LUTHOR

[leuthor]

indie. private. highly selective Iena Iuthor rp blog, based on the cw’s supergirI and own headcanons.

please note:

i write Iena as a lesbian, so deep in the closet, she’s in narnia.

this blog is 21+, a sideblog, and ultimately, canon divergent.

themes include hurt, betrayal, depression and unhealthy coping mechanisms. please don’t follow if these are triggers, i want your dash to be as comfortable for you as possible.

[leuthor]

my bloodline was wiped out before my eyes. i’m the last heir. / Kara

that can't be right. king lionel (vivat rex lionel!) is squandering whatever advantage he might have over discussions as we speak. they're both young, and they're both propped up, like wooden stick figures, much against their wills. lena sits quietly, hands crossed in her lap and picking at the corner of one of her thumbs, whilst a heavy diadem almost seems to press itself into her forehead. the hall is quiet — only the necessary folk gather around the table, with the king's counsel, lex, and kal's counsel for an audience. her neck aches already, like being trussed up and sold isn't hard work enough.

kal offers his cousin, a fierce warrior and one of a kind. and he states, plainly, that this is his first and only offer. she is to be wed to a dane, much to her family's horror, but the cost of war is far too great for one kingdom alone to bear the brunt of. (she's surprised he hasn't reached out to wessex. she's surprised he hasn't scrabbled and scraped at the last of the barrel within east anglia - granted, their army is farmers and merchants alike, but anyone with a plough or a rake would find a new target in the chest of a dane and relish it. but she knows those lords; old, tired, with an army of wives already like brood mares with three children on the way and ready to populate what's left of northwic with a royal line. so perhaps this, marrying a dane, no matter how they look or appear before them, brings the greatest chance of peace.)

kal speaks first. jarl kal, an ealdorman of daneland, with a crude bronze crown on his brow and a saxon wife at his side, has more ideas than she's given him credit for. his offer, peace, with a promise of unity and alliance through union, in exchange for a princess of mercia and a carved out etching of northern mercian land. he says the marriage must be made through union with the house of el, and that is when the until-then silent brute opens her mouth. i'm the last heir.

that can't be right.

the room is silent as lionel contemplates this. marrying his daughter to a dane is one thing, but a woman is a completely other conversation. he flits it about his brain, and eventually, with a roll of his shoulders, he submits. defeated.

"then they shall be wed in two days."

lena's head snaps toward him, her gaze cold, like his words slice through her and leave her limping through the hall. there is a rage that pumps through her and leaves the wind knocked out of her.

"father—" she hisses it, mouth open and it comes back to her like a smack in the jaw:

"enough talking. two days. i will send word for the priest."

[catherinesvalois]

Queen Æthelflæd of Mercia in 5.01 of The Last Kingdom. 👑

[leuthor]

pick a god and pray to it.

dunholme is a worldly beast. its palisade towers over each of the turrets, and within the court lies markets and farm lands unlike anything she's known in the south. mercia sits right on the precipice of daneland — never quite quiet, never without threat of an invading viking army with four hundred men strong and a thirst for slaves and women. but it is saxon, for all she cares. they pay for beets and potatoes with the king's silver, no matter how many viking braids swap carrots and radishes for a haunch of beef. the ale flows because the king allows it, and for no other reason — that's what she tells herself. the dirt is the king's dirt. the river running west carries the king's fleet, with far-off muffled voices yelling in the king's speech, not norse, not dane — and there will be no talk of thor or odin whilst she sits in the pagan hall with her new wife.

they avoid each other, for the most part — every conversation seems contentious, every discussion ending in an argument and a slammed fist against the great oak table in their feasting hall. lena takes to her quarters the way kara does to hers, and for a while, there is quiet. that is until, of course, lena repatriates a proportion of her dowry to construct a church in the far corner of the bailey.

it's not to say it wasn't always quiet. for a while, she managed to sit in one of the aisles whilst the priest preaches, and the nuns wash cloth to make the space holy once more. but now, when kara sidles up to her, making light work of an apple with an inane crunch crunch crunch right in the shell of her ear, her peace is interrupted.

pick a god and pray to it.

like it's so easy. there is only one. there is only one that keeps their crops watered and their fields ploughed. there is only one that keeps them alive long enough to take refuge from the elements and grow stronger. she wouldn't understand even if she tried to.

is this where all my silver's gone?

