanted to be; didn’t want to be around others unless she desperately needed to feel something, and very rarely found a friend when she knew the pain that came with friendships. She never talked of the past and never thought of happiness in the future. She just glided through life, getting what droplets of true enjoyment she could, waiting for a day that would never come - waiting to die for real.

It was better than being taunted by whispers on the wind that sounded like loving voices long passed. Better than seeing the face of the boy she grew so fond of in a crowd, on the body of a man in the present day, and feeling oddly sentimental enough to want to feel his warmth. Better than seeing her mother carry a little girl that looked nothing like her, talking to a man that couldn’t even passed as her father, yet still projecting her once happy little family onto them like she was looking into the past. Better than seeing the people she had made friends with in the past, who had either died too young or grew wrinkly and old, in the faces of people in the park or getting plastered in nightclubs. Regret somehow wiggles it’s way into her soul, as if she was at fault for any of their passings. And resentment mixed in, as if it was their fault that she couldn’t see them in the afterlife. Even if she knew those people weren’t them - could never and would never be them - it was like they were smiling directly at her, and a voice in the back of her head wanted to approach them; cling to them; giving them the last bits of her soul that could hold love for another human being.

Every time it happened, she would swallow it all down. But even ghosts had their limits. 

And it was when some small coven took the life of a hunter that looked so much like her father, that she let it all consume her. She fled to the woods to get solace away from the living populace, but of course there were creatures lurking around every corner, and of course they had to do something stupid when she had so many encounters that put her on edge. They didn’t know better, and they certainly begged for reasons as to why the sudden apparition was crushing their bodies with simple squeezes of her hands, and pleading for mercy when the bloodied girl wouldn’t respond. The top of her own skull crushed and oozing blood, unintelligible speech gargled out in between echoing screeches and moans - The girl was too far gone to be persuaded into stopping. On one hand, she wanted to be. Her true soul and mind locked away in darkness, not having to register the pain she felt as her ethereal body vented it’s rage on the somewhat immoral beings. 

But, on the other hand, was the aftermath she had to wake up in. To see piles of flesh scattered all across the immediate surrounding, barely resembling the living things they once were, viscera for mother nature to now feast upon to her heart’s content. To feel her absolute nothingness - the rejection and detachment of any and all feelings in her soul - suddenly being crushed under the weight of her actions. Hyperventilating while looking at her pristine yet shaking hands, stained by yet another action towards bloodshed, yet she doesn’t look at all surprised by the outcome. Tears streaming down her face and then fading into the ground, yet sobs couldn’t leave her, nor did she want to feel pity for herself or those fools. And the corpse of the human who resembled her father now soaked in everything around it, and still bled out from every open wound on it, Aisling looking upon it with a distant stare. For this wasn’t the first time she had done this, and it wouldn’t be the last time she would crave death against people who hurt the living she attached herself to in this way. It frightened her to lose herself to vengeance and madness, but in the moment it was still welcomed, even when knowing the outcome made her sick to her stomach.

For she couldn’t control it in the end. So she simply chose to accept it as her fate; to coast the ebb and flow of madness and sanity in her mind.

What she could control, however, was anyone who happened upon the scenes of her crimes. And the snap of a twig so distant was enough to make her turn on her heel from where she floated in the air, eyes bloodshot as she balled up her fist in the sound’s direction. But regular Aisling would kill so easily, at least not without good reason. Though she certainly wasn’t against extreme intimidation, her powers instead crushed the trunk of a thick tree right behind the eavesdropper, before her other hand gripped them in a choke hold, moving them away just as the tree dropped to where they once stood. They’re released a second later, Aisling eyeing the mark she left on their throat as they gasped for air. Her instant reaction fades and in comes the plethora of feelings she now continues to digest, her brief moment of nothingness shattered with the reality of now facing this person, hyperventilating and shaking once more. She hadn’t wanted to hurt them that badly, yet she also knows that the mark will fade with time, while another part of her yells that the emotional scars are seared in their mind now. She keeps her gaze locked on them, wondering how they’ll respond to it all. She certainly will hurt them again if push comes to shove, yet she also hopes they just run away and get deemed a crazy person by their town when spouting off all they things they witnessed. It’d pain her to ruin a life, but relieve her that she wouldn’t have to end it instead, her mind currently too much of a mess to do anything but run or fight. “Stay…Away…” A forced out warning from her closed up throat. It was the only spoken one they’d get.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Crisis Redo Pt 15

Lena tries to take Kara's words to heart. She truly does. When they return home that morning, she gives her mom a long, fierce hug-- but it's silent. She can't find a lie to tell in place of the truth that's been weighing on her, so she says nothing at all, hoping that her mother will feel her love and be comforted by it.

