#if u see a typo no u didnt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harbingersglory · 4 months

Note

hii could i req an soft dom arlecchino x sub/fem reader?? something w a really needy whiny reader n maybe like a mommy kink or thigh riding IDK tysm for ur time !

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader {☆} warnings 18+ content

"Slowly, doll. We're not in a rush." Arlecchino reprimands lightly, squeezing your hips with just enough force to keep you unmoving on her thigh– she was still being gentle, but the subtle warning in her tone spoke to how easily she could push you against the desk and turn you into such a mess that you couldn't even remember your own name..just that you were hers.

But the barest hint of stimulation from her slacks pressed against your throbbing cunt had you twitching, barely able to form words. All you could think about was the scorching, twisting need building in your stomach, desperation for relief slowly climbing until you'd think she was doing this on purpose to drive you mad.

"Please– 'm a good girl, right? I've been good.." You choked out, only to be met with the rough, husky laugh echoing in your ear that made you feel dizzy with a rush of need, her nails gliding along the skin of your hips as she pressed you down even more firmly– you couldn't see her face but it was easy to imagine the crooked smile twisting her lips at the way you inhaled sharply and tried to buck against her thigh.

"Shh. I know, doll. I've got you, just relax." She murmured in that sickly sweet tone that always had your knees buckling, the raspiness of her voice sending shivers down your spine. It was almost impossible to relax with her so close, the notes of metal lingering on her skin despite how well she presents herself– but you trusted her, despite how you know you shouldn't.

"There we go. Good girl." Arlecchino's grip on your hips loosened just enough for you to move if you so wished, and oh did it take every ounce of restraint to not do just that..she hadn't said you were allowed to, and you weren't about to spoil her good mood by being a brat. Not tonight, anyway. "Do you want to cum, doll?"

The fervent nod you offer in place of words draws a laugh from her lips, one that is almost mocking, making your face flush in embarrassment– but the sudden tap against your hip makes your mind go blank to the point you forget it all together, focused only on the feeling of her thigh rubbing against your cunt as you bucked against her thigh, the fabric slick and wet against your inner thighs. You'd have half the heart to be embarrassed about that, too, if not for the sudden brush of her thumb against your aching, neglected clit. Just that small touch has you speeding up your movements, practically drooling as you whimpered like a dog in heat.

"That's more like it, doll. Such a pretty girl." Arlecchino hummed, her other hand trailing up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and ghosting across your throat before settling on grabbing your jaw in a firm, yet almost tender touch as she tilted your head to the side just enough for her to pull you into a burning kiss. It left you lightheaded, grinding down against her thigh as she claimed your mouth as her own, her thumb still ghosting over your clit sporadically.

She'd spent so long teasing you, constantly touching you but never where you needed her, that you already felt like you were going to snap like a wire. She must've been in a really good mood, then, when she pulled away from the kiss with an almost predatory lick of her lips, yet she settled on pressing kisses to your skin rather then the usual sharp bite of her teeth as they sunk into the curve of your shoulder.

"Are you close? Go on. I want to see your face when you cum– you look the prettiest when you finally break apart, doll." Arlecchino mused idly– as if she wasn't talking to you while you continued to rub your aching cunt against her thigh, chasing your own release through shaky, strained breaths. Her thumb swiped over your lips, brushing strands of hair stuck to your skin from your face– at the same time as she swiped her thumb more firmly against your clit, creating a vicious contrast that had you both melting at the barest hint of almost softness from her and the touch of her hand between your legs, dragging you into an orgasm that leaves you trembling and, had she not shoved her fingers into your mouth, screaming, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

"All done, little doll. Take it easy." She murmured, voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it, thumb swiping across your cheek to wipe away the stray tear, her hands pulling away to settle on your sides. "You did well– good girl. Let me take it from here."

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #minors dni #writing tag #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino smut #i considered the mommy part for half a second but i see arle as the biggest butch and i didnt want 2 swap it on the fly looks around #the projection is just a little too hard my bad. i am obnoxiously annoying abt butch arle...#n e way ough soft arle...........not done enough......arle being rough is a given bc shes Like That but like #soft.......#i am weak for a woman who can do both and switch on a dime #arle imo leans like. 80-90% towards rough but shes got a soft spot if shes in a good mood yknow..#i wrote this at 1 am on like uhhh 2 hrs of sleep if it isnt good uhhhhh blame it on that lol #im just feeling it out rn anyway tryna get into writing proper smut again its been a hot minute oop #passes out and dies ough......................#also did NOT spellcheck i just wrote it all in one sitting and called it a day i am gonna pass out now so if u see a typo....#no u didnt #im not done yet wait a minute okay now just. soft arle got me okay. its rlly rare but shes good at playing nice okay #the appeal of arle is fucked up little creature but sometimes u want 2 be pampered i get it #OKAY im actually shutting up now passes out in the middle of the road

420 notes · View notes

lovesickeros · 5 months

Text

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 3 ]

{☆} characters neuvillette, wriothesley, furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ]

Wriothesley was not a man of superstition. He did not kneel at the altars until his knees bled, he did not pray until his voice gave out– he did not, contrary to popular belief, suffer divine punishment for his apparent lack of respect.

After all, what Divine would look so deep beneath the waves just for a glimpse of the sinners that inhabit it?

Not them, evidently.

He hadn't slept in the past four days, though. There was a heavy air of something where ever he walked– it followed him like a thick fog, lingering and choking him until it dragged him to his knees like a chain. His thoughts inevitably linger on the striking, extravagant letter so conveniently adorning his desk at the fortress– the broken wax seal, the letter tucked into his pocket.

He'd recognize the seal of the Iudex any day. Wasn't often he spoke to him– but the shaky, distorted words hastily etched into the paper made him pause. Neuvillette always had a steady hand– elegant, flowing script that him of flowing water.

It had kept him up for days.

The implications were..haunting. He'd poured over the letter for hours, illuminated only by faint light of his desk lamp. Yet no matter how many times he tries to see what must be hidden beneath the ink, the paper itself even, he finds nothing but the shaky script of a request that sends a bolt of pure frost through his veins.

He noticed, of course, the odd goings on of Fontaine. He'd heard vague whispers of the Divine's hunt for the imposter– he'd heard, too, of the ceaseless rain pelting Fontaine until even he wondered if the nation would finally sink beneath the waves.

It didn't, though. And that only made it all the more odd. Days of constant rain, just for it to stop suddenly..he tugged his coat tighter around him, throwing up the hood of the cloak clasped even tighter over it with a grunt as he leaned around the corner of the alleyway.

He didn't believe in superstition, but this was too hard to ignore as a simple weather anomaly.

Maybe that was why he ignored his gut– he knew that this was probably a trap, at the very least it was suspicious. But damn it, he couldn't ignore the instinct to follow the only lead he had.

His boots clicked against the rain stricken streets as he stalked through the shadows, mindful of the clinking of machine patrols just a few streets away. Yet every step felt heavier then the last as he took a long, good look at the Palais Mermonia. He almost considered bringing out his gauntlets, but he thought better of it– if it came down to it, he needed information. And he would need whoever was waiting for him alive for that– the dead don't speak and all that.

The letter's directions led him in a..rather roundabout entrance to a secluded room, evidently, as he lifted his hand and quietly knocked against the door. Two rapid knocks, pause, another knock, pause, four knocks. It doesn't take long until he hears the latch of the door unlock.

The leather of his gloves creaks as he clenches his fists, adjusting his stance. He's ready for a fight, if he must, but as the door quietly slides open he feel the weight on his shoulders relax slightly– the familiar, sharp features of Neuvillette meets him. He almost reflexively smiles at the way his pupils turn into thin slits, a momentary surprise that he quickly hides well behind a cough and the creak of the door as he pulls it open fully.