"there is only one. and you are not welcome here, pagan."

[leuthor]

your family has a history of philanthropy, but as far as i can tell, you’re not doing anything. / lillian huehuhe

it doesn't matter what she might do. it'll never be enough. and it's taken her time to come to terms with that – that no amount of money proffered to a children's wing in the local hospital, or to supporting Igbt homelessness within the city and outside of it. it doesn't matter that 10% of all profit of ltech smartphones and accessories goes toward free and free trade in less fortunate countries. it doesn't matter how many charity events she attends, how many ribbons she cuts, how many peoples' lives she touches through whatever means necessary. that will never matter to her, because it will never be enough. they have a history of philanthropy. it's widely documented, widely photographed - there are photos of lex in front of a bomb shelter in the middle of the congo that he looks painfully out of touch with. there are photos of lionel cuddling babies in the luthor wing of metropolis county. it will never be enough because she isn't them.

it's something she has to come to terms wiht. something she's not sure she will. every conversation with lillian is like plucking over a half-healed scab. she watches it bleed and it leaves a scar but she can't stop herself from teasing flesh from beneath her nails every single goddamn time. you're not doing anything.

"i am cleaning up lex's mess, mother." she presses her hand firmly against the coffee cup that's still piping hot, if only to feel it scorch the palm of her hand. the longer she keeps it there, the less painful this all seems. but lillian knows that. she knows every inch of her, inside and out, and she knows exactly which button to press to nick at her achilles.

"perhaps you should ask him why our charity funds were cut before he ended up on trial for murder."

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐥 / 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  various  dialogue  prompts  for  all  your  medieval  /  fantasy  /  d&d  inspired  threads  and  aus!  feel  free  to  change  how  you  seem  fit.  )