She suspects it doesn't assuage her mother's worry, but her mom only kisses her forehead and makes her favorite comfort food for lunch.  Neither of them mention the silence.

In the days and weeks that follow, Lena makes an effort to remain upbeat. She forces smiles until they eventually feel natural again, and when Lillian doesn't make another appearance, they do come easier. She relies on her routine-- her morning jogs, her stop by the bakery truck on her way to work, and the comfort of seeing her patients every day.

She finds escape in the sniffles Rosemary reports, and the resurgence of Mr. Gibbens corns. A prenatal visit here, a follow up there. Nothing that Lillian Luthor would ever find pride in, but Lena takes solace in the mundane, knowing that she's making her small differences with every patient she sees.

Kara visits every weekend as she has been, and for a while, it feels like things might just be okay. For good.

One night, Lena wraps up her final patient visit a little later than usual, caught up in friendly chit chat on Frances' way out. When the woman finally leaves, Lena goes about her routine of refreshing the exam room for the next morning. She wipes down the exam table, straightens the visitor chair, and double checks the stock.

It's simple, familiar work, and she lets her mind drift as she does it.

What Lena doesn't hear is the sound of the front door quietly opening, or the unfamiliar steps of a stranger walking through the waiting room.

It's not until a floorboard creaks behind her that Lena snaps back into her senses. Too late, she registers the click of a gun cocking.

Before she even has time to turn, something punches her in the back, sending her stumbling into the exam table. Blood splatters across the freshly cleaned vinyl, and Lena stares in shock as it glistens in the overhead light.

Lena collapses then, crumpling to the ground. When she remembers to breathe, the pain hits, hot and searing across her back and chest. Coughing, she struggles to inhale again, but the breath drags in her chest, scraping against her ribs, and she knows at least one of her lungs is damaged.

Ears ringing, Lena struggles to focus.

Her phone is in her desk, where she'd left it after resonding to Kara's text on her last break. The rolling cabinet to her left holds bandages-- in its top two drawers, which she has little hope of reaching. There are even tampons in the bathroom, if she could manage to crawl that far and use them to plug the hole in her back.

Cabinet. It's the closest-- she'll deal with reaching the top drawer when she gets there.

But Lena's limbs don't work right. They're thick, heavy, unwieldy. Her head is pointed away from the cabinet, and she can barely muster the strength to push onto her hands and knees, let alone turn around.

Still, she tries.

She gets halfway, and freezes when heavy boots step into her line of vision. Realization dawns slowly, her unvoiced plea for help dying in her throat: the shooter hasn't left.

Lena lifts her head, straight into the barrel of the gun that's already shot her. The face beyond is blurry and indistinct, but she sees the shape of a smirk as a thumb pulls the hammer back a second time.

---

Lillian scowls out the window, resentful of the night that comes so swiftly in winter. She sighs-- at least it spares her the sight of the outskirts of Willow Creek.

This time, she comes to visit her daughter with a peace offering: a job offer, at National City Trauma Center as their head of surgery.

Lena's history in a metropolitan hospital before coming to Willow Creek and her occasional assists around National City was enough to get Lena's name on the table-- Lillian's sizeable donation to the children's ward will be enough to clinch the board's decision.

The position is close to Lena's... friends, Lillian allows, and remains close enough to Willow Creek that Lena will be able to visit her birth mother whenever she pleases. But most importantly, it will bring Lena closer to her, giving them a chance to repair their fractured relationship.