"Wriothesley. I see my letter has found you well. Please, come in." Polite as ever, Neuvillette steps aside to let him in, but he can see the exhaustion lining his features– the bags under his eyes aren't as well hidden as he thinks, at least to him. "Bit odd to be inviting me all the way out here in the middle of the night, don't you think?"

His tone is smooth as he steps into the room, brushing down his hood and glancing at Neuvillette over his shoulder, watching as he shuts and locks the door behind him.

"I apologize for the..less then ideal circumstances, but I'm certain you will understand when you see for yourself." He wants to retort, but the Iudex beats him to it, vaguely motioning to the room behind him. An invitation– but he wonders if it's worth taking.

His gut says no, but he's feeling a little risky today, he supposes.

He turns back slowly, barely able to make out the two figures he'd missed on the first glance on the other side of the room– though it's hard to mistake the flourish of the Hydro Archon, even in the dark. It's the other figure that makes the breath hitch in his throat, though.

Or maybe, more accurately, it freezes. So does his blood, his whole body even, locked in stasis for a long, tense moment– he can't see them clearly, but his instincts are going haywire. He can feel his vision almost rattle where it rests against his left shoulder, cold leaking through the layers of clothes and into his skin until he has to fight to suppress a shiver.

He'd always fancied himself the hunter– he was the one who dealt with unsavory folks, in the end. But he felt like a rabbit pinned beneath the crosshairs of a gun this time. He could almost feel the teeth of the bear trap snapping shut around him, crushing bone and flesh beneath cold metal.

For a long moment he thinks he feels fear.

And with a sharp click and a burst of light, it's gone and he takes a raspy, choked breath as he blinks away the blurriness in his vision, taking in the room illuminated by the lamp.

He's not sure what he sees is better, though.

Because his body knows that their Divinity is as real as the blood running through his veins.

So why do they remind him so much of himself? Why does he see the look of the boy who died in a pool of blood not his own in them?

It is a sick, cruel kind of familiar.

Wriothesley didn't believe in superstition– but that was born of the unknown. He knew, now. He could reach out and touch the truth with his own two hands.

The throne of the world was a lie.

The thing sitting on it bled red. And if it bled, it could die.

He clenched his fists tighter– and released, letting his shoulders slump with a huff and a half hearted chuckle. "I wasn't expecting you to be in possession of a wanted criminal when you sent me that letter." He could see the gears whirring in their heads, the subtle dampness in the air reminding him just how delicate a situation it truly was.

He wasn't particularly inclined to getting blasted by a jet of water today.

"Relax, I'm not going to spill to anyone else. Seriously– don't get my jacket wet. It's expensive and a nightmare to dry." His lips quirk into a half smile, but it twists into something almost genuine at the laugh covered up by a cough he hears from the Divine. Bingo.

"It's fine, Neuvillette. Let him go." Their voice is like honey dripping from their lips, and he has to close his jaw with his hand before they can see the way it dropped in his surprise. "Of course, most Divine. My apologies." He relaxes at the sharp click of his heels as he joins them on the bed, his posture far more relaxed then he's ever seen. The Hydro Archon, much to his confusion and amusement, is far too invested in playing with their hair to pay much attention to him now that things have calmed, evidently.

Huh.

They seemed pretty cozy about it, he noted. He guesses they three of them had some time to get acquainted.

"So..who's going to explain what the hell is going on?" He probed, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the three carefully– they all looked tired, but even through the exhaustion neither seemed inclined to stray too far from the Divine. "And what exactly your plan is? You can't keep hiding them here forever. Someone will sniff them out sooner or later."

"We are aware," Neuvillette interjects, lips pursed into a thin line and his thin brows furrowed. "But as I'm sure you've noticed, the hunt for the..forgive me, most Divine, but the hunt for the alleged imposter is still at it's peak."

He grumbles in acknowledgment, hanging up his cloak by the door and sliding out of his heavy coat, resting it over the back of a nearby chair. "Hm. Suppose that's why the patrols are so common now a days."

"I'm afraid so. As you can imagine, we cannot simply ask them to..stop the search. It would draw unwanted attention and suspicion. The Divine would be found immediately if we tried to bring them out of the city at the moment." Neuvillette added, looking proper and elegant, despite the circumstances– even in the face of the Divine and the Archon turning on him and tugging his hair into intricate braids. "So I hope you understand that it was a great risk to send you that letter."

He rubs his chin, huffing in amusement– a solid plan, maybe, but his power didn't extend too far out of the Fortress. He had his connections, sure, but what use were they when he had to get the, uh, "imposter" out of Fontaine? Smuggling them out wouldn't be easy, and then there's the point of where to take them they'd have to contend with.

"Yeah, yeah– I get it. But it's not like I can just smuggle them out or keep them in the fortress. Even if we got them out of the city, we'd have to find somewhere to bunker down, and if someone spots any of us lingering there.." Archons, what a mess he'd gotten himself into. He was really looking forward to the next time he could kick his feet up with a cup of tea.

"I understand. I have already made plans, in fact." Neuvillette hesitates, and he can feel the temperature drops a few degrees. "I..cannot share them in full at the moment, but it is not for a lack of trust." Neuvillette reasoned, hands folded neatly in his lap– not that it hid the way they shook slightly. He wanted to ask, but he thought better of it.

"Eh, I don't hold it against you. The walls have ears, even up here." He deflected, running a hand through his hair. He really hoped Sigewinne wouldn't ask too much when he gets back. "I trust your judgment." He hesitates for a long moment, pulling out a simple, neatly folded letter of his own.

"Memorize the code words, then burn it. I'll be waiting for your next letter." He murmurs, plucking his coat and cloak and tugging them back on one after another, shuffling back over to the latched door. He hesitates again, his hand lingering on the door.

"I just hope your plan is worth the risk, Neuvillette."

He leaves before he can respond, the harsh click of the door ringing in his ears even as he steps back into the shadows of the night.

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #imposter au #genshin cult au #genshin impact cult au #furina #neuvillette #wriothesley #furina in the back just awkwardly sitting there bc she aint fighting wrio KHSDKHFKHJ #she was there for his trial when he killed two adults as a CHILD shes not fighting the adult version no ty #also writing reader to be as lowkey eldritch horror as possible. they r just playing nice rn but :)#reader collecting fontaine chars like pokemon cards #anyway wow i wonder what his plan is...wonder who it is he's involved besides wrio.......haha #cough cough #:]#looks at my other fics. haha.........ha....#anyway #slowly bringing in the key players one by one but it's probably gonna be in multiples now #if u guess correctly who neuvi is making plans w u get a lopsided gold star sticker that says “good job!” :]#i promise the lore will make sense soon (it wont im making it up as i go along)#if u see any typos no u didnt #zzzzzzzzzzzz gn #fic tag

683 notes · View notes

mongeese · 2 years

Text

Love how Worf shows up on DS9 and is immediately like "hey why the fuck is Quark not in prison if you know he regularly breaks the law" bc he's objectively right when you consider the rules in-universe. The only reason he isn't in prison is bc everyone has decided Quark is too entertaining to get rid of. Plus he and Odo need to have their gay little rivalry

#worf i love you #ds9 #star trek #if u see the version with a typo no u didnt. reblog the edited one

797 notes · View notes

epiphyllous · 2 years

Text

Visitation Rights (Malleus/Reader) [1/3]

Malleus invites you over to help him celebrate Christmas, a human holiday. Neither of you think about what it all means for you to visit him, in the grand scheme of things (ft. Diasomnia). word count: ~3.8k notes: malleus x reader, gender-neutral reader "you", pre-relationship, mutual pining, you celebrate Christmas, heavily Diasomnia dorm!! (i love them)

[Part 2]

You breathe out a cloud of mist as you step out from the Dark Mirror and into an open field. You’ve been visualizing this very scenery as best as you could, chanting Briar Valley over and over, just to make sure you didn’t end up in the wrong place and get stranded.