❛ i hope this raven finds you well… ❜

❛ you carry a sword, yet you are not a knight. ❜

❛ the gods must be angry. i sense a storm brewing. ❜ 

❛ there’s no place i’d rather be than by your side. ❜ 

❛ nobility is defined by what you do, not who you are. ❜

❛ i know how to keep my life and my crown. and i will. ❜ 

❛ well, i’m not a knight. not yet. ❜

❛ at least we’ll die with honor. ❜

❛ i’ve never seen a dragon before, what are they like? ❜

❛ this knife is laced with venom, any sudden movements and you’re dead. ❜ 

❛ of all the idiots in the realm, i’m trapped with you. ❜ 

❛ shed no tears for me. i will be back before you know it. ❜ 

❛ i’m sorry, but i’m to be married to someone else. ❜ 

❛ here’s a copper for your thoughts. and a silver not to tell them. ❜ 

❛ you humans are most amusing. ❜ 

❛ may i have this dance? ❜ 

❛ you were made to be ruled. ❜ 

❛ i will protect you. it is my duty, knight or not. ❜

❛ my kingdom is in danger. i’ve come to ask for your aid. ❜ 

❛ i’ve got a date with destiny, and it won’t end in a kiss. unfortunately. ❜ 

❛ keep your sword up and your back straight. ❜

❛ you’re asking me to commit treason. ❜

❛ you will make a fine ruler one day. ❜ 

❛ no curse of mine shall befall you from my dying breath. ❜

❛ you should see me in a crown. ❜ 

❛ bury me shallow, i will be back. ❜

❛ bard! play something a little more upbeat. ❜ 

❛ i warn you, i’ve been trained to kill since birth. ❜

❛ my magic is useless against them. i’ve never felt so powerless. ❜ 

❛ how can it be my destiny to protect someone who hates me? ❜ 

❛ i am at your mercy, your grace. ❜ 

❛ do not be afraid, little one. i will not hurt you. ❜ 

❛ any man who must say ‘i am the king’ is no true king. ❜

❛ knights must prevail with steel and sinew alone. ❜

❛ impudent of you to assume i will meet a mortal end. ❜

❛ spare me the ‘i’ve come to slay you’ speech and let’s get on with it. ❜ 

❛ it is my duty to protect the last of the dragons. ❜

❛ do i look like the kind of person who dies? ❜

❛ we are king and queen, chained together like prisoners in a dungeon. ❜ 

❛ for every great ruler, there is an equally great assassin poised to kill. ❜

❛ my bloodline was wiped out before my eyes. i’m the last heir. ❜ 

❛ you look better in your wanted posters. ❜ 

❛ you don’t need a king. a knight can make another knight. ❜

❛ violence for violence is the rule for beasts. ❜

❛ fear cuts deeper than swords. ❜

❛ pick a god and pray to it. ❜

❛ i’d rather die than marry you. ❜ 

❛ my duty is to my people. ❜ 

❛ glad to see you haven’t become food for the vultures. ❜ 

❛ i will paint the throne red with your blood. ❜ 

❛ what’s a life threatening quest without a bit of music? ❜ 

❛ some of us may not survive, but the ones that do will get the ultimate reward… paid. ❜

[leuthor]

i have a thing about strays. / bruce

if she didn't know bruce any better, she'd say that that would do nothing for her confidence. but they've known one another since apres ski 2004 and wrapped tightly under the dom perignon and moncler over the french alps, two teens united in their misery to stick it to their proverbial men. he's dry (always has been) and pessimistic (always will be), but there's a bridge between them that's stayed pretty stable between the frostbite and torrential gothamite rain.

so now, in a busy restaurant, with waiters bustling by and chatter over low-light candles and the ever-waiting paparazzi looming outside the windows hoping to get a glimpse of the power couple of the century (imagine what they could accomplish with their combined wealth - eat your heart out musk) he leans in, flickers his eyes up toward her with the toying edge of a lopsided smile flitting onto his lips. i have a thing about strays.

it says a lot, that world-renowned orphan figures that she, with a brother (ish) and two - now one - healthy parents (ish) is more of the stray in this relationship. but it lands with a playful roll of her eyes and reaching out to take another sip of a tasteful chablis that still feels like swill in her mouth.

"yes, not a day goes by that the gazette doesn't praise your charity, bruce." bruce wayne, billionaire philanthropist by day, beard by night. and sometimes by day too, depending on scheduling alignment and whatever swanky event he doesn't want to attend alone. but tonight is different. tonight, there's a third member of the luthor-wayne party staring uncomfortably into her wine that started huffing the moment he put his arm around lena's chair. so she moves the conversation on in the only way she knows how with kara:

"kara, you should try the cote de boeuf. i've heard good things."

[leuthor]

do you know who i am? / kara

it's a point blank question. it's a make it or break it, in it to win it question. it's what supergirI has wanted to ask for the last two years without being so forward about it. and there are a few avenues she could take - yes, of course i do, which perhaps cheapens their friendship and leaves a dagger gauge between them that squeezes and turns each time they talk, or the one that makes her sound just like an idiot because no, i wouldn't have a clue supergirI... it's a catch 22 that lena doesn't see a way out of, and a pursed-lip comment that sullies everything they've built together.

it's difficult, being them. the greater 'them' than supergirI and lena, the... more pressing issue that's bubbling beneath the surface. because every time she looks at her, she sees her friend. a worthy one, and one that has stuck with her through a lot more than being an alien her brother would like to see starve.

"if i say no, i'm an idiot. if i say yes, well. that just makes me an asshole, doesn't it?"

she has one arm wrapped around herself, and the other shivers slightly in the cold air. nationaI city is beautiful this time of night — there's a sheen of stars that spatters across the horizon, and the subtle hum of light flickering from each of the high rises. supergirI shows up, rattled, for lack of a better word, with her cape askew and hair plastered to her forehead against the wrath of a winter's wind, and asks do you know who i am?

"you are... one of the best people i've ever met. one of the most honest, and certainly one that makes me want to be a better person myself. so here it is — you'll tell me when you're ready."

the wind whips a dark strand of hair across her cheek, and lena tucks it quickly behind her ear with the purse of her lips. there. she leaves it at that. ball's in your court, supergirI.