Lillian knows she's made mistakes, especially with Lena. Having memories of a life devoid of Lena has been enough to confirm her world is lesser for it. She wants to make things right, and this is how it starts.

But when the towncar parks in front of Lena's practice, Lillian's confidence is replaced with a sense of wrongness-- theirs is the only car in the lot, after business hours... yet the inlaid front door stands ajar, spilling warm light onto the dark porch.

"Stay here," Lillian tells her driver, climbing out of the vehicle. She crosses the walk and porch steps in swift strides, bursting through the front door with alarm high in her chest.

"Lena?"

She wills her daughter to call out, from her exam room, or her office deeper in the house. But when Lillian turns into the patient waiting room, her entire world comes screeching to a halt.

"LENA!"

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

🔀 except maybe outside of Gilmore Girls?

You know that my memory is a bit of a mess so I did my best 😅

Max & Parker Allen

Lillian & Nia West

Beth & Deborah Winchester

Cordelia & Crystal Solace

Send me a 🔀 + one of your ocs and I’ll pick one of my ocs that I think would work well with your oc.

[fckaugust]

@lilliian​​

the farm that’d always felt like it had a semblance of his home, wherever his home was, had been somewhat tarnished by the events of... well, the events of what was to come, he reckoned. darkwood was back to a place of darkness ( fitting ), strangeness, otherness, confusion -- not even a decade had lessened that. not anymore. not now that the farm wasn’t a place of solace, now that the one thing he’d contributed to the town was no longer in existence, now that he was just... glorified christian summers again.

but lillian’s text piqued his interest. not so much the initial invitation, nor the invitation to watch her try on jeans ( he would’ve been the worst person for her to go to for that, too -- he was twenty-eight -- or twenty-one -- and was still dressing like a billy idol wannabe ), but her implication that she knew something about the event that was to transpire. an event that caused him such strife, such regret, such grief, such anger, such despair -- an event that had simply completed his cherished black void. what did she know ? 

upon his arrival, he was able to recall that her family -- if they were not figurative playable characters -- would expect him, be fine with him welcoming himself by his own, would trust him. handy ! “ it’s been... a real long time. almost forgot what it looked like here. ”

[docgold13]

365 DC Comics Paper Cut-Out Villains - One Villain, Every Day, All Year…

April 22nd - Poison Ivy

The villainess known as Poison Ivy was originally a talented botanist named Lillian Rose who stole an ancient Egyptian artifact containing mysterious herbs. She was poisoned by these herbs and developed an immunity to all natural toxins and diseases. Naming herself Poison Ivy, she used her abilities to commit crimes and crossed paths with Batman and Robin. This initial version of Poison Ivy would later be retconned and Poison Ivy became Doctor Pamela Lillian Isley, a Gotham City botanist who grew up with a wealthy yet emotionally distant family.  Pamela found solace from her loneliness with plants and she went on to study botany and biochemistry under the tutelage of Dr. Jason Woodrue. Woodrue (who would ultimately become the villain known as The Floronic Man) ended up using Pamela as a test subject for his sinister experiments. He injected her with a specialized serum that transformed her genetic make-up, making her something of a human/plant hybrid with the ability to mentally control all manner of natural flora. Angered over how poorly the human world was treating the earth, Pamela renamed herself Poison Ivy and embarked on a career as an eco-terrorist. This led to multiple altercations with Batman. Although she mostly despised humans, the alignment of common goals led to Ivy teaming up with fellow villains, becoming a member of The Secret Society of Super Villains, The Injustice League and The Suicide Squad. She has also sometimes acted as something of a hero, serving alongside The Birds of Prey and Gotham City Sirens. The lone human that Ivy truly cares for is her partner/best friend/paramour, Harley Quinn. Poison Ivy featured in the movie Batman and Robin, where she was portrayed by actress Uma Thurman. Another version of the character featured in the television show Gotham, portrayed by actresses Clare Foley, Maggie Geha, and Peyton List. The Lillian Rose version of Poison Ivy first appeared in the pages of Batman #181 (1966); whereas the Pamela Isley version first appeared in Secret Origins #36 (1988).

