@dissoIution
could you elaborate on the changes you plan to make with your brother… otherwise occupied, to put it nicely, miss luthor?
/ obsessed with u. obsessed with this. read all the mbs on the luthor archives also obsessed. obsessed with lena
/ Lena’s family era ? Failed. Lenas mother era? Failed. Lenas congenial era? Failed. Lena luthor? FAILURE
/ she DOESN'T deserve nothing ? so you agree she does deserve things ? so glad we agree babes xxx
/ " give lena a happy ending. " premiere date : never.
@RE2S8NED / she doesn’t deserve Justice, she hardly deserves her hair be lucky I haven’t made her bald
/ im like two seconds away from choking you myself. justice for a luthor... deserved !?!?!?!
there's an air of confusion above the deafening muffles of some house track playing along with the blaring lights. of all the visitors she had been expecting, the LUTHOR HEIRESS had not been among them.
it's a spacious office, if it could really be considered one. hyejin leans back into her chair ( or rather, her boss' chair ) pale arms cold against the leather armrests. she's clad in her usual black attire, blazer lost somewhere along the way, sleeves of her black button-down rolled up to her elbows. she gives her guest a once over, charcoal hues calculating.
her gaze is unaccusing but cold, there's not a hint of reassurance, just an expression void of anytype of emotion. it wasn't the typical deal she was sent to settle. no, this was a tech mogul, not some arrogant pig with a big ego and a little more than average in the bank. beomgyu had spoken of the luthors.
" LENA LUTHOR, in the flesh. what is it you want ? "
with the sudden breaking of tension, the strobe lighting from the PENGUIN'S CLUB becomes less harsh. she could focus now. and she does, with one breath after another after another. she waits.
/ stop it's been like seven years
— to what do i owe this unexpected visit?
“SHE HASN’T TALKED TO ME IN YEARS, SO.. THAT’S WHERE WE’RE AT I GUESS. SHE HATES MY GUTS.”
[2] LENAS CALCULATING, tiptoeing around words that could dampen the extent of this newfound COMPANY. ❝ Clark, personally I think that maybe she’s right in her feelings. ❞ it takes everything in the luthor to not BITE HIM with her canines, to tear into him for pushing off a side HE didn’t understand. Instead, she readjusts on the sofa, curling bare feet beneath her.
❝ I think the best thing you could do is leave her alone. ❞ A SHRUG IS ALL THAT FOLLOWS, ALL THAT SHE IS WILLING TO GIVE HIM. it’s simple, SPITE FILLED, and edged on the tip of a RAZOR BLADED TONGUE. maybe this will pop his bubble of COMFORT, slap him into reality with a HARAH CRASH. he deserves that, DESERVES TO TASTE THE BITTERNESS OF ANGER to share the cup of HATRED WITH THE REST OF THEM.
@callaways [1] THERES A CERTAIN ALLURE TO THE STERILE PENTHOUSE. ITS PICTURE-LESS WALLS AND STRATEGICALLY ORGANIZED SHELVES APPEAR ALMOST UNLIVED, DESPITE A LIPSTICK STAINED WINE GLASS ATOP PRISTINE MARBLE TOP. ITS A PICTURE STRAIGHT FROM A CATALOG, or maybe even a desperate cry for help.( CLEANLINESS, PURITY. I SHALL SURROUND MYSELF IN WHITE WALLS AND MAYBE THERE WILL BE NO GHOSTS HOLDING ON. I SAINT IN SOLITUDE. ) [ LUTHOR PENTHOUSE, AFTER DARK, A DRINK BETWEEN FRIENDS ] gone are the stilettos and dresses that kill—traded in plainly for a sweatshirt three times too big to a college she didn’t even attend. fresh linen and distant plumeria fill the air, along with the soft laughter that comes and goes as new friends pass the line of ACQUAINTANCE AND A DEEPER SIDE IS EXPOSED. THERES A BOTTLE BETWEEN THEM, OLDER THAN THE BOTH OF THEM COMBINED—SPARINGLY POURED FROM TIME TO TIME IN AWAITING GLASSES BEGGING TO BE SPILLED. This moment is a rarity in all its sense , a side to herself that is often DISREGARDED FOR HER OWN GOOD. despite the pushing , she’s enjoying it none the less—the gossip, the POINTLESS comments and meaningless jokes. BUT SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDSTS THE CONVERSATION TURNS TO A POINT OF SENSITIVITY: FAMILY. Somewhere in the idols ranting, he strikes a nerve with the luthor, and slowly enough she freezes in front of him—JAW CLENCHING, CHEEKS DRAINING. SHES THE SISTER, THE UNGRATEFUL DAUGHTER, AND YET HE SITS IN FRONT OF HER AND COMPLAINS THROUGH HIS SILVER SPOON FED MOUTH TO A WOMAN HES DESCRIBING WITHOUT REALIZING.
You can’t just expect people to go along with this. Not with the consequences it could carry.
/ this theme made me jump off a building and then peel myself back off the ground so i could look at it again
“YOU KNOW HER, I KNOW HER. THAT’S THE ONE THING YOU AND I HAVE IN COMMON. OTHER THAN THAT I’M NOT SEEING THE POINT OF THIS CONVERSATION AND I’M NOT SURE IF I’M PATIENT ENOUGH FOR AN EXPLANATION.”