"now, are you coming in, or are we going to stand out here and freeze?"

[coincounted]

THE BATMAN (2022) PROMPTS. adjust as necessary.

the city’s been renewing for 20 years.

look where it’s gotten us. crime has skyrocketed. murder and drug use are at historic highs.

we have a masked vigilante running the street.

drops and other drugs are still rampant.

i’m not saying there isn’t work to do, but listen…

okay, you know what? i can’t watch this anymore.

i must choose my targets carefully.

it’s a big city. i can’t be everywhere.

fear is a tool.

watch where you’re going, drophead!

they think i’m hiding in the shadows, but i am the shadows.

holy shit, it’s him.

you’re gonna let him in here?!

the killer may have taken his thumb as a trophy.

security detail said the family was out trick or treating.

the killer may have come through the skylight.

what does a liar do when he’s dead?

any of this mean anything to you?

this is a crime scene.

you know, i cut you a lot of slack, ‘cause we’ve got history, but this is way over the line.

this must be your favourite night of the year, huh?

was there anyone else in the house when you arrived?

i wish i could say i’m making a difference, but i don’t know.

the city’s eating itself. maybe it’s beyond saving.

a citywide manhunt is already underway as police and FBI search for the brazen killer.

if this continues, it won’t be long before you’ve nothing left.

what i’m doing is my family’s legacy.

if i can’t change things here, if i can’t have an effect, then i don’t care what happens to me.

what if this is the whole key?

it’s been two years now, and i don’t even know who you are.

what are we looking for?

we’ll never get in there without a warrant.

i don’t know what you’re talking about.

get out of here, freak. you hear me?

put the bat down, or i’ll blow your head off!

i wanna know who she is and what she has to do with this murder.

don’t make me hurt you.

what people do here ain’t got nothing to do with me.

you let me know if there’s anything else i can do.

we’re gonna get the hell out of here, okay?

i didn’t kill anybody. i’m here for my friend.

whatever she knows, it’s got her so spooked she won’t even tell me.

i will kill again, and again, and again, until our day of judgement, when the truth about our city will finally be unmasked.

you’re gonna help me on this.

you’ve got a lot of cats.

i have a thing about strays.

you’re not safe here.

i can take care of myself.

there’s a needle mark on his neck.

what kind of demented son of a bitch does this to a person?

you make it sound like he had it coming.

i need to see in there, this hunting ground.

why am i starting to feel like a fish on a hook?

you really don’t care what happens to me in there tonight, do you?

that’s one of the guys i got into it with the other night. looks like i broke his nose.

don’t worry. i’m watching you.

these guys have a little problem with eye contact, don’t they?

jesus, i hate dropheads.

you don’t know what you’re talking about.

can we not do this right now?

if i look back, it’s gonna be a whole can of worms.

it’s a hell of a time to be the new girl.

i live on the edge.

i’ve got a lot on my shoulders with that psycho running around.

if this guy. knows, it’s gonna come out. and when it does, this whole city’s gonna come apart.

keep him talking.

what, you got a death wish?

well… don’t be a stranger.

you didn’t tell me you had a relationship with him.

if we find the rat, maybe it’ll lead us to him.

i think the killer’s targeting people close to that case.

they made a secret deal with this guy. who knows how many people it touches.

jesus, this is a powder keg.

shall i take this as a good sign?

are you making an actual appearance?

serial killers like to follow reactions to their crimes.

where are your cufflinks?

you have to keep up appearances.

some event, huh? brought out the one guy in the city more reclusive than me.

aren’t you afraid someone’ll take a shot at you?

what good’s a safety net that doesn’t catch anybody?

why haven’t you called me back?

i wouldn’t be bothering you, but your people keep telling me you’re unavailable.

you really could be doing more for this city.

your family has a history of philanthropy, but as far as i can tell, you’re not doing anything.

you got people looking for him?

let’s clear this place out now!

your guy’s gonna get himself killed in there.

i’ve been trying to reach you.

you deserve to be dead after what you did!

i’m giving you a chance. no one ever gave me a chance.

he’s asking you how much it cost for you to turn your back.