[allicekitty13]

A Garden On My Skin

Read On AO3 Read On FFN

In a world where every scar produces a floral mark on the body of your soulmate in the same spot Alice Brandon tries to find the one who's caused her body to look like a garden.

Alice was strange; her skin was covered from head to toe on almost every surface of her body in flowers. Alice, like so many others, was blessed with a soulmate. Every beautiful flower on hey body represented a scar received by the individual to whom her heart was connected.

It started when she was a baby, at least that's what her mother had told her. At just five months old, the first flower appeared on Alice's shoulder. It was a reasonably common occurrence; her mother assumed her daughter's soulmate must have been in their terrible twos, causing trouble that ended in injury.

Alice was one when her mother woke up to find that a dahlia had surfaced on her daughter's leg overnight. Two flowers on a one-year-old was less common but not entirely unheard of. Lilian Brandon hoped that her daughter's soulmate would grow to be a bit more careful. 

By the time Alice was of school-age, however, Lilian was fretful. Her daughter now had six flowers; a number most people would accumulate over their lifetime, not in only five short years. She dressed her daughter in long sleeves and pants to cover as much as possible, leaving only the rosebuds that framed her left eyebrow exposed.

Lilian didn't mind her daughter's floral embellishments; it wasn't something that could be helped; instead choosing to teach Alice to appreciate the gift. Her husband looked at things differently. Edgar had always hated the flowers; the small lilac on Lillian's left knuckle had always been a source of tension between the two. Not everyone had a soulmate, and Edgar had no flowers while the local librarian had a small scar on his left knuckle. Lilian did not go to the library often. 

At sixteen, she was old enough to understand what the markings meant. Old enough to recognize that most people didn't have a soul mate, to fully know that people treated those with markings a bit differently. It was a societal standard to keep your marks concealed wherever possible, never to discuss them. Alice couldn't do that. There were lilies on her cheek, a rose above her eyebrow, a lilac on her neck. Her arms long since covered by so many overlapping flowers, it was hard to identify them all. 

She didn't allow herself to be bothered by the marks, the stares she got on the street, or how people in her town did not want anything to do with strange little Alice. She loved the garden on her skin, spending a lot of time alone thinking about what must be happening to this person. Why and how they must be getting hurt so very often. It seemed as though a new mark would appear every few months. She worried for them, were they safe, did they think about her. She often wished she could skip all the in-between and go find them.

She was sixteen when her life took a dark turn. One morning, she had woken up to find the police in her living room carrying the news of her mother's passing. I was a car crash, deemed an accident, but Alice couldn't quite bring herself to accept that. A week later, the library closed temporarily; the librarian had drowned. His death had people talking; the townsfolk gossiped about Lillian Brandon having an affair with the librarian, how the man had drowned himself out of grief when he had heard of her passing.

Alice had other suspicions; she had felt that her father had a hand in her mother's death from the get-go. He would put up a good show of playing the part of mourning husband with the police and the mourners who came to pay respects, yet acted as though nothing was wrong when it was just he and Alice alone in the house. 

She felt as though her suspicions had been confirmed the day after her mother's funeral. She witnessed her father handing a strange envelope to a shady stranger at the memorial service. A week later, he moved a woman named Anna-Marie into the home. They were engaged within the week, married within the month.

Alice hated her new step-mother, the way she would dote on her in public, playing the part of a loving parent. At home, Anna-Marie was distant, cold; she wanted nothing to do with Alice. Sadly it seemed neither did Edgar. The only solace she took was in the genuine care and adoration given to her younger sister. At least no matter what happened, Cynthia would be Ok.

Alice knew what was coming long before it actually did. She'd had her escape planned out for weeks. Alice would wait for Edgar and Anna-Marie to leave for town without her, then grab the pre-packed backpack hidden in her closet and run. She would go through the woods and search the country for her soulmate; surely, they would care about her. Surely wherever they were would be better than here. 