You’re glad you decided to layer up as best as you could, heeding Malleus’ lukewarm warning that it ‘might’ be cold. And considering how much hardier a fae could be, well… You’re just glad to be able to use your winter boots and mittens for once. Though, your hands are cold for more reasons other than the temperature.

One doesn’t visit the fae prince in his homeland without being at least a little nervous. (And one that you may have budding feelings for is another matter entirely.)

Malleus seemed eager to have you over to decorate his home for the holidays, excited to celebrate a ‘human’ tradition like Christmas. (And by eager, you mean insistent; and by excited, you mean, only to you. You doubt any of your other friends would understand his volley of questions about Christmas was Malleus being ready to celebrate.) You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your family hasn’t celebrated in years either aside from a few gift exchanges and holiday foods, but you suppose it isn’t like you’ve forgotten how to decorate a tree or make a few paper snowflakes.

It’s only when you walk down the snow-lain path and lay your eyes on a grand stone castle that you remember that you really have other things to worry about besides the topping of the Christmas tree. Like being in a castle, for one.

(You find it easy to treat Malleus like any other person because school is an equalizer in status. You don't see the fae prince at Night Raven College; you just see Malleus: technologically challenged, secretly needy, adorably curious, and deeply devoted. It is why you find it so difficult to remember who he is outside of campus.)

“What are you standing there gaping like a fish for, human?” Sebek asks, walking up to you with Silver beside him.

You keep your mouth open. “I forgot the castle was huge,” you say lamely.

“I don’t think the young master wants to decorate the entire place,” Silver says, saving you from saying what you actually meant– you forgot Malleus lived in a castle. (The amount of times you feel blindsided by a fact that is readily known to everyone– Malleus is a prince– is astonishing.) “Perhaps the dining room and a hallway.”

“...Right,” you settle for saying, glancing over at him. “Oh! Sebek!” You grins at him. “You’re in uniform! Very guardsman of you. Reminds me of the nutcracker outfit.”

Sebek huffs, and you mildly think he’s like a peacock, preening. “Of course. One cannot slack on his duties as a guardsman on holiday” he says, looking over at Silver with triumph.

Silver only sighs. “The young master requested we put on… holiday clothing. He didn’t have any examples, so I decided to just dress for the weather.”

“You look good in the blue sweater,” You say easily. “If you wanted to make it a ‘holiday sweater’ you just have to make it uglier somehow.”

“...Uglier?”

“Why are we just standing here?” Sebek interjects, and you can only sheepishly smile at him. “The young master will be waiting for us to return! Let’s not waste another moment!”

And off you go into a wintry wonderland.

In a land of fae, humans are rarely seen. A few decades can be nothing more than a blip in the long lives that they lead, which is why when Silver walks through the gates of the Fairy castle, some guards still stare at him with undisguised curiosity. As both a human and as a man endowed with a unique set of eyes and hair, his presence as the fae prince’s guardman gives him no break in scrutiny even though almost twenty years have passed.

Considering the attention that Silver gets until now, it is no wonder that you draw the eyes of everyone in the near vicinity, especially as you walk through the castle as the fae prince’s esteemed guest. Are you royalty? Do you have any fae blood in you? Are you a powerful mage? (Perhaps someday.) It is the absence of all these, to make you completely normal, that makes you all the more curious to see.

You walk in between Silver and Sebek and pretend to not know they are watching.

“I’ve been wondering,” you say, as you walk past the main hall, “is the queen- erm, is Malleus’ grandma home?”

You almost bump into Silver the way he stops abruptly to turn and look at her. “You-” Silver gapes at her, and it’s the most visibly surprised you have ever seen him. “You want to meet the queen?”

“Malleus’ grandma,” you insist. “If she’s not home, it’s fine. I just thought it would be weird if she was home and I didn’t stop by and say ‘hi.’” You frown when Silver just continues to stare and wonders if you’ve gotten the family tree wrong.

…Or maybe it’s one of those things where it’s different because Malleus is royalty.

“No? Is it weirder if I did meet her?” You continue, starting to get nervous at the silence from even Sebek. “Is she busy? I just don’t want her to think I’m being rude if I don’t come to greet her at least.”

“Human, calm yourself,” Sebek says, huffing. If he looks partially impressed, he doesn’t say anything. “On most occasions, a visit to the castle would warrant an audience with the queen.”

“But she’s not here right now,” Silver says. He cracks a smile. “I should know better now than to be surprised you’re not afraid of meeting the Queen of Briar Valley.”

“I never said I wouldn’t be,” you mutter. “I’d rather meet her than have her think I’m some delinquent student with no manners meeting her grandson.”

If Silver had any thoughts to share on this matter– that you were ridiculous for worrying over something like that instead of the possibility of offending a powerful queen– he didn’t share them. Instead, he watches you step into the dining hall repurposed for this holiday. “The young master told the guards to fetch the largest pine in the area,” he explains, amused at your evident shock. “So they did.”

“This is a three-day project,” he hears you say absently. Silver looks at the deep green pine that towers over them in a ten-meter loom and feels oddly proud for finding it. Sebek hasn’t stopped glaring at him for the past week for it.

Malleus is giddy. It is a word ill-befitting of his appearance and status, but there is no other explanation for his actions.

Fae are not known to fatigue easily, but Malleus has not felt the need to sleep ever since you last told him that you were able to come to Briar Valley. Since then, he’s collected every appropriate ornament he could procure from human markets that celebrate Christmas– from stars to snow globes to these human-esque figurines they call ‘angels.’ For a holiday dinner, he asked Lilia for recipes (dubious) and mostly took long hours online trying to find some more. And if he’ll be honest, that’s the one part of his quest that has taken him the most time, as inept as he is with modern technology such as the internet or the smartphone.

He is getting better with how prolific his friends text him, but it still takes him the same amount for him to write one message back to you as it does for you to write ten. He finds that he does not mind that much though; he likes knowing that you enjoy his company to write to him as much as you do.

Oddly enough, even though he knows this, he finds himself… nervous when he’s been informed that you have arrived.

It will be his first time playing host to a guest, among others. Certainly, he’s had political guests from nearby lands; princesses, princes, and counts that he has had no choice but to memorize their names. But this is you: his friend, his underclassman, his– well, your presence definitely meant a lot more to him than any dignitary from a wealthy family.

Malleus wants you to enjoy your time here.

He walks to the dining room where he can hear your voice rise in excitement, and the anxiety bleeds out in favor of the thought that he would see you again. The sight of the real you in front of him is better than any other image he could have conjured.

“Malleus!” He hears you call out, and his smile follows after yours like the tide to the moon.

You look at the lines of boxes of decor that Malleus has brought into the dining room with a brief thought that all of these must have cost a fortune.

“Did you just find whatever you could about Christmas?” You ask, as a joke.

Malleus only nods. “Yes,” he says simply. “Do they suit the needs for our decorations?”

You find it hard to think anyone in the world who celebrates Christmas would be remiss with all the different types of decor that was in the room in neat boxes. Taking out one from the pile, you open it and do not bother suppressing a smile when Malleus, Silver, and Sebek, who cannot resist his own curiosity despite his aversion, peek over your shoulders to see what is inside.

There is garland for miles, light fixtures for the tree and elsewhere, snow globes and socks to hang over the fireplace. Ornaments to hang on the tree, banners and wreaths to hang on walls and doors, and even figurines like nutcrackers and reindeer to place on a mantel. If there was ever a decoration to be used in Christmas, they are there in one of the many boxes that have been collected.