what’s his name?

i’m a dead man either way.

it’s so much bigger than you could ever imagine.

what was he afraid of?

you have any idea what kind of trouble you’re in?!

you’re gonna put yourself on the line for this scumbag?

time for for me to have another conversation with him.

you want to move in?

dangerous crowd you’re stealing from.

is this how you get your kicks? sneaking up on girls in the dark?

i would love to sit and go over every gory detail with you, but, uh, those assholes are coming back.

you think you can come after my money, huh?!

what the hell is this? good cop, batshit cop?

there’s only one problem with your little scenario, okay? i ain’t no rat!

do me a favour, shithead, shut up!

you think he made a mistake?

you realise i’m still here, right?

too many have been left behind for too long.

something terrible is gonna happen!

i need to talk to you.

wasn’t sure i’d see you again.

yeah, well. things were getting a little hot for me, so…

i’m gonna find him and i’m gonna make him pay. you gonna help me?

your friend got involved with the wrong people.

your choices have consequences.

was it worth it? compromising yourself for money?

you assume the worst in people.

maybe we’re not so different after all.

who are you under there?

what are you hiding?

as far as i’m concerned, that psycho’s right to go after these creeps.

listen, if i can find that dickbag, will you help me?

just don’t make any moves without me, understand?

i told you, baby, i can take care of myself.

do you know who i am?

i thought i might hear from you.

what do you want to know here?

did you kill him?

you’d be surprised what even a good man like him is capable of in the right situation.

do me a favour, don’t lose any sleep over it.

this is what you wanted, huh? this little conversation here?

why didn’t you tell me all this?

i know you always blamed yourself.

i could teach you how to fight.

i thought i’d never feel fear like that again.

please do’t hurt me, please.

we’re gonna get you out of here, i promise.

let’s go kill that son of a bitch.

there is no other way!

cross that line, you’ll be come just like him.

don’t throw your life away.

don’t you mean ‘we’?

just put down the gun.

you don’t think this hurts me?

you think you’re gonna scare me with that mask and that cape?

what are you doing?! it wasn’t me!

the shots came from up there!

nobody gets in, nobody gets out!

i just ordered a slice of pumpkin pie.

my whole life has been preparing me for this.

that’s a murder weapon.

maybe this is all coming to an end.

i told you i’d see you in hell.

if only you knew how long i’ve been waiting for this day. for this moment.

they’ll remember both us.

your mask is amazing.

i wish you could’ve seen me in my mask.

all everyone wants to do is unmask, you but they’re missing the point.

you and i both know i’m looking at the real you right now.

my mask allowed me to be myself completely.

you’re a part of this.

we’re such a good team.

you showed me what was possible.

this is all in your head.

this is not how this was supposed to go!

oh, you’re really not as smart as i thought you were.

what’s black and blue and dead all over?

hey man, i don’t think you should be touching that.

let’s just say, none of us is alone anymore.

the day of judgement is finally upon us.

you’ll be there, waiting.

it’s time for the lies to finally end.

we’ve spent our lives in this wretched place, suffering.

i’m just trying to get out of town, man!

we’re just trying to get a handle here.

i am not gonna let those people die out there.

it’s not safe for you here.

i’m not going anywhere.

we’re under attack!

everyone’s afraid to stand up and do the right thing, but i’m not.

i can already see things will get worse before they get better.

vengeance won’t change the past, mine or anyone else’s.

people need hope.

our scars can destroy us, even after the physical wounds have healed.

let me tell you, there are worse things to be than a clown.

you know, the city loves a comeback story.

you’re leaving.

don’t you ever just say hello?

you know this place is never gonna change.

it’s gonna kill you eventually. you know that.

why don’t you come with me?

who am i kidding? you’re already spoken for.

take care of yourself.