She had made it just far enough into the woods that no one in town would hear anything that may transpire deep in the woods. Whoever her father had hired to follow her wasn't very discrete. She'd heard the footsteps long ago, the crunching of leaves and occasional snapping of a twig. She'd tried to lose them but had been ultimately unsuccessful. She recognized the smell of gunpowder first, hearing the sound of the gunshot mere milliseconds later. Alice understood what had happened before registering the pain letting out a soft chuckle as she fell to the ground. She felt as though she lay there for an eternity silently crying as the life faded from her body before everything went black. Unconscious, Alice didn't notice the strange man who silently approached. Didn't feel as he bent over, sinking his fangs into her throat. However, she did notice when he unclenched his jaw from her neck, and the most intense pain she believed possible spread through her body like fire.

----

When Alice opened her eyes, she was alone in a small, dark, wooden shack. She looked around at the space from the bed she had been placed on, trying to figure out how she got here. The last thing Alice could remember was the bullet hitting her back, and then... so much pain. Now, her throat was burning; she needed water. No, not water... but what? 

Alice stood, needing to find something to relieve the pain she felt in her throat when a man entered the one-room shack; he held his hands out, indicating he was not there to harm her. He tossed an unconscious rabbit at her feet. She immediately understood what to do, picking it up to drink deeply; the blood coated her throat, ceasing the burning sensation temporarily. 

Alice would spend the next five years with this man, whom she learned to be named Carlisle. He explained how he'd found her bleeding to death in the woods and turned her into a vampire just before she had passed on saving her life. Carlisle taught her about vampiric customs, how they lived in secret, and how to hide in plain sight amongst humans. How he fed off of animals and how to hunt. 

As much as Alice enjoyed her time with Carlisle and eventually, his wife, Esme; she still wanted to find her soulmate, as new flowers continued to show up every day. So she bid the couple farewell, promising that she would return one day.

Three years later, she met Charlotte; Alice was working as a sketch artist in Philidelphia when she encountered the woman on a walk late at night. She had never seen another person with as many marks as she had and immediately approached the woman. Charlotte was kind, explaining how she and her soulmate Peter had been involved in vampire wars in the south. They had both been bitten numerous times during battle; consequently, they both had gardens just like Alice. 

She stayed with the pair for a month when she approached Charlotte with a question. Alice pulled down her sleeve to expose a long scar on her left shoulder blade. She wanted to know if Charlotte or Peter had ever seen anyone with a matching mark during their time in the south. Maybe just like the pair,  her soulmate had been involved, thus the reason for her floral prints. The couple shared a mutual look of realization; Peter nodded in affirmation before leaving abruptly.

Charlotte sat down with Alice, prepared to explain some things. She told her about a man named Jasper, a man who'd had his entire worldview shaken apart the day a rose vine appeared on his shoulderblade. Not only was Jasper involved in the wars, but he was also a significant player. Jasper was the right-hand man of the leader of one of the most powerful covens in the south, the very same coven from which Peter and Charlotte had escaped. Charlotte confided in Alice that he had been questioning his role in the disputes for decades, how Peter had gone back countless times, risking his life in attempts to convince Jasper to leave. It had taken that rose vine to change his mind, to make him realize just maybe there was something better out there for him. He had been looking for her ever since.

When Peter returned alone, Alice wished she could cry; she had wanted desperately to find this man ever since the day her father had brought Anna-Marie into their home. She wanted someone to honestly care for and understand her. When Peter told her Jasper was waiting at the train station, she'd never run so fast in her life in her haste to get there. 

He was waiting as promised; suddenly nervous, she hid behind a stone pillar just hidden from view, taking him in. He was a tall, stoic man; even from a distance, Alice could make out a rosebud on his neck in the exact same spot Carlisle had bitten her years ago. When he turned his head slightly, she was able to make out a pair of striking red eyes and an expression of apprehension. With a sudden surge of courage, she stepped out into full view, taking cautious steps toward the man who now stared at her. 

They stood there for a moment, each taking the other in neither speaking, both of them just existing in this long-awaited moment. The instant Alice looked into his eyes, she felt comfortable; he seemed so familiar as though she had known him her entire life. It was an instant, overwhelming connection, and in that moment, she knew that she would never leave his side.

"Hi, my name is Alice." She broke the silence, finally extending a hand.