[ @execkill ] THE POUR IS MUSCLE MEMORY: HEAVY AND UNKIND. ITS MESSAGE IS CLEAR WITHIN THE NAME ALONE. HER PERSONAL PRAYER , THE LATE NIGHT INJECTABLE HIGH IN A GLASS. SHE POURS A GLASS FOR HER SELF, DISREGARDING THE RED UPON HER DESK. ❝ Do you get off on a power dynamic, or is this your way of being insufferably different? ❞ BODY TILTS FORWARD, GLASS EXTENDED WITH SUCH DILIGENCE, SHE MIGHT AS WELL BE HOLDING A TICKING BOMB. Lena waits, GAZE UNMOVING AS ICE MELTS WITHIN THE IRIS AND BOILS TO A NEW DEGREE. ❝ come on now, don’t make me WAIT. IM ENJOYING THIS GAME ALREADY. ❞ Once taken, Luthor takes her place directly across from the woman, smirk plastered across rep lips UNTIL THERE IS THE TINEST CRACK IN THE CORNER. A QUIVER OF DISGUST AS IF INSTINCT ENOUGH. [ I AM MORE THAN WHATEVER VERSION OF ME SHES PLANTED. ] IT DOESN’T LAST LONG, NO, INSTEAD LUTHOR RECOILS, SPIRALING INWARD UNTIL MEET WITH THE GNASHING OF HER OWN TEETH, HER CANINES BARRING INTO HER OWN DELICATE FLESH. THE STING IS JUST ENOUGH TO SET HER ALIGHT. ❝ MERCY . . ❞ the name brings BITTER WARMTH to her tongue as if she’s recalling her OWN PLEASURE OF A NOT SO DISTANT MEMORY, HER OWN MISTAKES, HER OWN HIGH. SHE SMILES, FOR JUST A BRIEF MOMENT, AS IF SHE KNOWS THE WOLRDS SECRETS, AND IN DUE TIME SHE JUST MIGHT. ❝ is a snake charmer . . . a VERY skilled one that is. ❞ THE WORDS HUM THROUGH A CLENCHED JAW, BUT HER UNNERVING REMAINS UNNOTICED, PLAYED OFF AS INTRIGUE. THE GLASS IS UPTURNED AND EMPTIED IN ONE SWIFT MOVEMENT, LANDING ON THE GLASS TABLE IN A SOFT ECHO. ❝ but I’m sure YOU know that. ❞ brow is arched high over temple, and INGENUINE INTENTIONS RETURN. ❝ But what do I know? IM NOT THE ADULT HERE. ❞
II. I’LL TELL YOU THAT MINE IS WARM AND TASTES METALLIC ON THE TONGUE. IT IS A PLEASURE TO SINK MY TEETH IN AS DEEP AS THEY CAN GO AND WATCH THE BLOOD BEAD AT THE SURFACE, DRIPPING RED. YOU SHARE THIS DESIRE ALL THE SAME, I SEE IT ON YOUR LIPS AND I FELT IT ON HERS. YOU KNOW WHAT I AM AND I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE, WE ARE NO STRANGER TO THE ADDICTION WE ALLOW OURSELVES TO BE CONSUMED BY IN AN EFFORT TO SHOCK OUR DEAD SYSTEMS. WHICH WILL I CHOOSE?
WINE OR WHISKEY?
❝ I PREFER A MARTINI. ❞ she speaks dryly, her words tainted with more than a splash of dismissal ❝ BUT WE CAN’T ALWAYS GET WHAT WE WANT CAN WE? ❞ a small glass is pushed by her fingers, sliding it across the white table where it stops near the edge in the direction of the whiskey bottle in hand, awaiting its fill.
❝ SHE TOLD ME YOU WOULD BE ATTENTIVE. ALTHOUGH I DON’T HAVE MUCH OF AN IMAGINATION, I CAN SEE WHY SHE MENTIONED THAT DETAIL. ❞ her name remains unspoken in a purposeful effort to sink under the skin, to make one become intoxicated by anticipation without taking a sip of fluid. ❝ GRAVES HASN’T SPOKEN A LIE TO ME ONCE. SURELY YOU CAN SEE WHY I TRUST HER JUDGEMENT. ❞
I. ❝ BETWEEN THE TWO OF US THERE’S ONLY ONE ADULT IN THIS ROOM. ❞ if it were not for the trained tightness of her facial nerves she would have taken this time to smile as broadly as the familiar face they had both come to know, though it would not be one fit to grace billboards nor flashing monitors in times square, no, it would be deliciously terrible. this is the face of a killer that takes aim and finds thrill in the anticipation of wounding. ❝ YOU AND I BOTH KNOW WHO THAT IS AND IF YOU DON’T, CLEARLY, THE VALUE OF INTELLIGENCE IS LIMITED TO A THREE DIGIT SCORE. ❞ this mouth is a gun and in it lies a bullet, shot out from frigid lips with a quickness that is as natural as her gesture towards the luthor (done as if she is making a point during a meeting with a difficult client, a statement of brutal truth)
SHARPE EYES FOLLOW HER MOVEMENTS, EXAMINE THEIR SLOWNESS AND HOW SHE TAKES EVERY SECOND OF TIME TO TURN TOWARDS HER ONCE MORE. A CIRCLE SHE MAKES AND A CIRCLE IT IS THAT THEY DO SHARE, A PERSONAL ORBIT THAT SHE HAS INVADED— THROWING THE PLANETS OUT OF ALIGNMENT AND SNATCHING ITS STARS OUT OF THEIR GALAXIES. I’VE MADE A MESS OF YOUR LITTLE WORLD HAVEN’T I? AN ENORMOUS ONE. ANSWER ME THIS, LUTHOR: DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE ENORMITY OF /MY/ DESIRE? THIS VIOLENT URGE TO FUSE MYSELF WITH ANOTHER, STEAL A PULSE AND PRETEND IT IS MY OWN? CONSUME THE STARS INTO THE BLACK HOLE THAT HAS BECOME OF MY HEART WHERE THEY BURN ALL TOO QUICKLY. DO YOU PRETEND TO BE A STRANGER TO INDULGENCE?