[leuthor]

@cowlgbt said:  sender winks at receiver.

she’s not going to make the same mistake again. (she scalds herself every time — a little too close, a little too hot, a little too much to ease the discontent in her stomach. razing every bridge that keeps her tied to a city and ditching that phone number until the only way to contact her would be through her PA. she lets people in, and they choke the poison in her throat until she’s alone once more.)

she leaves without much duress, just another sheen on that coat of armour that’d been broken down and rebuilt so many times. the paint’s beginning to peel, the metal’s a little dented. it’s nothing that a kryptonian couldn’t punch their way through, and — lo and behold, that’s exactly what happened. she seeks new opportunities to dive into her work, to dive into making something better, to fix, to improve and be the face of the tech giant that I-corp deserves to be. (it’s been one of the last things on her mind recently. with sam at the helm, lena’s been able to take her foot off the pedal a little as her own godforsaken life spiralled before her eyes. not anymore. new research. new hope. fresh ideas.)

the wink is more jarring than anything. it sets her back three years, reminds her of andrea, of kara, of everyone she’s ever thought about in a way that has turned on her in quick succession. it’s not coincidence if it’s become a pattern. (arithmetic puts her as the common denominator. how can kara, sweet, innocent kara, loved by all, dig her claws into barely-healed wounds and pinch?)

        “i’d rather we keep our relationship strictly professional, ms kane.”    it’s half out of her mouth before she even knows what she’s saying, but it reminds her, in part, of kara. (breaking down barriers, wheedling her way in, finding her weaknesses and tearing her apart from the inside. kara would never be so bold, but there’s a moment of panic that forces lena’s hand for some transparency across the desk.)

                “if we are to be working together, that is.”

[leuthor]

danviers​.

Alex ought to have known that no bitter, tongue - fuzzing cocktail of a half - bottle of whiskey and bitter red wine ( no line of shot glasses at Al’s to begin the night ) could have numbed the deep ache of grief.  

In a way, in some malformed variation of her decade - long rumination over how dad’s initial disappearance had altered her formative years in Midvale, reckoning with his vanishing had almost been more manageable than the fallout of his fleeting resurgence into the world.  Missing - and - presumed - dead Jeremiah had been easier to reconcile after so long than prisoner turned tortured - traitor Jeremiah, than willing fugitive Jeremiah, than killed on another continent Jeremiah.  

The finality of the news, enmeshed into the glassy, guilt - ridden glower she’d fixed on Lena, settled in the sharp constriction of Alex’s chest like debris.  

“ I am not going down any road. ”  The sharp, slurred nick of those words felt too thick in her mouth, too unwieldy, too much like a shoddily built fence, incapable of deflecting the persistent sensation of Jeremiah’s bowie knife twisting something fierce in her gut.  That wasn’t a promise, nor a staunch argument of any stripe:  Just a defensive jab, an acerbic retort built entirely on denial, mirrored in the unsteady lift of her jaw.  

“ I don’t want to talk about it.  Okay, because — I have been here before.  And I have mourned.  And I didn’t ask to be put back in this position. ”

                  “then we don’t have to talk about it.”    they’ve been through patches — patches where the last thing she’s ever wanted to do was be in the same room as alex, or supergirl, or anyone else behind the scenes that has been turning the blade in her back, and patches where the only place she can see herself is cross-legged on kara’s floor while rolling a pair of totally-rigged dice.

“i can’t even begin to imagine what you must be feeling, alex.”   mostly because all of the people still alive in her life feed solely on manipulation and whatever poison they’ve branded themselves with that month, but if she’d found out her mother was alive, then dead once more... she would see the bottom of the bottle too. grief is a game of chess that lex would never let her win. (it’s a game that she couldn’t foresee, or plan each move six moves in advance, but when you pull the trigger yourself, two fingers of bourbon isn’t enough to sear the image or the sound of the gun out of her brain.

              “and i’m so sorry. i don’t know how to help you, but i want to.”    she’s all but muscled her way into her apartment now — one foot wedged preemptively in between the door and the threshold, and a hand closing over the side of the frame.

           “please. i know you — probably don’t want to see me. but i — i am... well versed in family problems, and i — i want to help. even if it means just — being here.”

[lucyllawless]

[leuthor]

reignthem​.

@nocered​ said: there’s no way i can hide these marks…

it’s after another one of those nights they don’t talk about, wine-lipped  &  the merlot evidence touched up purpling  &  scattered beneath lena’s jawline.  lena’s framing them in the mirror between dark-lacquered nails.  sam blinks away the notion that she could retrace them.  she’d start by turning lena back with a ply of her palm at her shoulder.  then, she’d kiss her way along the long, pale column of lena’s throat before touching into the spots with the pads of her fingers.  

“  i got a little carried away,  ”  would be less sheepish if they’d just talk about what it is they’re doing instead of pushing it under the rug.   “  but,  ”  sam says, stepping up next to lena’s reflection.  they’re starkly different in the mirror, sam tall  &  amber-skinned  &  lean to lena’s hourglass contrast of curves  &  angles, to her dark hair  &  milk-white skin.  she looks at lena with open eyes, the unanswered question of affection hugging the corners.  “  i hear scarves are in.  ” 

there’s a line of dark bruises that trail down from the underside of lena’s jaw to below the cut of her shirt. (she touches over the collar as the cotton falls open to her cleavage — sam gets carried away, and she gets too into it to care. the nights they spend together are... strange, to say the least. as of late, lena’s been far too tightly-wound to contemplate another night alone, and it just so happens that working late has led to some nights where sam ends up in her bed, or on the cushions of her office couch. privacy is ensured when the lights in the building are at their lowest, and a heady moment between friends doesn’t slip out of her reach.)

           “— you act like this wasn’t your plan all along.”     her voice is a low thrum the opposite side of the mirror, and a trimmed nail traces over the border of one of the more distinct marks on the pillar of her throat. there’s a quick moment of eye contact, teasing, mostly, as her fingers dip to do the buttons of her shirt.

                “luckily, i own the building.”

[witchlena]

[leuthor]

reignthem​.

“  hm.  ”   sam’s hummed consideration sits snugly at the upward skew of her pressed-together lips on their way to smiling.  she tilts the brown liquor in the bottom of the glass where it catches the light on drinkware more expensive than her first beater car purchased on scrounged-together cash  &  a prayer.  the thing she likes BEST about lena is that no matter the time of night nor whether her heels are stemmed up beneath her feet she’s all business, non-nonsense  ;  she’s smart, calculate,  &  deliberate about all of her decisions. the offer is there on the counter for sam to choose.   

“  off the clock drink it is.  ”  there’s a clinking of a toast tipped together against the half-smear of red waxing the rim of the glass before sam lets the alcohol smooth its way to the back of her throat  &  burn the rest of the way down.  

like lena, sam is still wrapped in the trappings of a day at the office.  the late hour has wilted some of the starch out of her collar, but she’s still pressed  &  tailored to the seams, crisp-cornered where lena favors an hourglass designed with finesse  &  the flourish of makeup that sets the contrast of full lips against her angled cheekbones  &  knifepoint brow casting a question up against her hairline.   

some of the ruler-edges soften out of her posture on the tail end of her exhale.  she’s just sam  ;  this is just lena.  she can let her smile slide up with a ripening curtail of wryness that matches the whiskey  &  save the hard-nosed, managerial sternness for the morning.   “  thank god.  it’s been … one of those days.  ”  sam has a sneaking suspicion that the tensile wire strapping between lena’s shoulder  &  the pin of her jawline that they share this experience.  she reaches out a hand because after a long day with every muscle bundling up toward the nape of her neck, some good, gentle contact is the type of thing that she needs.  her palm catches over lena’s wrist with nothing more than reassurance.   

“  i’m really glad you asked me to come over.  it seems like we could both use the break. ”  a jostling rub of her hand back and forth does little more than reinforce her point, a filler motion that belays into a shrug.  “  &  sometimes it’s nice to just talk to someone who gets it.  ” 

off the clock drink has a familiar ring to it. it has two glasses of whiskey and a shared bed for the evening, before real life starts again with headache-inducing board meetings and pandering phone calls with potential investors. for tonight, they don’t have to think about work. maybe the tense jaw will begin to loosen, and maybe sam can start to unpick the tight-wound stress that thrums quietly in the back of her head. 

“it’s not easy. but i wouldn’t have employed you if i didn’t have total faith in you, sam.”    even after years of experience, years of late nights and eyes burning from the glare of her monitor, there are days that make her question whether this is even the right job for her. (she’s much more comfortable behind a microscope, switching heels for brogues that make standing in front of a lab bench a lot easier than the ache in the back of her calves from her louboutins.)

           “— and for what it’s worth, you are doing an incredible job.”     micromanaging is something she’s trying to become better at — being able to take a step back from l-corp and venture into what she actually enjoys doing. (she’s a business woman at heart — catco has opportunity to generate revenue, and she knows people who would benefit from her presence there.)

                     “but i’m here if you want to talk about it.”     her hand turns in sam’s, offering her a gentle squeeze before taking another sip. she’s a pro at compartmentalisation. work fits in one box. her personal life fits in a smaller, more contained box. (work spills out into the other boxes more often than not — social, personal, love, past, are all half-empty. work bursts at the seams until she spends too much time in the small hours of the morning figuring out how best to fix it.)

      she tugs, gently, pulling sam in close and making the easy trip toward the couch.

[behbuh]

[leuthor]

reignthem​.

sam likes to lead from the trenches, really get her hands into the job.  it’s a habit born from too many of her own late nights ticking down the clockhand on the wrong side of midnight  &  too much caffeine.  taking on the title of CFO, however, means that cross-analysis reports  &  excel spreadsheets stacked up to the top with clever formulae are a thing of her junior vice president past.    

there’s just so much work to do.  

she has personnel issues a mile long because the acting director of jqb labs has a conflict of interest with another subsidiary purchased out of lord technologies  &  some mailroom clerk is the son of someone important at a satellite office in central city.  quarterly earnings reports require more scrutiny than she has hours in the day.  business has already started in berlin.  despite that black backsplash pouring in through the windows of her corner office, her inbox starts to trickle in with a deluge of unreads that make her dig a knuckle into her eye  &  turn her attention to the jittered buzz of her cellphone for a text from lena.  

all it takes it a swiped response patterning out the exact level of need a drink sam has approached  (  not to mention the twinge of guilt for ruby’s solo evening with the ever-celebrated mrs. queller  ) before she’s swinging her briefcase over her shoulder  &  leaving the laptop for morning.  

“  i think you also sign my paychecks,  ”  comes sam’s coyly knowing delivery.  “  &  the fact that we’re both still up working is why you keep me on your payroll.  ”    the amber splash in the glittering bottom of a highball is the perfect antidote to soothe a long day of argumentative stuffed shirts   ;  lena’s company is another type of balm entirely.  she follows her into the kitchen, an easy elbow leaned against the counter as though she belongs here.  “  but i feel like i have to ask  —-   is this a business drink or an off the clock drink?  ” 

sam impresses her daily. she’s resilient, meticulous — more often than not, they’re on the same level, the same time, and there’s never an email she sends that goes unanswered. sam has all her trust, which is... a vulnerable position to be in. she hopes the feeling is reciprocated, but understands if it’s not. 

she’s left her heels under her desk, still poised in the exact same clothes she left the office in three hours ago. comfort clothing isn’t a concept that many luthors are familiar with, and lena isn’t immune to that. she wipes a smudge of red lipstick off the glass before taking another sip and shrugging.

“i keep you on my payroll because you work hard, not because you’re still awake gone midnight and make your way across town to see me.”      it’s just a bonus. and perhaps one that HR would scream at her for, but if there’s ever a luthoran scandal to be seen, friendship with her CFO isn’t high on the list of priorities. (it’s end-of-the-world decisions, thick poison in her veins that keeps the tabloids brimming with new out-there schemes where lex decides to be the most powerful man on the planet. that’s the kind of news they care about, not who his baby sister spends her evening with.)

        “i think if i have to spend another ten minutes talking about spring proposal KPIs, i might rip my hair out.”     perhaps that’s the scandal after all — another luthor, another madness. it’s in her bones, somewhere, a menace whispered in her ear through years of cold, regal space.

               “but tonight can be anything you want it to be, sam.”    whether it works the knot in her neck out or not. she brushes her fingers over the rim of the glass once more, and raises a single, sculpted eyebrow at the comment.