[knightsolaire22]

Alone

Summary: Lena had always been an extraordinary young woman. The CEO of one of the most successful and wealthiest businesses, designing much of the technology said business sells herself. And despite having a bubbly and joyful best friend, whom she loved more than friends should, Lena Luther couldn’t help but feel…. Alone. A/N: This is a short story from Lena’s POV based on the poem ‘Alone’ by Edgar Allan Poe. It has some mentions of domestical abuse so reader discretion is advised. It can also be found on my Ao3 account: Yuriwarrior1999. I hope you enjoy.  From childhood’s hour she has not been As others were - She has not seen As others saw - She could not bring her passions from a common spring - Lena had always been different from her peers, ever since she was a child. When the Luthors adopted her at the age of four, they pushed their opulent and decadent lifestyle on her. 

She was not allowed to play outside, nor was she even allowed to mingle with the ‘common folk’ as Lillian Luthor had put it. Instead, Lena had to take up ballet, learn to play the piano and violin and learn how to lay the table properly for a dozen-course menu. 

From a young age it was clear that Lena was intelligent. She easily outplayed her brother in chess and read books that were at least several years beyond her age. Yet, if her intelligence were to surpass Lex’s, it would manifest itself as dark purple spots on her body. From the same source she has not taken Her sorrow - she could not awaken Her heart to joy at the same tone - Her misery continued throughout her teen and adolescent years. Other people’s sorrow would come from, in her opinion, the most mundane things: Failing a test, a breakup, missing a bus,... 

Those problems seemed so small to her, so insignificant compared to the complete darkness that surrounded her whenever she was at home. She was always glad to go to school, not only because she was eager to learn but it was an escape from the hell back home.

Lionel Luthor was a ruthless man, especially after several glasses of strong liquor. His fists didn’t discriminate. Lena at least took solace, no matter how cruel it might sound, that Lillian’s body was often as broken as hers was. A parity the woman would often rectify by breaking Lena’s body even more.

Joy and happiness, two feelings everyone should feel in abundance no matter where they are in their life, were a foreign concept to her. Instead of going out with friends she didn’t have, Lena surrounded herself with books and poetry.

And all she loved - she loved alone -

She had no one to share her passion for literature or engineering with. Lex would mock her preference in literature as inferior to his, claiming any form of fictional writing were useless. Neither her mother nor her father had ever told her they were proud of her, that they were happy with the things she had accomplished. No matter how much she suffered from both her parents’ hands, she still longed for their love, for their affection. She never received it. 

Her brother was the only one who showed her that he cared, a little bit, when she was young. However, these moments were few and far between. Eventually, once he got obsessed with Superman, he regarded her as a pawn in the game of chase he played with the Man of Steel.

Then - In her childhood - in the dawn Of a most stormy life - was drawn From every depth of good and ill The mystery which binds her still

She knew how miserable she was. She loathed it. She wanted to change, she wanted to be happy. She wanted to be someone different, someone who was not Lena Luthor. But, she did not know how she could ever achieve that. 

She did not know if she would ever heal from the wounds Lillian and Lionel left on her. After all, those types of wounds did not heal, they would scar and fade over time, but would never go away completely.

From the torrent, or the fountain - From the red cliff of the mountain - From the sun that ‘round her rolled - In its autumn tint of gold -

Kara Danvers was Lena’s saviour. The blonde reporter was a salve to Lena’s wounds. She was the anchor grounding Lena so she wouldn’t plunge in the harrowing darkness that accompanied her shadow. 

And even when life presented Lena with such a miracle, she managed to screw it up. For she knew, despite her lack of experience in any form of romance, what it was she felt for the reporter. 

Kara was Lena’s whole world.

She was Lena’s sun that made sure she stayed in orbit. Her bright rays banished the dark clouds that chased her.

From the lightning in the sky As it passed her flying by - From the thunder, in the storm - And the cloud that took the form

Kara would make all of her dark stormy clouds that had followed her around her entire life, go away in the blink of an eye. Lena, in turn, made a new even bigger one, by feeling the things she feels for the bubbly blonde. 

But Lena knew she could never tell Kara the true depths of her heart. For if she would, Lena would lose the sole thing that kept her going.