You would have thought it would be overwhelming to deal with so many choices, but instead, you find yourself excited at the prospect of having the creative liberty to choose from a wide variety of decor. It helps that Malleus’ eyes are attentively taking in every single material you have pulled out, and that even Silver and Sebek are arguing about what decoration should be placed and in what order.

“I think we can start with the tree first…” you say. “I think it’s the main event, so I figured we could do it since we’re all decorating it together.”

“Hmph, since you are the more knowledgeable one for this holiday, I will allow you to call the shots for today,” Sebek says, and you gleefully think that’s more than enough of a concession from Sebek than you could ever ask for.

“Alright, so I think we should start at the top going down with decorations,” you list off thoughtfully, “do bigger decor, lights, then the ornaments…”

It is not as difficult to decorate the tree as you would have thought. For one, as much as Sebek and Silver bicker (mostly Sebek), they work well together because they are simply competent in what they set out to do. There was a fuss as to what garland should be placed on, but considering the size of the tree, it wouldn’t have mattered if everything was piled on.

As the two flew around the tree to place the garland on, you work on untangling the Christmas lights from their boxes, which seems to be a difficulty even with magic involved.

“Urgh…” You huff, dropping your arms in exhaustion from carrying what feels to be tons of lights. “No matter how well I packed them, even at home, they always end up all messed up like this.”

“Yes, these… wires seem susceptible to being entwined,” Malleus agrees. “And you say that they are supposed to be lit up based on… electricity?”

“Not too much,” you reply. “Or else you fry the light bulb’s circuit. See that tiny wire in the middle of it all?” You smile when Malleus bends down and peers closer at the Christmas light in your palm even though his hands are full of them. “We’ll want to connect it to an outlet with enough amps to power them without-”

Your eyes widen. “Wait, you don’t have any outlets, do you? You always use magic! I can’t believe I forgot-”

Malleus takes a gloved hand and places it on the metallic prongs on the end of the wires, and the Christmas lights turn on.

“I see what you mean by not putting too much power into it,” Malleus comments, as though you aren't looking at him with a look even brighter than the lights.

“My, my,” Lilia says, whistling as he enters the dining hall. He looks at the tree which is partially decorated with garland and lights and nods in approval. “It seems the four of you are having fun. How’s the progress?”

“It’s… going,” you say mildly. “We’re going to put the ornaments on soon, but I think we’re a little stuck on what theme we should be going for?”

Lilia blinks. “Whatever do you mean? It looks fine to me so far.”

“I know, but we’re arguing on what to put as a topper since that’ll finish the look, so-”

“Obviously,” Sebek says, “a statue of the young master should be on top.”

“And how would we get that?” Silver replies, voice even with the familiarity of arguing with Sebek. “We have other things we can choose from. We have a star,” a golden one, “an… angel,” with wings and halo, “this snowman,” with a top hat, “or this… old man with a red and white suit.”

“That’s Santa,” you pop up. “We usually tell the kids in our town that he would bring presents on a magical sleigh pulled by a few reindeer, and he would climb down the chimney to drop the presents off underneath the tree.”

“How would he fit down each chimney?” Malleus asks, hand propped on his chin thoughtfully. “What if the house has no chimney?”

“Well-”

“That is besides the point!” Sebek says fervently as you grins at him sheepishly. “If we place a symbol of the young master on top of the tree, the decor should be green!”

“Green on a green tree?” Silver sighs. “I’m not an interior designer but that won’t be as eye-popping as red or even silver and gold.”

“Sounds like quite the conundrum,” Lilia says lightly. If he is amused by how passionate the two guardsmen are over decorations for a human holiday they discovered not two weeks ago, he does not show it. “What does Malleus think?”

The four of them look toward Malleus who blinks at the attention. “How about a star on top? The decorations can be of any color, size, or shape as a result.”

Lilia claps his hands. “That’s settled.”

“Well, actually…” You say, trailing when the four Diasomnia members look at you. You bring up four different kinds of star toppers, much to half of their horror and to Lilia’s glee. “Which star do we want then?”

Malleus watches as you sit down in a huff next to him on the couch they dragged closer to the fireplace. You stretch your arms, saying something about snack-time as you both wait for Sebek, Silver, and Lilia to come back with much needed drinks and food for your break. Your shoulder and thigh end up touching his, and he finds that despite the fact they have plenty of room on the couch to be a distance from each other, he deigns not to mention it in case you decide to move away.

“Who knew Sebek and Silver would get so excited over ornaments,” you comment, laughter in your voice. It’s teasing when you address him, “They’re almost as excited as you to decorate the whole place up.”

There is always a funny feeling in his chest whenever you tease him– a mix of embarrassment and happiness to be known well enough to be spoken to so familiarly. He has yet to learn how to deliver a similar response back as readily as you do, but he is beginning to learn wherever he can. Besides, you don't seem to mind his straightforward comments.

“Yes, it is quite a surprise to me too. But I suppose it is hard not to be,” Malleus says, “when we have someone such as you to encourage and guide us.” He’s gratified when he sees you hide a pleased smile behind your hand.

“Oh, stop,” you say, laughing, and he’s learned to understand that he’s welcome to continue his praise any time. “I’m so glad you decided to invite me to celebrate with you. This is the funnest I’ve had decorating for Christmas in ages.” You go to admire the tree and he turns to watch with you, only for him to look back briefly when he feels you lean into him, eyes still looking forward.

He lets you lean, a small smile on his face.

Malleus knows that Silver and Sebek may sometimes have their qualms with his human choice of close companionship, but he feels grateful to know that they have your back in the face of Lilia’s cooking.

You insist that you should try just a tiny bite, just to see what all the fuss is about, but all three of them are adamant about keeping you in the dark about the horror that lies behind Lilia’s gastronomy skills. Lilia is mildly confused but more than welcome to give more to the rest of the Diasomnia dorm if they are so eager to take your portion. Sebek blanches but stays true to his resolve, and even Silver, who looks tempted to fall asleep on the spot (or even pretend to if he cannot induce it) furrows his brows and bears it.

Malleus should have known better than to think he would ever be able to stop you from doing what you want to do.

You take a bite out of the gingersnap cookie faster than any of them can react. The four of them stare (three in apprehension, one in anticipation). You stop chewing after the third time and open your mouth.

“Lilia… What did you put in this?”

“Oh, ginger, of course.”

“...Anything else?”

“...and garlic, all spice, honey, turmeric-”

“I thought this was gingersnap?!”

You swallow your piece and take another just to be polite, but you and Lilia end up talking about the concept of a “balanced diet” and how not each dish has to be balanced to achieve a balanced diet. They aren’t sure if Lilia will get it, but perhaps an outsider’s opinion will finally change things for the better around here– and this thought is coming from even Sebek.

Lilia seems thoughtful, not offended at all by the way you are framing the situation, talking about masking the aroma of the original dish by throwing in too many ingredients. When Lilia decides to try changing his style of cooking, they think perhaps the human legend of a Christmas miracle is real.

Change is not instant, unfortunately.

The other three, while Lilia is distracted, quietly slide their large portion of cookies to the serving plate and hope no one but them notices.

You don’t quite finish the tree that day, much to Sebek’s dismay. Your reassurance that you thought it would take more than three days goes unheeded as Sebek vows to complete the tree spectacularly tomorrow.

Dinner at the Fairy Castle is a much quieter affair than you anticipated, but then again, your image of a castle is immensely more fairytale than what it seems to be. The five of them eat dinner deliciously set out by the chef, and the food, at least, is exactly how you imagined it to be.

When Silver and Sebek turn in for the night, Lilia and Malleus show you to your room, and it's much bigger than any bedroom of yours have any right to be. The bed is a queen-size or king-size bed, though you can hardly tell the difference besides the fact it can fit more than four of you onto one. The view from the window is astonishingly grand, and the stars are clearly visible from this height even without a telescope.

Lilia bids you good night and it is just the two of you left in the room. You can feel your eyes drooping but you smile sleepily at Malleus who lingers at the door. "You wanna watch the stars before I fall asleep?" You ask and like clockwork, the two of you end up sitting by the windowsill, pointing at the constellations you can identify.

Malleus, of course, knows much more than you do, having seen the same set of stars for the past century. You don't give up though, pointing out the other planets, hoping you actually remember the placement of them. It isn't long until you have him creating different constellations with you, playing connect the dots with much more celestial parts. In some ways, this is familiar— the way you guide Malleus through a silly detour to expand the way he looks at things.

"And there," you say, aligning the stars, "is the broom Azul keeps falling off during P.E."

"Is that so?" Malleus says in amusement. "How can you differentiate between brooms in the night sky?"

And this too– Malleus indulging in your sense of humor, playing along to the very end- has become a very familiar thing. He looks over to you with a focus that goes unnoticed as your eyes flutter in drowsiness.

You can still giggle though. "It's because it's upright," you say, laughing at your own joke.

Malleus likes this side of you too, partly delirious from sleepiness, inhibitions stripped by the presence of the dark and the way a day of hard work seeps into your bones. He thinks it's about time for you to fall asleep, though he would not mind staying up all night with you. “Are you falling asleep?” He asks, letting you lean onto him.

“I guess so,” you reply, yawning. You rub your eyes. “I’ll get in bed before I snooze on you.” You smile at him, and he only just resists telling you that he would be more than happy to lend his shoulder for you to sleep on.

Perhaps another night.

“Good night, child of man,” Malleus says, watching you snuggle into a bed that more than dwarfs your figure. He hears you mumble a ‘good night’ and it is not long until you fall asleep.

You trust him to sleep in his presence; every time this happens, Malleus is still in awe. Your chest rises steadily with each breath you take, and Malleus takes his hand to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. He wishes you sweet dreams and makes the room dark.

Christmas is approaching.

#malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia #twst #look at them..... i love them.....#ive never been so excited for christmas LMAO #yeah im 3 months early but its a 3 part thing so #edit: AHHHH TYPOS u didnt see anything

748 notes · View notes

garbageboy-stinkman · 9 days

Text

Excited to share that I finally decided to write and post an incredibly self-indulgent Zosan AU I've been working on for a while now!

Summary:

After leaving the security of Momoiro Island and reuniting with her friends at Sabaody, Sanji still hadn't found the confidence to come out. Instead, she's been snatching any time she can get to herself whenever the Sunny docked to be just an anonymous woman in the crowd. Following the events at Whole Cake and Wano, however that wasn't enough anymore; Sanji wanted to share this part of herself with the people she loved most.

And she really did plan to tell the crew, but when she finds herself accidentally dating Zoro, things start getting complicated.

#one piece #zosan #my fic #literally babies first fanfiction 😭😭😭#if u see any typos no you didnt #whatshername

26 notes · View notes

powderblueblood · 3 months

Text

GETTING TO KNOW YOUR EDDIE

— the 411 on the loser playboy of the midwestern world

Tagged by @jo-harrington & @deathbecomesthem who got this stunning prompt on the road, love this love youse

let’s talk MUNSON!

What story is he from? What kind of story is it (Fix-it fic, Older!Eddie, Rockstar!Eddie etc)? The Eddie darling that takes up prime real estate in my brain is of course Hellfire & Ice Eddie, which is a teen romantic-dramadey with sprinkles of crime capers on top. We meet him at 18 years of age, drug dealin’, Dungeon wheelin’, at the absolute top of his bottom of the food chain game. He’s all raw nerve and engine sputter, our consummate not ready for prime time player. He is brassy, ballsy, funny, terrified.

What inspired you to write this Eddie? Flight of Icarus, actually! It reignited my initial love for him by basically confirming what I had already known to be true—he’s a little bitch that’ll take any opportunity to be struck down lovesick and he’s doomed by his bloodline.

What are your favorite headcanons about him/share something you never shared in your story? Eddie runs on a full tank of defiance, just burning rubber against what’s expected of kids his age—but to zoom in? Eddie sometimes wonders what it would be like if he was different. Tried harder. Cut his hair, joined the basketball team, really pulled himself up by his bootstraps and divorced himself from his stain of a last name. Folded in and blended, made all the right moves. Why couldn’t I do that? he thinks, Just pretend. I’m good at making shit up. But that’s selling out. And Eddie Munson is no sell out—rap sheet or no, his life is his own.

What does he wear on a casual day? On a dressier day? What does he wear to bed? Casual day, it’s your cartoon character stock costume of insert band t-shirt here, ripped jeans there, doubled up battle vest and leather cut to top it all off. There might be a variant in jean shade but that’s it. He likes to stick to a look. The dressiest he’ll go (he does not own dressy clothes) is a black cable knit sweater, very old, with the thumb holes worried through the cuffs. To bed, preferably nothing, but boxers of absolutely necessary and a very old, ratty pair of flannel PJ bottoms and an old t-shirt or a faded sweatshirt of Wayne’s if it’s freezing.

Favorite foods? This FUCK loves a pizza with the most fuckass toppings. Anchovy, black olive, pepperoni, sweetcorn (for the vitamins!), pineapple (for the jizz thing!) all on the one pie. But he can cook, to an extent, and we unfortunately have to hand this to ex-line cook Al who taught him how to grill a cheese and make a bitchin’ spaghetti with honeyed tomato gravy and lots of oregano. Eddie also loves a snack he can gesticulate with, see: Twizzler, corn dog, ice pop. Bordering on phallic foods.

Tell Us About His Family/Friends: Immediately in the gene pool—Al, the absent and up-to-no-good father who somehow still has a knife in Eddie’s side and will twist it with the simple words, “C’mon, that’s my boy!” Wayne, uncle and father figure, silent but loving and the only real pillar Eddie could ever lean against, and he feels like such a burden for it sometimes. Elizabeth, mommy dearest and dead, canonised like a saint in Eddie’s mind, and might have been but also might not have been. The root of his love of music and his need to tell stories to survive. The found-by-the-hand-of fate family— Ronnie Ecker, the Stalter to his Waldorf, the Bonham to his Page, the only person he’d ever follow into battle because you wouldn’t think it but Ronnie, who is secretly rage akimbo, would accidentally lead that charge. He loves her like a sister, she loves him like a dog. Just kidding. Maybe. He wants to be Ronnie Ecker when he grows up. Granny Ecker comes as part of this deal, one of the people credited with whooping Eddie into shape. We don’t quite know what shape yet, it’s Picassoan in nature. Then, the extension again that is the great Corroded Coffin/Hellfire crossover event—Jeff, Cyrus, Dougie and Gareth. He’s not quite as close with the boys, but they’re good boys. They love and fear him, except for Cyrus who is a true enigma which pisses Eddie off because he’s supposed to be the fucking enigma here, dammit.

Yeah Yeah, he's a Metalhead. Tell Us MORE About His Taste in Music in your story: We are working off Flight of Icarus rules so he’s got a taste in the mouth for Howlin’ Wolf style blues, real down and dirty Detroit shit. He also loves a sleazeball, so enter Tom Waits and when he’s feeling REALLY sentimental, Leonard Cohen. Eddie loves to bite a thumb so he has some punk spinning too—Richard Hell, MC5, The Cramps, and reluctantly Iggy and the Stooges. They’re Al’s favourite so kind of tainted. Last but not least, I think that Johnny Cash’s Live From Folsom Prison album gets a lot of play. Particularly Cocaine Blues and Dark in the Dungeon, which he’s definitely incorporated into some campaign. He does NOT listen to CHICK MUSIC because he’s a loser boy (Wayne has a Linda Ronstadt record that makes him cry).

What are his views on romance? On sex? Eddie Munson falls in love fourteen times a day because at the be all and end all, he’s an artist and he’s sensitive as shit. Let’s get one thing straight—he can flirt to beat the band, once anyone gives him the time of day. Which they don’t. But in his mind? He’s a silver tongued Casanova. It’s just easier to use on people he hates. Once he has a crush, he has an obsession, even if he’s oftentimes too chickenshit to act on it. Cue pulling pigtails in the playground routine. He wants so badly to worship someone and be worshipped in return, okay, it’s reciprocal worshipping—give him mutual pathological obsession or give him DEATH. He wants to build a shrine, and will, to the right person. He’ll preoccupy his mind with every detail about them to the point where, yeah, it is borderline kind of stalkery but he’s still 18 years old. Speaking of, sex? Yeah, he’s done it. Badly. He’s like to do it again, goodly. He’d like to do it with someone that wasn’t treating it like an experiment, someone who’d let him slobber all over them and rut and keen and whine like the hound in heat he fucking feels like. He has no goddamn control! He experiences pleasure in a total headrush, never been able to stay cool and sexy and commanding a day in his life. He just wants, wants, wants and he burns so hot. Eddie wants so clumsily that it comes out at the most inappropriate times, like the nurse’s office after he gets his fist busted. He’s not some sex god, just some dick with an overeager cock. But he sure is willing to put in the work.

Is he optimistic or pessimistic? Pessimistic on the surface, the life is shit and then you die so might as well do some whippits poster boy but so so secretly, Eddie holds the tiniest flame of hope that someday, somehow, things will get better. At the very least easier. That he’ll grow into his bones somehow, or someone will help soothe him into them. That he’ll feel some kind of belonging. Because he does want that, really. Some soft place to land.

Where or with whom is he most comfortable? Those pockets of alchemy at Hellfire Club when he’s got a rapt audience. With Ronnie, sitting on the sagging couch outside his trailer. Playing chauffeur to a certain princess across-the-way.

What are his views of his future? What are his hopes/dreams? Pie in the sky? Cover of Circus with his cheeks out, duh. A Grammy or two, his own metal club, a published fantasy author, shit. He’s not askin’ for the world, here! But honestly, Eddie’s view of his future is 18 year old misanthropist bleak. He hasn’t even considered college as an option, not that he’d get there with his grades. He figures he might just start selling full time for Rick once (if) he graduates then hopefully have the good enough sense to take his money and split to Chicago or someplace. Might hit it lucky when he’s played in a couple more iterations of Corroded Coffin and con someone into letting him be a session guitarist—which wouldn’t be the cover of Circus, but would still be a huge deal! But as much as an ego game as he likes to talk, he’s got this terrible, looming feeling that he’ll never leave Hawkins alive.

What do you imagine his future looks like? (If your story is incomplete or if this would be a spoiler you're not willing to share, you can skip this question.) I’ll give you a couple details, because I am writing a sequel about this. Picture a brief stint in Indianapolis. Meaner, grizzlier, bartender-ier, going on a decade of heartbreak, performing at his sexual best but nearing burnout and about to turn 30 with some side dealings at home that are edging out of the side and into the forefront. Heavy is the hand that wears the ring. You look so much like your father!

Anything else you'd like us to know about your Eddie/your story? He is so full of love and piss and vinegar. He is going to end up cherished. Like, violently so.

Optional Vulnerable Question: Why do you write fics for Eddie Munson? I love a tragedy touched smartass who folds at the first sign of affection. I want to nourish him and eat him up like the witch from Hansel and Gretel. Or have Lacy do it for me, whatever.

tagging: YOU. READING THIS. Not KIDDING IF YOURE READING THIS GET TO WORK

#YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYY #you can tell I came up through rp by reading this #wrote on mobile so if you see typos NO U DIDNT!#e. munson by powder #hai brainrot

28 notes · View notes

barry-j-blupjeans · 2 years

Text

"Can I be honest for a second?" Magnus asked, which was always a good way to start a conversation. Lucretia paused, her hand stalling over the drawing she had been doing of him. Magnus was sitting cross-legged on her bed, trying to figure out the Fantasy Rubik's Cube that Taako had given him earlier. Lucretia had no plans of telling him it was enchanted to never be able to solve.

"If you want to be?" Lucretia said.

"I'm..." Magnus glanced over his shoulder as if someone would be listening in on them. Lucretia was pretty sure that if anyone wanted to do that, they would have given up fifteen minutes ago when Magnus started yelling at the Rubik's Cube. "I lied. On my application."

Not so subtly, Lucretia opened to a new page in her journal.

"Oh?" she said.

"Not like, a big lie," Magnus said. "In fact, it probably doesn't even matter anymore, because technically it's not a lie anymore. But I feel bad about it. And I figured that no one can really kick me off the ship anymore, with the resets and everything, so!"

"You've intrigued me," Lucretia said. "Go on."

"I'm not actually twenty-two," Magnus said. "Or, I wasn't. I'm twenty-one."

"I already knew that," Lucretia said, slightly disappointed. She was hoping for something like "I killed Greg Grimaldis before Lup got the chance to" or "last cycle when I said I didn't steal your hair conditioner, I actually did, I'm so sorry, I'll buy you some more" or even something like "It's actually me that's been eating all the dirt from Merle's greenhouse, I'm just letting Merle take the blame."

Maybe the lack of drama is something she should be thankful for what with the yearly apocalypse.

"What!?" Magnus said, dropping the Rubik's Cube. "How??"

"Davenport had me do background checks on everyone before we left," Lucretia said. "You lying about your age is not the worst thing I found on you, Magnus."

"Well now I wanna know what was the worst thing you found," Magnus said, leaning forward.

"You got kicked out of your middle school football team because you punched your teammate. That also got you suspended."

"Darwin deserved it and I stand by that," Magnus said, lifting his nose into his air. Lucretia chuckled. "What else you got? Anyone else get suspended? Ooh, ooh! How old are Taako and Lup actually? Because they said they were four-twenty but I think they're just fucking with me."

"I can't disclose that information," Lucretia said. Magnus groaned, rolling his eyes. "But one time Barry got detention for throwing a pickle in someone's face and hitting them in the eye."

"Oh hell yes," Magnus said. "Give me more."

"Merle's got a criminal credit on the account that he has repeatedly tried to steal various plants from different areas, including the IPRE's director's office."

"Sounds about right!"

"Taako was one admitted to a hospital for severe burns on the same day Lup conveniently nearly got arrested for setting a store on fire," Lucretia said, getting into it now. "Davenport's got six older siblings and four younger ones. Merle got caught eating mulch from Fantasy Home Depot's garden department. I'm actually nineteen. Barry is banned from a Fantasy Party City in a town called Redwater because-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Magnus said. "Repeat that again."

"Barry got banned from-"

"No, the one before that," Magnus said. "You're nineteen?"

"You just told me you lied about your age too!" Lucretia said. "If anything, I was just following your lead."

"I added six months to my age!" Magnus said. "Not- not-"

"Four years," Lucretia said before she could stop herself. Damn. She needed to stop talking.

"How the hell did I think you were twenty-three," Magnus said, staring at her. "You look so young!"

"You told me literally yesterday I looked like I could be thirty," Lucretia said drily.

"That was a joke," Magnus dismissed. "Luce. Lucretia. Oh my gods."

"Magnus, please-"

"You let everyone make fun of me for being the youngest for the past six years!" Magnus said, throwing his hands up into the air. "Six years, Lucretia! And you never thought to help me once?"

"It was pretty funny," Lucretia said.

"It was not," Magnus said. "I can't believe you. How could you do this to me?" He turned his head away dramatically. Lucretia rolled her eyes. "I feel like I don't even know you anymore, Lucretia."

"I think being the youngest is more of a mind frame at this point," Lucretia said. Magnus huffed. "And you just proved my point, thank you."

"I'm gonna tell Dav," Magnus said.

"You can't," Lucretia said.

"I can," Magnus said, delightedly. He started to get up from the bed.

"You won't," Lucretia corrected. "No one will ever believe you."

Magnus paused, halfway off the bed. He narrowed his eyes at Lucretia.

"You're nineteen," Magnus said. "You can't tell me what to do. I'm older than you." He was grinning again. "I'm your superior now, Luce!"

"I'm not sure that's how it works," Lucretia said, but Magnus was already launching himself towards the door. She sighed, watching him throw it open and run down the hall. There was a faint shout of the word "nineteen!" and a very loud yelp from Barry that followed.

Lucretia turned back to her journal and continued to draw. Maybe she'd be able to sketch in peace before someone else burst in here.

#lucretia #magnus burnsides #taz #taz balance #taz stolen century #mine #ise cube writing #a weird lil thing that i wanted to do #getting the words out for this was Hard oof but it's the best I got sldfsd #just didnt wanna lose the idea #if u see typos no u dont!

819 notes · View notes

from-a-reckless-writer · 2 years

Note

i forget if you’re still doing the prompt list, but if you are and haven’t done #13 it would be really cool :) you’re a really great writer so i think it would be interesting but anyways i’ll leave you be now bye :)

Alex is already getting ready for bed when her phone chimes in the dark. She picks it up from the nightstand--it's Ruby.

1 new message.

RUBY <3: AUNT ALEXX!! HAVE U SEEN THIS??

And no, she has not seen it.

There's a Youtube link attached with Kara's name mentioned. She fires off a quick, 'no, checking it out rn.' before clicking on it.

More press junket for Kara’s film, no doubt. Her sister is still in Asia promoting the film, they haven’t seen each other in months. They call each other every single day though, but still, Alex misses her so much she would willingly watch Kara's latest Youtube video near midnight if only to see a glimpse of how she is.

The link opens, and it’s one of those CatCo celebrity vids.

"Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor Answer the Web's Most Searched Questions"

Oh.

Oh, no.

Alex can already see where this is going, if the thumbnail of Kara laughing with her hand on Lena's thigh is anything to go by.

She braces herself and presses play.

******

"Hi, my name is Lena Luthor-" Lena says, smiling brightly at the camera.

“I'm Kara Danvers-" Kara's grin equally as bright.

"And today we're here with CatCo to answer the web's most searched questions."

Somebody hands Lena a little board. "Is Lena Luthor—" the board reads.

"Wait, wait, here, let me hold it for you, I'll read. You answer," Her sister instructs, grabbing the board from Lena's hands ever the considerate gentlewoman.

Kara peels off the white sticker and reads the first one, "Is Lena Luthor Irish?"

"Hm, as you all know, I'm adopted," Lena tells the camera, "which- thank God, I'm not genetically linked to Lex Luthor."

"I don't know," Kara interrupts, "I think you can rock the Bald Lena Luthor look."

"Shhh, don't give the internet any ideas." Lena hits her lightly on the arm.

And okay, it's not too bad. Yet, Alex thinks. Not too bad yet.

"As I was saying,” Lena pointedly says, "before I was so rudely interrupted, I'm adopted. But I haven't really looked much into it. So, I don't? Really know?" Lena shrugs. "Maybe I'm Irish, maybe I’m not. We'll see."

"Ohh, maybe we should take one of those 23andMe kits!" Kara exclaims, eyes lighting up.

"Oh, yeah," Lena nods, "I've heard of those. We should do that. That sounds cool."

"Stay updated guys," Kara announces, pointing to the camera, her silent audience. "We'll let you know if Lena really is Irish or not."

Turning back to Lena, she asks, "Wait, but where'd you get the accent though? I think that's why people are asking. You have an accent you know."

"Oh, that's easy," Lena says, "I went to boarding school in Dublin."

"Oooh, hear that guys? Lena Luthor is a preppy."

Lena rolls her eyes fondly, and ah, there it is; the smitten look Alex had seen one too many times.

God, they're so fucking stupid.

******

"Is Lena Luthor villain?" Kara squints, and then raises one finger. "A villain," she corrects, "'Is Lena Luthor a villain?' Come on guys, grammar."

Trust Kara Danvers to be annoyed about improper grammar in web searches.

"Yes," Lena confirms, nodding slowly. "I am, in fact, a villain."

"A very hot villain, if I might add," Kara chimes in.

This makes Alex groans loud enough that she feels Kelly shift next to her at the noise.

"Kara, shut up," Alex hears Lena quip, dragging her attention back to the screen. "As I was saying, yes, I did in fact play the antagonist in 'Trinity'. Directed by the one and only Cat Grant. Without whom, we would not be here. So, thank you Cat Grant."

"She played the really super hot evil dictator there. You should totally watch it guys."

"Oh my god, Kara!"

Oh my god, Kara.

Alex manages to suppress her groan this time. Even though what Kara says next sickens her further.

"What? It's true!" Kara protests as Lena shakes her head, tries to shrink away and die quietly. "You used your boobs for evil, Lena" Kara whispers.

"Oh my god." Lena looks so exasperated and embarrased. A bright blush painting her cheeks.

"Please just edit that out," Lena pleads with the camera.

God, why did nobody edit it out? Alex shakes her head, the secondhand embarrassment dripping through the screen and seeping into her bones. Jesus Christ, she can't believe this is her sister. She stares at the red line at the bottom; 3 minutes down, 12 fucking more to go.

******

"Is Lena Luthor vampire?" Kara reads before bursting out into loud laughter. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry this is just so funny. God, Lena, are you a vampire???"

"Is this what those 'ma'am bite me' tweets are about?" Lena asks, eyes widening, and Alex makes a mental note to bombard Lena with as many thirst tweets as possible tomorrow morning.

"Yes," Kara answers her, still laughing. "Sorry this is so freaking funny. I can't-"

The shot cuts and transitions to the next question.

******

"Is Lena Luthor MIT?"

"Did I go to MIT? Yes, yes I did."

"Yeah, guys, don't you know we're in the presence of a genius."

Alex shakes her head. Good God, Kara, could you be more obvious?

"I have a BioChem degree that I don't use, because, and as my mother loves to put it so very eloquently, 'I went and ran off with the circus.'."

"Hey, Lillian is nice though," Kara argues.

Of course, Kara would say that.

"You're just saying that 'cos you want to suck up," Lena counters as Kara pouts.

Exactly, Lena, exactly, Alex agrees.

"No, I'm not!" Kara defends herself, before turning away from Lena and facing the camera. "Okay, Lillian, please don't listen to your daughter. I genuinely think you're lovely, and we will see you next Friday dinner.”

Great, Alex thinks. This interview will no doubt awaken their thousand sapphic shippers. God, she really wishes she could just smack Kara on the head sometimes.

"Is Lena Luthor sister of Lex?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Lena answers. "We’re siblings. I grew up with a monster. Anybody with a brother knows the feeling." She turns to the camera, voice dripping in sarcasm, before smiling and shaking her head. "No, I'm just kidding, I like Lex well enough to bring him to my premieres."

She runs her fingers through her hair and Alex can already see the hundred gifs resulting from that tiny slip of habit.

"Oh, and might I add," Lena continues. "if you're a really gorgeous model attending one of my movie premieres, I'm so sorry if my brother had hit on you."

"Lex is-" Kara tries to interrupt. Again.

"Kara, stop sucking up to my family," Lena cuts her off.

Yes, Kara, stop being an idiot, Alex adds in her head.

"I was gonna say, annoying," Kara clarifies, throwing a pout in. And the way Lena lovingly looks at her caught in 4k makes Alex want to retch.

"Oh, oh okay, fair. Lex really is annoying."

******

Kara hands off the board to someone off-cam as Lena reaches for another one.

"Okay your turn, now," Lena says, peeling off the first white sticker.

"Is Kara Danvers Supergirl? Mmhmm yes, yes she is," Lena asks and answers in the same beat, a dreamy look playing in her eyes.

"Lena, I'm supposed to answer the questions," Kara reprimands with playful eyes.

"Sorry, yeah go ahead." Lena shakes her head and Alex watches her flush.

"Yes, I did play Kara Zor-El in Supergirl," Her sister confirms, "One of the best times of my life."

"And you did a very good job with it too."

"Thank you. That is very high praise coming from Lena Luthor."

The amount of goo-goo eyes this video contains is just-

Safe to say, the sapphic community is feasting on content right now.

******

"Is Kara Danvers abs?"

Oh God, why is Alex still watching this?

"Wait, are they asking if you have abs or- Kara what are you do- oh. "

She watches Lena stutter her way; watches her sister stand up and pull up her shirt high enough; watches Kara reveal her abs; watches Lena thirst after her sister on record.

"Yeah.” Lena gulps, clears her throat. “Well, as you can see. She- uh- Kara Danvers definitely, definitely has abs."

Is this what hell is like?

"Is Kara Danvers..." Lena clears her throat, after she recovers from the stunt, cheeks still a little pink. The sticker slowly comes off. "Gay? Is Kara Danvers gay?"

"I'm pan, guys."

"And just a little note,” Lena cuts in, “celebrities don't owe telling you their sexuality alright? Just a little reminder they are humans too."

"Yes, that's true. That's important. Listen to Ms. Prep school guys. She's smart."

******

"Is Kara Danvers beefcake?"

"I don't even wanna know what that means,” Kara murmurs and Alex can’t help but agree.

"No, wait but now I wanna know,” Lena says, fumbling for her phone, “wait I don't have my phone with me."

She turns to somebody off the screen, "Hey, can anybody google it? Does any of you know what a beefcake is?"

Somebody, who suspiciously sounds a lot like Nia Nal, answers, “According to the Urban dictionary, ‘Beefcakes are usually good-looking and enjoy showing their muscles off.”

Lena’s shoulders are shaking so hard in silent laughter, but she manages to wheeze out, “Oh, god, yes. You are a beefcake, darling.”

Kara blushes up to her ears, and Christ this is just so fucking gay.

Alex will never recover from the fact that people on the internet, open their browsers just to type in the question, Is Kara Danvers beefcake?

******

"Is Kara Danvers dating?"

"I don't know, am I?" Kara evades smoothly. A conspiratorial look passes between the two.

Then the shot cuts and it’s Lena’s turn again.

"Did Lena Luthor kiss Kara danvers?"

"Oh, wouldn't you guys like to know," Kara quips, "Buy tickets to our movie and maybe you'll see us kiss. Premieres on October 22.” Kara winks to the camera and Lena flushes next to her.

Alex already knows they’re going to kiss. Kara had a massive gay panic the day she received the script. Guess who had to calm her down enough to get through the scene?

******

“Did Lena Luthor Andrea Rojas?"

"Are they asking if I did Andrea?" Lena asks, in an uncharacteristically high pitched voice.

"Yes," Kara affirms, eyebrow quirking. "Did you?"

"I refuse to confirm nor deny anything." Even from Alex's tiny screen she can see Lena's pixelated form blush.

"You totally did."

******

“Did Lena Luthor break arm?”

Ah, Alex remembers that one. Especially after finding out that Kara filled Lena's hospital room with flowers for an entire month. Talk about a simp.

“Unfortunately, yes," Lena tells the camera, fingers running through her hair. "I did break my arm, yes. The injury wasn’t that bad though, it just looked like it was.”

“You had to wear a cast for three months," Kara points out, scoffing. "It was bad, Lena.”

“Well, I mean 'No Boundaries' was an action film. Sometimes things go wrong, you know." Lena shrugs as Kara shakes her head. "What? It's true," Lena defends. "It comes with the job. But I’m better now, and now I take extra precaution in filming scenes like that.”

“It was a great film though, not gonna lie,” Kara admits, her hand finding home on Lena's thigh again.

“Oh yeah?” Lena smirks, raises a brow at her.

“Yeah, Lucy and I saw it," Kara tells her, "and like, it was a spy movie. An intense spy movie. But she cried at that one scene with you and it was Sam Arias, I think?”

“Oh, oh yeah." Lena adjusts her collar and Kara's eyes follow. "The scene at the lab?" Lena clarifies and Kara nods dumbly. "Yeah that was a whole thing. Sam was amazing in that.”

“She was," Kara agrees, gulping, clearly struggling to drag her eyes away from Lena and back to the camera. "She really was. Both of you, actually. Imagine making Lucy Lane cry.”

“Wait.” Lena raises a hand to lay on Kara's arm. Her sister stops mid-peel. “I thought you saw that with Alex though?”

“I did with Alex, too.”

“Oh, you saw it twice?”

“No, no uh- I saw it four times.”

“Oh.”

Alex just had to pause the video at that, lest she throw her phone across the room.

Deep breaths, Danvers. Deep breaths.

******

"Did Lena Luthor get oscar nomination? Yes, yes she did!" Kara exclaims, squeals to be more accurate. "And not only that, she won too."

"Kara, I'm supposed to answer the question,” Lena reminds her. Kara just smiles sheepishly, gestures at Lena to continue.

"Yes, yes I did win.” Lena turns back to the camera. “I never expected that to happen, and every time I look at the golden man on top of my fridge, I cry."

"You- It's on top of your fridge?" Kara asks, turning away completely from the camera.

"Yeah."

If anybody asks Alex when she knew Kara had truly fallen in love with Lena, she’d play them this clip. Never has she seen Kara look at another human being like that.

The golden man atop the fridge, who would’ve known?

******

“And that’s it for the Web’s Most Searched Questions.” Lena claps her hands together, and god, Kara isn’t bothering at being subtle at all, just openly staring at Lena now.

“Hope you enjoyed watching that as much as we enjoyed doing it. Gal Pals out in theatres on October 22! Save the date!”

It’s a miracle that Alex made it to the end. She sighs a breath of relief as the next video plays, she exits before it could continue.

why are they so dumb? Alex types out to Ruby.

Ruby <3: COS THEYRE GAE!!!

Well, Alex can't argue with that logic. Before she can even type out a reply to Ruby, her phone pings in rapid succession.

Kara: Good morning from Japan! Ohayō, Alex!

A picture of Lena comes through.

This Lena is a thousand worlds away from the Lena Alex just watched on her phone screen mere minutes ago. This Lena is wearing a messy bun, thick black glasses perched on her nose, chopsticks raised by one sweater paw, a bowl of noodles in front of her, smiling without reservation, no doubt at her sister behind the camera.

Kara: she’s just so pretty!!

Kara: its like 7 in the morning here and she looks like dat alex!

Kara: kawaii!! thats what the fans here say

Kara: r u asleep already?

Kara: call me later i miss u

Oh, yes. Alex will definitely call her later. There are words that need to be said.

#in an alternate universe the luthors are nice and they occasionally make fun of lena thirsting after kara during premieres.#the gays totally made so much gif sets of this one particular video tho #the reckless writer writes #a prompt #a long overdue prompt at that #pls forgive me #if u see any typos no u didnt #this has been stuck in my drafts for a thousand years.#supercorp #supercorp fic

299 notes · View notes