When the rest of heaven was blue Of a demon in her view

Other people might allow themselves to dream. To say ‘what if’ ‘What if she likes me back’. ‘What if she kissed me’. Lena knew better than that, though. There was no way Kara Danvers could feel anything more than friendship for her. 

Besides, even if the impossible chance she would return them existed, Lena was not worth it. It would be egotistical of Lena to put Kara in such a position for she deserved so much more than what the broken CEO could offer. 

But Lena also knew that she could not keep these feelings bottled forever, no matter how much she wanted to. After all, we can never hide our hearts, our true feelings from the ones we love.

Lena knew that one day, she would not be able to take it anymore. She would reveal to Kara what she truly meant to her. 

And when that would happen, the rope that held the anchor would snap, plummeting Lena back into the darkness she was so used to. 

Lena would be back to being…. Alone

[porta-decumana]

Two more longfic characters with vague descriptions because Reasons(tm).

Avannaut -- a Redbelly Wasp that grew up under the wild boughs of the Black Shroud, away from civilization.  Though technically a bandit, he was a man of integrity, preferring to avoid conflict and live off the land away from civilization.

Lillian Willows -- A botanist that lived in Quarrymill, a girl with a troubled home life that found solace in walking the forest trails of the Shroud.  An avid reader and a daydreamer.  

[marshmallowprotection]

The clock still ticks on, And time still goes on. If I could have, I would have stopped time so many times. But that’s beyond my power. And so I deal with the world, The cruel reality.

I grasp onto the hand of the one whom I love, My death seems to be nearing, So for her sake, I ask she doesn’t feel sad, For the release of death feels cathartic After a life of twists and turns. Tragedies and even a few happy moments. The clock continues to tick, And as the seconds go by, My death continues to grow near.

Maybe I’m just pessimistic, Ha, that seems like an apt description; You’d become that way too after 5 whole years of wondering- Killing- Murderering- A life of little meaning. But now I feel the urge to smile, For now that I have my children and wife with me, I think I could say that I am “happy”.

I grasp onto the hand of the one whom I love, My death seems to be nearing, So for her sake, I ask she doesn’t feel sad, For the release of death feels cathartic After a life of twists and turns. Tragedies and even a few happy moments. The clock continues to tick, And as the seconds go by, My death continues to grow near.

The clock ticks on and the world seems to slow. My heartbeat diminishes, And my eyes feel the urge to close. I hear the soft sobs of my beautiful wife. Her blue eyes fill with tears and they then stain my blanket. My children surround me, My sisters not daring to lag behind. It’s been years now since that day, The day we won the war. And now I think it’s time to say “Goodbye”.

Eyes filling with tears, I say my last words: “I love you all.” And as my life slips away, I smile and- A tear falls as I close my eyes…

~~~~~~

Ok, so heres another “pseudo lyric” thing. This is the last song Cora Hallow, one of my characters, made at the end of her life. She actually didn’t physically write it herself, as she wrote it when she was on her deathbed. Cora’s wife, Lillian, acted as a ghost writer for her, writing these lyrics for a piano composition Cora had finished before she became so sick she couldn’t leave her bed. 

I don’t know if I told you about Cora before, but I’ll tell you about her character anyways even if I did:

Since as far as Cora could remember, she loved to play the piano. She lived and breathed music. However, her parents discouraged her to focus on anything other than becoming a “perfect wife”. You see, Cora’s parents (specifically her mother) were nobility who had been kicked out of their noble house due to how distantly related they were (in the Vesper Empire, where Cora is from, the farther related you are to the main branch of your noble house, the less “noble” you are) to the main branch. And so Cora’s parents wanted to marry her to the heir to one of the “big time” noble houses, such as House Mariah, however, first off, Cora’s a lesbian, and second off, she had no interest in getting married to a man she didn’t even know. Also, Cora had 4 little sisters, Seraphine Hallow, Alia Hallow, and later, twin sisters Elysia and Briella Hallow (remember these four!). 

Cora only found solace with her great aunt, Alena, the sister of her father’s father, who was the one to teach her how to play the piano better as Cora was originally teaching herself. Cora was really close with Alena, as she never shunned her for liking girls or not being “wife material”. 

Cora honestly just despised her parents and often argued them. However as she grew older, in order to avoid their verbally abusive ways, she started to ignore them and avoid them whenever possible instead of actively fighting back. she also didn’t want to traumatize her younger sisters, though they ended up traumatized in other ways in the future anyways, and her parents fought together often, and there wasn’t much she could do about it except take her sisters away from the scene of the fight. 

Cora also taught herself how to use a lance, and as she grew older she would become a extremely capable fighter.

And now we arrive at the fateful year of 1545 T.C. (Cora is 17 by this point). 

Originally the day seemed like a perfectly normal one, but soon Cora caught glimpse of a strange looking person wearing a cloak with strange symbols, and before she knew it, the person had used fire magic to set the town ablaze. Cora was unable to make it anywhere near where she knew her sisters were, and ended up having to flee to save herself. 

Later during the night, she returned to the village only to find it just a pile of ashes. only the house that were made of stone or some other nonflammable material were still standing. The town was littered with corpses, most pitch black and burnt beyond recognition. She found her parents’ bodies, and, well, upon seeing them, she froze, and then, walked away. She honestly didn’t care. They had shunned her and hated her for almost everything she did that they deemed was not “wife-material”. 

Despite not being able to find her younger sisters’s bodies, she thought they were dead, and this event traumatized her beyond repair. She ended beginning to wander Theda, staying with several different people who were willing to take her in for varying periods of time. Soon, she found out that a cult worshipping the goddess Nymeria (though Nymeria was not at all affiliated with them and despised them) were the ones behind the fire of Saseraia (her home town), and massacred everyone in the cult upon finding their hide out. After that she became a wandering vigilante, killing criminals, both suspected and convicted. 

For the next 5 years she spent her days making friends and enemies and betraying people, but overall was a lone wolf in a sense. She eventually wandered her way to Windsor, the capital of the Kingdom of Solenne, where she ended up finding out the her younger sisters Seraphine (now 17), and Alia (now 13), were alive. 

After a lot of twists turns she ended up becoming one of the generals of the Thedian Resistance Army, who were fighting against Nymeria and her cronies’ corrupt ways. Eventually the war is won in the Thedian Resistance’s favor and a new system is set up to replace Nymeria’s. Cora marries Lillian Winchester (a fellow Thedian Rebel who Cora had been slowly falling in love with) and then adopt three children. Cora becomes a musician, writing songs and making compositions. Most of her songs had a fire or time theme, and many of her songs told a story that was in general tragic and without a happy ending. Of course, this happened after she finally retired from the mercenary group she and Seraphine ran together when she was 43. 

Finally, at the age of 69, Cora passes away peacefully, surrounded by her children, wife, and 4 younger sisters, and those younger sisters’ children and even some grandchildren. 

Her sisters, Lillian, and her sisters’ spouses would follow her to death within the next decade, and in their world, the phrase “When one dies, the others follow.” would originate because of her, Lillian, her younger sisters’ and their spouses all dying within the same decade. 

Cora was in general a person who was quiet and calm, but before the war, she was far more cold and distant. she was stuck on the fact she couldn’t protect her sisters and save them from the fire (even though they all did survive it but she didn’t know at the time) and even when she found out they were all alive the traumatic experience just couldn’t be forgotten. Lillian certainly helped her open up more, but even so through out her life she had nightmares of the fire of Saseraia, and sometimes would go through a depressive episode where she hid away from everyone and hauled herself up in the music room of her home. She, however, produced some of her greatest songs during those depressive episodes, so I suppose there is a silver lining there.

Cora, At Age 58 ^

“Thank you for loving me, Lillian, and for being there for me throughout all these years.” - Cora, 1582 T.C., Age 58, To Lillian On Their 30th Year of Marriage Anniversary. —Submission

Can everyone relax and get a hug for five minutes because everything that I hear makes me wanna cry or scream or both; but I mean this in the nicest and most compliment-y way because I just adore how detailed the world building is over here. I hadn’t heard the full-details of this OC before but let me tell you that my reaction is very: