#• “he had galaxies in his eyes” → VISUALS • | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

demonic0angel · 1 year ago

Text

Celestial Bodies AU (maybe part 1/?)

(Part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7.)

Superman flew through space, eying the new galaxy that he and Batman had discovered the night before.

“So? What does it look like?” Batman asked him through the communications.

“Well…” Superman looked around. “It’s definitely weird. It has an enormous cluster of stars, but I’m not feeling stronger…”

“What? Are you saying that the radiation isn't working?"

"The stars here are all white stars or above, but they don't make me feel stronger. Actually... I think I'm feeling weaker too. Something is definitely wrong here."

Batman was quiet for only a moment before he asked, "Are you in any current danger? Can you defend yourself?"

"No, I'm fine. I don't sense any living beings around me. I can defend myself." Superman understood what Batman was trying to say. "Are you asking me to stay and continue observing?"

"If you can."

"Of course. I'll stay and continue investigating."

"Thank you," Batman said softly and Superman smiled at that.

"Don't sweat it! Let me get the receiver."

Superman pulled out the device that allowed him to connect to radio signals from space, and began turning it on. However, the moment it turned to life, the radio began to malfunction, short circuiting and turning into static as it shook itself. Superman nearly tossed it away before suddenly, it was normal again.

And then, the signal began to pick up.

And it began to sing.

Superman stared wide eyed as a symphony of music and singing came through the radio. It was a little choir of humming and barely audible voices, sounding as though they were underwater. Still, it was undeniably beautiful, like something heard from heaven.

"Batman," Superman said, hushed, "are you hearing this?"

"... yes."

"It's amazing! Are these stars making these sounds?" Superman continued flying, observing the blue and yellow stars, each radiating a heat that could not power him. He continued flying, listening to the ethereal song that called for listeners.

He hadn't been paying attention when he felt an ever sensed blistering heat and a force beginning to drag him forward. He turned his head and his eyes widened again before he cursed and flew a little distance away.

"Superman? What is it?"

"Batman, turn on your visuals," he said as he turned on the camera.

There was silence before Superman heard the barely audible click and then a buzz of a camera. The camera was attached to Superman and it would send the views back to Batman, allowing him to see just what Superman was freaking out over. When it turned on, Batman was silent for a moment, clearly as confused as Superman was feeling.

"... tell me what I'm seeing."

"A quasar, a protostar that is possibly becoming a blue star, a neutron star, and a black hole all coexisting right next to each other. As well as several planets all circling them like stars."

Superman watched the scene with a sense of both interest, awe, and horrified confusion.

The scene in front of him just wasn't possible. Not only would a black hole consume everything around it, there was already a quasar nearby doing the same thing with an even stronger force. However, the protostar and neutron star were fine even though they were so close, along with the few planets. The planetary nebula around the neutron star circled around each celestial object in an assembly line, flowing from the neutron star to the black hole to the quasar and then to the protostar. If the nebula wasn't taken by one celestial object, it was passed onto another.

Most of the nebula seemed to be absorbed by the quasar and protostar, but the two of them seemed to coexist in peace. The neutron star continued to spin and the black hole surrendered most of the nebula to its neighbors. The planets also spun peacefully, a few even had rings that were not taken by the quasar or black hole.

It was like only foreign objects, like Superman himself, would be absorbed.

It was fascinating. Like they were alive and knew how to live with one another.

Superman explained it to Batman in detail. Batman was silent before he said, "This shouldn't be possible. How could this occur? Unless there was some sort of external force that is keeping each astronomical object to themselves and prevents them from destroying each other, there's no way this could be a natural occurrence."

"Are you suggesting that this is man-made?"

"How could it be anything but? Aren't you listening to singing right now?"

Superman raised the receiver and the singing on the other side continued without pause, a constant symphony of voices.

"... you could be right. Do you want to try and make contact?"

"Yes. Send back a signal."

Superman pressed a few buttons on the receiver to send a radio message back and in an instant, the singing died down, leaving only a faint crackling and a water-like noise.

Biting the bullet, Superman then spoke into the receiver.

"Hello. My name is Superman, and I come from the Milky Way galaxy. I am a kryptonian from the planet Earth. I wish to peacefully connect with you, whoever you are."

More crackling.

Batman cursed softly in his ear and Superman winced, already feeling that he was too impulsive. However, just as he was about to backtrack and escape from this particular galaxy, there was a whispered, shuddery, "Hello."

Superman blinked and then called out, "H-Hello!"

There was silence again, only that underwater staticky noise coming through.

"Can I take this as you accepting my peace offering?"

"... yes."

The sound that came from the receiver seemed to come from many, all joining together into one.

There was a hitched gasp and then Batman hissed, "Keep talking! Ask them questions! Ask them if they want to make contact with us or if we can form an alliance!"

Superman nodded to himself and spoke into the receiver, "Can you see me?"

"We see you."

Superman paused and then continued in stride, "I'm sorry, but I can't see you. Can you show yourself?"

"In front of you."

There was nothing but the strange collection of celestial objects. Unless there was someone inside? It could be possible, but Superman hadn't detected anyone living around him for awhile now.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but—"

"In front of you."

Batman then said through the communicator, "Superman, the neutron star!"

The neutron star in front of him then began to spin faster and faster, before lighting up into a pulsar in the very next second.

Superman was stunned at the sight, as the radiation emitting from the neutron star passed over him over and over and over, radiating with a cold burn that resonated through his bones and made his limbs weak. The impossibly quick change from a regular neutron star into a pulsar only made him even more frightened as the radio signals made the receiver scream.

"We are here." The crackling voices said again, all as one.

Superman flew backwards, his breath caught in his throat.

"Superman?! Why did you go backwards?" Batman demanded.

Superman flinched and then he said softly, "Sorry. Instinct."

It was true. The fear that had entered his body had made him instinctively retreat. It was even worse than looking death in the eye. It was like the feeling of knowing the End of All, of knowing that your existence would be wiped out, of knowing that resistance would be futile and that your death wouldn't even be enough to save the ones you loved.

His heart pounded as he flew a little closer, enough to feel the heat from the quasar again and almost reluctantly said into the receiver, "Are you the neutron star?"

"We are all what you see in front of you."

"'We'? Are all of you speaking to me?"

The neutron star pulsed again, spinning just a little faster like before.

"I am the King. And these are my family."

The voice than switched out, a barely noticeable change in the difference because it was all the same voices speaking as one. However, now a different voice was leading.

"Ask your questions, Son of Jor-El. What do you seek?"

Superman's eyes widened. Then after a moment of silence, he said, "I am here to explore the universe and find protection for the planet I live on. Could you help us?"

"We are but objects in the sky. We will only answer questions."

Batman interrupted. "Ask them if they can see the future and if anything will happen to Earth."

Superman explained to the collection of celestial bodies, "This is my colleague and partner, Batman. We work together for Earth's safety."

"We know. He is the best of you."

There was silence from both Superman and Batman. Superman was stunned, but he also couldn't help but smile. "Yes, that is true. Can you see the future? Can you tell us if any dangers will be coming to earth."

Another voice came to life, taking the lead in speaking. "We can. Whatever comes, you and your Justice League can handle it."

Superman could hear Batman breathe a sigh of relief. Superman felt the same and he placed a hand on his heart as he gave a sigh of relief as well. "Thank goodness." Before Batman said anything, Superman asked, "Could you tell us more about yourself? How do you have a consciousness?"

The radio crackled and popped for a little while before the first voice, the one who called themself 'King' spoke up.

"We were like you once. But then I became a legend."

"Like me?" Superman asked.

Batman then said, "Ask them if they were human."

"Were you human?"

More silence.

And then—

"Yes."

Superman's eyes widened and he couldn't help but gasp in shock, a hand flying to his mouth as he stared at the celestial bodies in front of him, all of which used to be human. These enormous objects that used to be human, now forced to succumb to emptiness and spin in space without pause.

"Are... are you okay? We have magic users in our team, maybe we can offer you help?" Superman asked.

Batman hissed in the comms, "Superman! We don't even know them!"

The receiver crackled some more and the voice changed again. The sound of them being underwater seemed louder than ever.

"We are fine, Son of Jor-El. We are happy."

The person speaking switched to someone new.

"Ask your questions and then leave." The receiver quieted again. And then they spoke, "My little sister needs her rest for her rebirth."

Superman's eyes flicked over to the protostar, which was still absorbing most of the nebula. The only thing that could have possibly been 'reborn' was the protostar, as it needed to heat itself to start the transition to become a main sequence star. Was that one the little sister?

"Just two more questions, if that's alright." He could hear Batman's deep, frustrated sigh. He probably had more questions but was frustrated by Superman's curtesy and his lack of scientific curiosity. Superman knew he was annoyed but he felt an odd camaraderie with the celestial objects. He didn't want to anger them if necessary.

"Speak."

"How old are you? And will you help us again in the future?"

The receiver crackled.

The voice changed once more. "We are all far, far, far older than you imagine. Time does not work for us like other stars."

The speaker switched again. "But in human years, we have not reached our adult ages yet."

The honest confession made Superman's eyes widen, especially as he realized what they meant.

A bunch of children had turned into stars and black holes before they were even adults?

Superman was suddenly starkly reminded of Robin, Batman's sidekick, one of the very few children that he knew in their line of business. By Batman's silence, he was probably thinking along the same lines.

"Speak your last question and leave."

"Can the Justice League depend on you for further help and assistance in the future? I would like to come back if I can."

"Our King was once a hero too. Come if you need it."

That was when the quasar sent out a flare, the gases and planetary nebula around it rubbing against each other hard enough to send sparks Superman's way. It was clearly a warning, especially as the neutron star began spinning rapidly again, radiation beginning to light the air around him in a devastating chill.

"Leave," They all chorused.

Superman immediately turned away without hesitation. "Thank you very much! I will come again!"

The receiver did not speak again. Instead, the songs restarted and the voices continued to sing a song that he could not recognize. It was ethereal, if not haunting.

Superman was smiling as he left. Batman was silent in his ear and Superman finally asked, "So? What do you think?"

"... I think we need more information."

"You're just feeling soft because they said they were heroes and were also children," Superman teased.

"How do you know they weren't lying?" Batman sounded angry.

However, Superman wasn't concerned and only laughed. "Lying? For what? They could definitely rip me apart if they wanted. They even had a baby star with them."

"Hnn." The old softie definitely suddenly had a moment of heartache from remembering the baby star.

Superman glanced behind himself, where the fascinating cluster of stars, planets, and black holes all existed in harmony together. The quasar and neutron star lit the way alongside the other stars and the tiny galaxy grew smaller and smaller as Superman flew away.

Whatever this galaxy actually was, Superman would be glad if they could find the help they needed and helped the Justice League in turn.

".... let's come back in a month," Batman said, sounding like it was pulled out from his teeth.

It was good that Batman felt the same way.

Perhaps the next time Superman came, he could chat some more with this little galaxy?

|||||||||||||||||||||||

I did so much research for this, it's crazy 😭

Dan is the black hole and Danny is the neutron star. The reason is that both of them are technically star corpses (a large or high-mass collapsed or dead star can either result in nothing, a black hole, or a neutron star) and while Dan consumes everything around him, Danny is a remnant of a star before him. The planetary nebula that came from Danny going supernova is consumed by his siblings, mostly Jazz or Dani. Dan and Danny don't fight over it bc they love their sisters.

Dani is a protostar, which is also a baby star. I hc that she used to be a star before, but she's just restarting her rebirth until she becomes a black hole or a neutron star like her siblings :3

Jazz is a quasar, which is a different type of black hole, (inspired by this post I made). She and Danny light the way for their little galaxy.

Tucker and Sam are also there, as planets! They used to be stars but they're reborn as planets this time. Tucker is a desert planet with several Saturn-like rings of metals and sand. Sam is a terrestrial planet and is capable of life. All that's on her is plants and animals tho (they haven't gotten enough time to evolve yet). The rest of the crew (Valerie, Wes, etc) are also there and are planets. They never really reach the level of stars tho.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #jazz fenton #danny phantom x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #celestial object au #dan phantom #dani phantom #dani fenton #danielle fenton #danielle phantom #phantom family #dp crossover #dp au #dp x dc au

2K notes · View notes

aeristudios · 1 month ago

Text

2099: A Seventeen Series

50 years ago, the milky way as we know it was destroyed, leaving the remaining human population to find find shelter in another galaxy—deemed The Shattered Nebula. Now it's 2099, and with civilization spawning across several planets, we will follow the lives of the thirteen souls of Seventeen as they carve their paths through love, danger, destiny, and the beyond...

Genres: fluff, angst, smut, sci-fi au, dystopian au

General warnings include heavy topics, depictions of violence and murder, talks of murder, uprisings/rebellions, morally grey characters, recreational drinking, use of guns, etc. Each story will be explicitly tagged and will be 18+ ONLY.

If you would like to sign up to be tagged for each story when it's released, you can sign up here.

✦ Thank you @hobeemin for the banner and dividers ✦

See You, Space Cowboy

✦ ⋆ ࣪. With a bounty on your head, you are determined to get your revenge at all costs… even if it means losing the man that you love.

pt. 1 pt. 2 visual concept 1 visual concept 2 playlist

Girl With The Spider Tattoo

✦ ⋆ ࣪. Jeonghan doesn’t do feelings. He runs his business, takes care of his sister, and lives his life attachment-free. He was okay with that until you showed up, too perfect and careful lies. But despite that, he wants you anyway.

coming soon

Like Wildfire

✦ ⋆ ࣪. She was someone soft from his past, a dreamer who longed to be with the stars—someone who had no business surviving in the bloodstained world Soonyoung lives in. She disappeared during an uprising, and he assumed she was dead. Now, years later, he finds her with the rebels, with eyes like wildfire, ready for revenge.

coming soon

Lucid Dreams

✦ ⋆ ࣪. After a near-death experience, Investigator Jun starts seeing you in his dreams, someone he doesn’t know but feels deeply connected to. When he tracks you down in real life, you claim never to have met. But each night, the lucid dreams grow stronger… and your reactions start to change.

coming soon

The Fixer

✦ ⋆ ࣪. Chan is a fixer—always ready to please, trained to obey… except for when it comes to you.

Sleeping With The Enemy

✦ ⋆ ࣪. You're the daughter of a rebel general, forced to marry the crowned prince Joshua to unite the warring factions. You hate each other and it's no secret. But an attempt on your life forces you to share chambers with him, and you aren't so sure you hate him anymore.

coming soon

What Lies Within

✦ ⋆ ࣪. You’re hired to investigate a string of murders tied to relics once held in the now-destroyed Oracle Vault. Minghao, a famous ancient artifact curator, agrees to help you, but only if he gets to keep the relics. The deeper you go, the more disturbing the truths become, and you find yourselves fighting for your lives— and running into each other’s arms.

coming soon

Save Me

✦ ⋆ ࣪. You're a prisoner from Mechara for a crime you did not commit, locked in a floating penitentiary. Injured during a riot, you’re taken to the infirmary, where Seokmin, the resident medic, treats you under strict surveillance. He’s gentle, careful, too kind for this place. And as much as you don’t want to, you start to trust him.

coming soon

T.K.O

✦ ⋆ ࣪. Seungkwan is a smooth-talking promoter who runs underground fights. Everything was going fine until you entered the ring and knocked him off his feet.

coming soon

Cordis

✦ ⋆ ࣪. You’re the sole survivor of an explosion from a chemical lab in Zoie City. Jihoon rescues you, bringing you to his station. He monitors your vitals daily as you recover, watching your heartbeat stabilize in sync with his own. He insists it’s clinical. But he’s lying

coming soon

Erased

✦ ⋆ ࣪. You sell memories on the black market—sliced, edited, and projected. Vernon is your most loyal client, always buying memories that don’t belong to him. One night, he brings you a memory chip he found—a forbidden one—and asks you to watch it with him. It’s a memory of the two of you: laughing, kissing, saying goodbye. You don’t remember it. But he does. And someone out there wants that memory erased—for good.

coming soon

Need You

✦ ⋆ ࣪. You overheard something you shouldn’t have, and you’ve been on the run ever since. Almost at the end of your rope, you turn to the one person you know would drop anything to save you—even though you still hate him for breaking your heart.

coming soon

Peaches

✦ ⋆ ࣪. Seungcheol is at the top of the world as the head of The Organization. He’s respected, feared, and if you are an enemy? Run. But once a month, he returns to his serene hometown to visit his mother… and buy peaches from the girl who doesn’t flinch when she looks him in the eye.

coming soon

181 notes · View notes

millidew · 7 months ago

Text

its been almost 6 years since kaito and ouma have infested me. here's me talking out of my ass for over 2k words

to love the ouma-kaito dynamic is to love the themes of v3. to see one of them as 100% correct and the other as 100% wrong is to hate the themes of v3.

there must be balance. which is one of the themes!

at first, they each represent one end of their spectrums: lies, distrust, and logic VS truth, trust, and emotion. but it's not all black and white— they're far more similar than they think

to get the obvious visual foiling out of the way: short vs tall, scrawny vs muscular, pale vs tan (relatively...), round eyes vs sharp eyes, cool purple vs warm purple, black and white vs a colorful galaxy, and a tight "straitjacket" vs what's basically loose pjs

they're visual opposites, but they're also both purple, charismatic leaders, would rather die than their let go of their respective roles of hero and villain, and both want to end the killing game. they're also both SO dramatic. they cannot be separated.

all this is to say that they're the same, just taking different approaches (i mean, just compare their early FTEs. what are you two FUCKING talking about. your ass is NOT a pirate kaito shut up). ouma hides drops of truth within his lies and lives to poke holes in others' poorly concealed lies. kaito talks about being honest, but is also constantly lying to himself and others. and it's so fitting for them to essentially die with each other.

lying your way to the truth, and 10 other tricks to surviving a killing game:

v3 is a game that asks: who are you? why are you even alive? what parts of you are really "you"?

in other words: what is true and what is a lie? does it matter?

the flashback lights are all lies. tsumugi can literally rewrite their "truth" as she wishes. and of course, there's the fact that they're all fictional characters come to life.

and there's the big lie of ch1, brought back in ch6. although this is less relevant to me, personally, because kaede fully intended and did try her damnedest to kill so either way she's still at fault soo

the theme of the survivors is that they all have a reason to fight to live even if the world is hell, because they're pushed forward by the connections they made— kaede's encouragements, the training with kaito that led to shuichi and maki's happiness, and himiko's memories of tenko and angie. even though maki loses kaito, because she had those good times with him that led to her change in self-worth, she'll be okay in the end. she's not enforcing her own loneliness anymore.

basically, "maybe the real reason to live is the friends we made along the way"

shuichi explicitly says that his feelings are true, even if they're born of lies. to lie, there has to be a truth. to be truthful, you can't lie. yin yang and all that

it's even shown with the game mechanic of perjury. kaede and shuichi can literally lie for the sake of finding the truth

he rejects being forced to choose between "hope" and "despair," breaking the cycle. it's pretty easy to apply this to the other dichotomies in v3: truth vs lies, trust vs distrust, logic vs emotion. even heroes vs villains.

ultimately, i think v3 aligns more closely with kaito's ideology, because of course truth and trust is a good thing....!, but not without poking massive holes in it too. because kaito's a prideful hypocrite and the game does NOT let you forget it <3 more on that later

little white lies AKA ouma is sick of your shit part 1:

"is the truth worth it? aren't feel-good white lies ok? what even is a lie?" ouma asks with his little hater heart. (ch1 and ch4)

here, we see ouma questioning the individual nature of common sense ("gut instinct", if you will)— how can kaede decide if his talent is a lie? what is a lie? if ouma is 99% lies by weight, what is ouma??? an annoying grape??

we all want the truth, right? but the truth can be ugly. that's what ouma's always showing.

this is something shuichi also tackles with his feelings on his own talent. by exposing the truth, he causes pain to others. but this isn't about him, so you'll just have to keep that in mind

in the death road to despair in ch1, it's kaede's optimism that causes misery to the rest of her classmates. they're lying to themselves when they try to do it over and over. again, ouma calls her out on it, pissing off kaito who supports kaede 100%. the idea they can all get out and become friends is…also really unlikely. and even with kaede's murder "for the greater good", ouma disparages her for doing it in the first place: she lost the moment she seriously considered the thought, and played right into monokuma's bloodthirsty lil' paws.

right after the ch3 execution, himiko still refuses to let herself feel… until ouma calls her out on it. stop lying to yourself. and they all let it out, crying together. it's a good thing, and spurs on himiko's arc to be more true to herself. you did a good thing, ouma. now onto ch4! yay!

the "truth of the outside world", and ch4 as a whole, is probably the most in your face way of showing this. but more on that later.

the boys are back:

if you want a good relationship with someone, vulnerability is key, one that ouma unfortunately can't replace with a lockpick. you have to be honest. maki and shuichi were honest to kaito, which let him help them out.

ouma is definitely not vulnerable, up until the very end. ouma's distrust of everyone pushes them away, leaving him alone— without the "reason to fight to live" the others have— living out of spite and determination, until he dies for that too. like maki, he reinforces his own loneliness, but unlike her, he never makes those connections that make him change into a more well-rounded person.

kaito's better than him, which is a really low bar, but the game goes out of its way to tell you that he's still hiding secrets and adamantly refuses to let down his hero persona, harming both himself and those around him. you are COUGHING UP BLOOD, you are NOT okay. while his sidekicks still know something is wrong, he refuses to truly let them in, instead just brushing them off.

and that pisses ouma off. at the very least, ouma's honest about being a liar. kaito, in his eyes, is a coward. (not only that, people still like him despite being a liar..... but that's probably more to do with kaito being way less of a dick).

ouma, in kaito's eyes, is also a coward. he can call ouma a two-faced coward as much as he wants, but pot, meet kettle

chapter 4 AKA ouma is sick of your shit part 2:

ok. seriously onto ch4 this time. it's the perfect set up to the insanity of ch5. the tension is insane. also, ouma does not shut up about kaito having a crush on him. ok man.

from now on, it's the kaito & ouma show, the truth & trust & hope & emotion & hero VS lies & distrust & despair & logic & villain show.

and the game puts kaito, and all his themes, in the wrong. poor gonta and shuichi are just along for the ride

the stubborn belief that worked so well for maki in ch2 makes kaito refuse to believe, despite the evidence pointing to it, that gonta is the blackened, endangering everyone. and this is the cause of kaito and shuichi's rift which ouma takes great pleasure in. i'm sure this greatly validates his own distrust and loneliness, seeing it as the superior option

kaito's a liar, shuichi's a liar, and gonta is...not a liar but still technically wrong. YOU'RE ALL LIARS AND KAITO/SHUICHI STANS. YOUR FAVE IS PROBLEMATIC. OUMA'S FUCKING PISSED

it's the hypocrisy that gets to him the most imo

does he know?

anyways, it's a great showdown between their two ideologies. up until now, i'd say the score was roughly 3:1 in kaito's favor, but now it's definitely more even. it even features ouma punching kaito instead of the other way around like last time: something made possible imo because of kaito's sickness, which ouma forces him and everyone to acknowledge by doing this

this is a massive L for the hero side.... can the sidekicks clutch this victory and save the princess?

(interestingly enough, note that kaito doesn't even seem to hate ouma after all that. at the start of ch5, he puts ouma and gonta in the same category as having snapped under the pressure due to monokuma. his feelings, of course, change later on.)

...

are you sure about that

yeah, the truth sucks sometimes, huh?

what now?

chapter 5 AKA the boys are back 2 AKA voyage without passion or purpose AKA the sickest chapter name ever

ch5 combines ouma and kaito's ideologies through their swansong, their magnum opus, their collective theatre kid dream

the hangar man. THE HANGAR. no more cameras. no more prying eyes. no more heroes. no more villains. NO PASSION (KAITO). NO PURPOSE (OUMA). WHAT'S THE POINT. IT ALL BLURS (probably because of the blood loss)

think about it this way: kaito is literally dying, hypocritically refusing to let his friends in. ouma is metaphorically dying, because he lacks the "reason to fight to survive" everyone else has, because he has no trust, no friends, no bitches... anyways

(also the poison, which is. you know. is also literally killing him but shush)

the closest he had was, imo, miu for a little, then kaito in ch5. but in the end, it's all spite, not connection, that drives him. ouma kills himself to prove a point, and they both die as a middle finger to the mastermind— a hollow victory, in many ways.

think about kaito sitting alone in the exisal, hacking his lungs out in the metallic silence of the belly of the beast, having just learned one of the truths behind ouma's act, then killing him, then having to lie to all your friends for the hope that ouma's final, crazy plan works out. he's finally stooped to ouma's level. he's so used to the smell of blood by now. does ouma's blood on his hands look any different from his own?

even kaito's motto: "the impossible is possible! all you gotta do it make it so!" is pretty much an admittance. you can make a lie (impossible) the truth (possible).

also ouma bleeding out looking like shit laying in kaito's galactic coat like a cape. kaito squeezing his eyes shut before before pressing the buttons. these images changed lives.

the lying truthersssss...working together!!! to literally pretend to be each other!!! to blur into one being!! trusting each other to see it through for their shared goal!! at first glance, maki thinks it's her fault— that ouma manipulated kaito using her, but kaito disagrees, saying it was for the sake of ending the killing game.

this is all to hammer home the idea that we shouldn't see them as "hero" or "villain." the cast sees them as it first, but of course, we know that's not so simple by the time kaito steps out of the exisal.

in the end, they fail, but kaito puts his and ouma's dreams in their hands. they can do it better this time.

plus, kaito finally stops lying to himself and others about being a liar, the thing ouma gave him endless shit for. it only took him 5 chapters

is it wrong to call "that was a lie" ouma's catchphrase?

i still can't believe maki believed him. love makes you stupid i guess

extra thoughts:

you might be wondering why i call him "ouma" and not "kokichi." i do the same with some other characters: kirigiri, togami (though i switch between that and byakuya nowadays), and komaeda. it's because i don't know them like that. we are NOT friends. "kirigiri" is out of respect however

don't you think ouma has his own "sidekicks," his "villain lackeys," if you will, in DICE?

kaito's execution music should've had the "reach for the stars" line from sdr2 and i'm still mad about it

and they should've both in that exisal idc

kaito somehow exited that exisal with a new jacket. it's my headcanon that, in respect of a fellow theatre kid, ouma stole a second jacket from kaito's room and put it in the exisal

VR au post game low(high)key codependent oumota is everything and i'll happily read 1000 fics about it

also just outside of the Themes of it all, and tbh my main draw to this duo... they're so funny. they are SO. FUNNY. THEY'RE SO GOOFY TOGETHER. STOP TRYING TO ONE UP EACH OTHER

they should run around and beat each other with toy hammers. it's enrichment.

this isn't like thematically relevant but their love hotel events really show how well they could work together. they want a rival to pump them up and fight back so bad!! they'd have the craziest vigilante beef

WHY IS THIS 2.1K WORDS/???!> i am so weak to rivals man

tldr: look at this meme.

tldr 2.0: a true kaito fan is also a true ouma fan and vice versa. you may not like it, but they're two peas in a pod. don't worry though, they're not happy about it either.

#my post #danganronpa #drv3 #ndrv3 #kaito momota #kokichi ouma #oumota #not really but like this is the core of any oumota propaganda imo #tw sui ideation #in the ch5 segment

152 notes · View notes

stargirl-writes · 2 years ago

Text

promises

pairing : f! reader x rots! anakin skywalker

word count : 1k

masterlist | ao3 link

summary

ever since anakin had killed dooku, your anxiety has never settled. for you were watching him slowly lose himself in the war. and you lie late at night lost in the idea that maybe, being with you didn't make any difference at all. so, you watched him sleep, at peace, stealing what little time you could have with him.

tags : angst, comfort, love, flangst (?)

warnings : pretty much none, just angsty stuff to cry to hehe

notes : hello beautiful people! i finished the film past lives and there's this one line that just shattered me 😭 so i just wanna share this little imagine before i go to sleep :) hope ya like it 🪽🩷

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated ! (and fuels me hehe)

Anakin Skywalker is your secret.

Your beautiful little secret.

Here wrapped in these sheets, where everything softens. Hushed. Kissed by the gentle rays of the moonlight.

You have been awake for some time now. But you didn't dare move. Anakin was still deep in his dreams exhausted from the day before. Despite his slumber, his arms wrap around you protectively.

You placed your head on his chest, following his breathing and listening to the soft thuds of his heart.

Your gaze lands on his peaceful expression.

How can someone look so beautifu?

You thought, he looked like the people in the paintings. Like how an artist would imagine a being with the perfect proportions. And he'd move as if each stroke is intended with grace.

The force made him. You'd sometimes catch yourself lost in his eyes, staring, studying the way it'd crease at the ends when he smiles. Is he even human? You'd think to yourself. He is the galaxy made flesh. That has to account for his prettiness, you think.

You take a deep breath; the scales of the ongoing war are further tipped to the Republic's advantage after Anakin had killed Dooku.

It was so close. Even the air itself has shifted. You can feel it, the end. You can almost visualize it.

Maybe then, things will change...

Selfishly, you feel your heart ache by the little amount of time you could share with Anakin. You can't help it, you have always belonged to him, and for that, you have suffered.

He is the Jedi Order's first. Before you can call him yours. You're not even sure if he is his own's anymore. Because you've watched how this war takes so much of him.

Be smarter, Be more cunning, Be more ruthless. Offer yourself again and again and again.

There's so little of him that remains.

You blinked, sighing once more. You reminded yourself that you are here, tangled in his embrace. It was enough to know that here he lies, with you.

Anakin shifts and you hold your breath. You begged the Gods to not wake him, not yet, let me have him, just for now.

Anakin mutters something. Huttese, the language he grew up on. Your eyebrows furrowed, you never really got to understanding the language even after studying it.

His heart paces under your touch. You kept your gaze on his face, deciding whether you should wake him up or have him rest.

He has been having so many nightmares lately...

His eyes abruptly open and you lent your weight on your elbow to better survey him.

"It's alright, Ani, it was just a dream" You spoke softly, careful not to startle him.

Anakin's wide-eye terror softens at the sight of you, his chest heaves trying to catch his breath.

"It's alright" You coo once more, placing a kiss on his forehead.

He presses his eyes close, and his eyes are intent in yours as he follows your breathing.

You can't help but feel a sting in your heart. He is reaching his limit, and it worries you that whenever he's away, he is close to blurring the lines and crossing it.

Anakin presses his face to your clavicle, and your hands find a way to tangle in his hair. Noticing his silence, you spoke soothingly "What's on your mind, Ani?"

Anakin's breath felt warm against your neck. You used to be able to read Anakin's thoughts. Like he'd write it down in words on pages of a novel for you to be able to understand him. But now, he's been more distant, more incoherent, and you feel as though you have to decipher every little thing that he allows you to see.

"mmm—just tired" Anakin's voice was gravelly and of resignation.

Stop turning me away. You wanted to say. But you already know that the more you try to push him, the further he'll hide away.

You take a deep breath, wishing you could take away some of the weight off his shoulders. "You know you speak in Huttese when you're asleep"

"I do?" Anakin tilts his chin, his eyes are still half-asleep.

"Yeah, I could never understand it though" You managed a wan smile.

"That's probably good for you, Huttese is a very coarse language" He claims.

"Still—" You held back your tongue, deciding it would only drive him away if you asked about his dream.

"I fear that you dream in a language I can't understand"

The silence hung. Anakin must be asleep.

Your gaze moved faraway— deep in contemplation. Wondering if you being in his life made any difference at all.

"You know, I only ever feel like myself when I'm with you, right?" Anakin speaks, voice barely above a whisper.

Your cheeks flushed scarlet, realizing your force signature may have revealed your anxieties.

"I know"

Anakin shifts his head, eyes latched on to you like he was memorizing every detail of your face.

"Ani" you began, "If there's a life after it all, will you come with me?"

Anakin's eyebrows flashed at the suddenness of your question.

"What do you mean?" He places his hand on the small of your back, tracing small circles.

"Well, I'm only wondering, will you come with me, even then?"

Anakin's expression softens, recognizing your fears. You were losing him, slowly, bit by bit. And if you're bound to him in this life, why not in the other?

When you can finally feel like you're not constantly the only one holding on.

He doesn't answer for a while, you feel the need to ramble, to withdraw.

It was silly of you to ask, he is free to choose whatever life he wants to live after it all, besides, if he decides to want to rest, you won't take that away from him, if he ever wants to—

"I'll go wherever you go" he declares, halting the thoughts plaguing your mind.

His eyes drift away from yours "I can't... I know what my duty requires of me and I'm sorry if I haven't been here for you."

"But, I'll love you in a time that isn't stolen" he promises, tucking your hair away from your face.

You felt tears glistening in your eyes. You smiled, leaning in to tenderly kiss Anakin.

The hope of it all would be enough to keep you going.

Just a little while longer.

535 notes · View notes

evermetnotforgotten · 18 days ago

Text

There's some comfort in his story finally being at its end.

This isn't how Coin thought he'd go, bleeding out in a hidden service centre at the ass end of the galaxy, mechanical body parts severed and strung over his head like the worst of party decorations. But if he's being honest - and Coin may be a crook and a thief, but he's not a liar - it isn't exactly out of scope. By all accounts he should be halfway to Turniget by now, or getting his brain fixed in a reeducation clinic in Realto 9. Worse things have happened to better crypto-anarchists than he.

At least he's been left alone for a minute, with Deputy Commissioner Deren Rieger, AKA the De-Commissioner, having left the cell a little while ago. It's a weary but welcome reprieve, to breathe, to starve, to lie in a steadily growing pool of his own blood, and to drive himself crazy with all the things he should or should not have done in order to not wind up in here.

Coin flexes his muscles, and immediately regrets it - it's super weird, wiggling your toes at one end of the room when your thighs are on the other.

His limbs are still connected to the little integration chip in his brain, at least until they take that out of him that too. Not only can he feel the magnetic cuff tethering left leg, right leg, right arm to the rack, but also the points at which the fingers of his right hand rest against the smooth, white wall. The faint damage alerts where certain sections are scratched or dented. The wetness of his own blood dripping off the integration ports, down the back of his wrist.

They're useless to him now, though - every single enhancement he's put into himself, rendered to nothing by brute force and a couple of magnets. Coin would feel hopeless, or frightened, if he could give the emotions any space amongst the pain.

Minutes turn to hours, and when he hears the shh-whoomph of the pneumatic door, Coin has no energy to spare except what he uses up in a pathetic groan. But at the slap of a wet mop Coin does look up, to see -

Oh. Oh good gods, he's alive.

Coin sees an android, one who has patched him, and been patched up by him countless times. One here to his rescue.

"Art," Coin says.

He knows it's really him from the visual history - the slightly miscoloured synthetic skin under his left eye, from that time Coin only had #DFC183. The silver stud in a single pierced helix, the android asking does this typically cause pain to a human? As the needle went through. The section of neck plating that doesnt quite sit right ever since it was torn off that once.

But if they were old acquaintances not-quite-recognising each other across a room, at least Art would have had to look at Coin to check. As it stands, not a single glance is afforded. The mop swipes slowly left to right.

"Arthur. Hey. Art."

His voice is hoarse from the screaming earlier. Stupid, in the end, to use a vital resource up so quick. When Coin reaches his flesh arm towards the android, in the path of the mop, his hand is deftly circumnavigated.

"Arthur," he tries again, knowing its no damn use - the thing has been wiped. "Tag one-eight-three-four. Oi. Pause subroutine." If he can just get Arthur to take his arm down off the wall, maybe he has a chance of getting them both out of here.

The android pays no mind, completely focused on his task of dragging the mop side to side through the leakage of Coin's blood. His movements are smooth and efficient, like in all things, and he's wearing a thin vest in fluorescent green that reads I'M HERE TO HELP on the breast. His eyes, dimmed like when they're in night mode, carefully track where the offending liquid escapes the sweep of his tool. He retreats to the interior corridor once, to rinse the mop when it's doing nothing but making things dirtier.

It's then that it clicks. Art came in here because of a cleaning main routine adjustment made by Coin himself - a bid to get him to clean into the access chamber, and not just to the threshold. He probably thinks he's doing that right now. Coin lifts a shaky hand to press thumb and forefinger into closed eyelids.

"Give me my arm. Or, or a leg - void, Art, give me anything. Look at me."

For just a second, it seems as though he's used the magic words - mercifully, Art looks at him. Moves a little closer with that blank but open expression on his face, the same one he gets after gently advising Coin that his heart rate is elevated, asking if he'd like to do a breathing exercise.

Then the android pulls a cloth from his vest pocket, and wipes up a missed smear of blood by Coin's head.

Coin can't help the unearthly laugh that escapes him.

"She's gonna kill me." He laughs again. "She's gonna fucking kill me, and you're gonna hear it. You're gonna be right outside the fucking door."

If Arthur understands, there's not a single indication of it. He moves back into the corridor, internal service ticket closed, moving to the next. The fluro vest has the same cheerful slogan printed on the back in block letters, this time with a smiling cartoon dog underneath.

"Don't you dare leave me here," Coin pleads.

The door closes.

Maybe there are worse ways to go, Coin just can't think of any right now.

#what do I tag uhh #space whump #scifi horror #space pirates - the working title that doesnt even make sense anymore #coin lacoste #arthur #deren rieger #body horror tw

27 notes · View notes

blackynsupremacy · 8 months ago

Text

THERE’S SOMETHING

ABOUT YOU.

CHAPTER 4

pairing: smallville!clark kent x black!fem!oc

fandom: smallville (2001-2011)

guest starring: aaliyah haughton as lyric james

also starring:

michael rosenbaum as lex luthor

emmanuelle vaugier as dr. helen bryce

rick gonzales as omar reyes

bianca lawson as trina davis

summary: ever since lana lang has moved in with the sullivan’s, clark kent’s nightly telescopic views of the galaxy and daily glimpse of the sunrise tend to get lonelier. that is until a moving truck, a wandering amicable feline, and her frustrated owner, lyric james, makes her debut in his life as her family are the new owners of the old potter house next door. things between the new neighbors start to shift as clark is tasked as her personal tour guide at her new school. one little slip is all it takes for her to learn he’s more than meets the eye in this small town.

taglist: @sabrinasopposite @camiesully @zombigrlll @ellethespaceunicorn @rosiestalez @afrogirl3005 @afrowrites @elitesanjisimp @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @gxuxhdjdu @tryingtograspctrl @xoxoglittergossip @hnch33rios @paisholotus

contains: lots of words, friends to neighbors, use of gifs for visuals, tooth rotting fluff, long flashback, really heavy angst, heartbreak, emotional cheating, mention of death, depression, anger, lyric and clark getting closer, mild swearing, cute moments, slow burn, main audience is black readers but everyone is welcome. lyric’s thoughts. clark’s thoughts. chloe’s thoughts.

PLEASE READ: CHAPTER 3

the golden afternoon sunlight shown down on lyric and clark’s faces as they waited for chloe to arrive. they were outside of the barn and clark wanted to kill time by shooting some hoops while lyric sat on the side to observe. as she saw him jog and dribble the basketball to shoot it perfectly into the net, she realized that clark had a very athletic build. she could see it in his arms, legs, and best of all, his torso and chest. lyric broke her stare and chided herself for such thoughts, but one had to be a fool to not think clark as tall, dark, and handsome by any means. he also had the proficient athletic skills, and almost perfect academic standing, but he never mentioned anything about being on one of smallville high’s several athletic programs. no football, no basketball, not anything. it just seemed like a waste of talent when she saw the ball flawlessly glide through the net once again.

“you sure know how to hoop, clark!” lyric complimented with a slow nod of approval. even though clark was a little exasperated, his smile couldn’t resist the girl’s praises.

“gee, thanks, lyric! i can’t take all of the credit. i learned mostly from pete’s older brothers and they told me it’s all about technique.”

“you never fail to be modest. that’s got me thinkin’— do you play any sports at school? you never mentioned it, but it’s impossible because you got the skill, you got the grades, and you sure as hell have the looks for it!” she enthusiastically hyped, gesturing her hand towards his six foot frame. for some reason, clark’s face got heated. his cheeks flutter with a hue of red. he wasn’t so used to friends of the opposite sex speak so fondly of his appearance. calm down, dude, it’s just a compliment. take it with a grain of salt. he clears his throat and shyly wipes the sweat off his brow with his forearm.

��well, i do want to play football. i’ve tried it once earlier, but things didn’t quite work out with the coach. he had some—anger issues among other shady things that my parents weren’t exactly comfortable with. hopefully, i can give it another shot down the road while we’re still in high school. maybe if i’m good enough, i could make the quarterback spot.”

clark said as he bounced the ball and stepped towards where lyric was standing. he could remember it like it was yesterday. he joined the smallville high crows football team after so many attempts to convince his parents to at least let him try out. they only forbade it due to the risk of clark’s powers being exposed, but he’d figured he’d have a handle on them by now, and it was an activity that made him feel like a normal teen. it was all fun and games until the head coach was caught helping his players cheat on tests, so they could play. when the principal got word of it and set out the proper consequences for the coach, things got heated…literally. clark spared lyric the details because she was already so curious about the wall of weird and the last thing she needed was for her to feel like she wasn’t safe in this supposed quiet small town.

“oh. well, that’s too bad, but when you do, i’ll be rooting for you from the stands! you’d have a pretty good shot at it. i’m more of a basketball fan, but i guess i can make the exception.” they both fill the air with light laughter and their conversation comes to a halt at the sound of a tooting horn. a vibrant, red volkswagen beetle swiftly pulls up in front of the barn. the driver’s side window rolls down to reveal a smiling chloe behind the wheel and pete seated comfortably in the passenger.

“hey, you guys! are you geared up for the most exhilarating studying session of your entire lives?” chloe wittingly questions as pete chuckles and shakes his head before chiming in,

“you can always count on chloe to call a regular old studying session ‘exhilarating’. ”

“hey! in my defense, wherever there’s coffee, i might as well do what i do with caffeine in my veins.”

clark and lyric give each other a knowing glance, a glint of humor within their eyes before they make their way closer to the car. clark leans against the driver side with his arm propped up against the top. his piercing blue eyes meets chloe’s gaze with a charm that she knew too well and loved too much.

“exhilarating, huh? it sounds to me like you’re putting that vocabulary list from english to good use, chloe.” clark commented with a lopsided smirk.

“well, if i’m ever going to make it big at the daily planet as a journalist, i’d better possess some type of flawless vocabulary, clark.” the blonde retorts and leans her head over to the side to spot lyric and greet her.

“hey, lyric! you can hop in and sit in the front with me, so we can have some girl talk on the way to town.”

lyric received the offer with a grin, but shook her head to politely decline. she saw that pete was there first and didn’t want to be rude by putting him out of his seat.

“i appreciate it, chloe, but i don’t wanna take pete—“

“oh, nonsense. he’ll be fine! he can just sit in the back with clark. it’s my car after all.” chloe urges by cutting her green eyes to the boy beside her, signaling him to move to the back. pete doesn’t protest. he gathers his bag and meets with clark in the right backseat as lyric meets with chloe in the passenger seat. the teens all buckle up their seatbelts and chloe pulls off onto the dusty path out of the neighborhood to journey to downtown smallville. during the ride, chloe’s natural inquisitiveness takes over when asking general questions about the new girl next door in her passenger seat. the boys casually sit in the back quietly to observe the conversation.

“so, lyric, where you do hail from?”

“new york. brooklyn, to be exact.”

“ah, another fellow city girl. i’m from metropolis which isn’t too far from smallville, but new york to smallville is quite a stretch. is there a specific reason why?” lyric purses her lips at the question and swallows to easily get past without dwelling too much on the reason.

“my family just wanted a new scene. someplace…quiet and peaceful.” her soft voice drifts as she gazes at the lengthy path of cornfields at the side of the road.

“that’s valid. um, so what do you like to do?”

“nothing too extreme. i like to listen to vinyls, chill with my cat, and i take some pictures here and there.”

“aw, a cat! what’s their name? if my dad didn’t have such a fatal allergy, i’d love to have a furry friend.” chloe enthusiastically coos passing the sign that indicated that they were entering downtown smallville.

“her name is noir. she’s a black cat that looks like she could do no wrong, but it’s a whole ‘nother story. don’t get me wrong, i love her with all my heart, but she’s so damn sneaky sometimes that she’s almost sent me into a nervous breakdown. i’ll say if it weren’t for her, i wouldn’t have met clark though, so i guess there’s a light at the end of that tunnel.” chloe presses further to her details of the day.

pete tuned in as well to hear lyric recount that hectic morning. chloe picked up on lyric’s tone. chloe liked to her the girl beside her talk. her voice was smooth, soft, and gentle like rain to the ear. she can hear the frustration of when lyric discovered that noir was missing in a new area shift to that of ease and resolution when she discovered a well fed and content noir in the arms of the noble farm boy next door. pete turned from lyric’s direction to momentarily glance at clark as she spoke. he witnessed the sky blue pupils of his best friend attentively focus on lyric as if he were hearing this story for the first time. there was a certain positive emotion that rested on his face, he even chimed in his own perspective and a little inside joke causing the duo to dissolve into laughter. pete saw that was usually new. when clark talked to girls, he’d be a bit guarded, but friendly enough, but from what he saw between clark and lyric just now, clark looked to be so at ease, so at liberty.

once the volume of the chatter diminished to a peaceful silence, lyric’s deep, brunette pupils wandered at the sights of the many local owned establishments this quaint city had to offer. there was quite a few people out enjoying the serene, golden afternoon as they strolled with their pets and families on the sidewalk. clark, pete, and chloe were kind enough to point out some key areas that were worth exploring for when lyric was ready to take that new step. they passed an array of shops, boutiques, restaurants, and community centers, but lyric had one burning question.

“these all seem really cool, ya’ll, but does smallville have a music store? i got a whole collection to keep up with at home.” lyric inquires with expectant glance towards the trio. pete immediately knew the answer as he and his family had lived in smallville for ages.

“i know one that’s not too far from here. i think it’s called main street melody. i believe from the talon it’s just down two blocks and it’s a cool place. i’ve been there a couple times for some mixtapes. we should go check it out after we study if you’re up for it.” pete stated scooting his body forward from the backseat to the middle, positioning himself with his elbows on the console between the girls.

“yeah! i’d like to see what they got. i really appreciate that, pete. you’re a real one.” lyric’s eyes locked with his and she flashed a congenial dimpled smile of gratitude to which pete took it with a tingling sensation in his stomach and a bashful grin of his own, his chestnut toned face heated slightly.

“i-it’s, uh, it’s no problem, lyric. i’m glad to be of some help.” he lets out a stammering chuckle and scoots to the backseat. a dazed, delighted look was etched on his face. he didn’t even notice that clark examined him with an arched brow and tilted head. guess i’m not the only one. clark thought to himself. chloe was listening to the conversation unfold, she chuckled after witnessing pete’s reaction to lyric’s natural beauty and charm. for a city girl, she had that small town girl-next-door charisma down to a tee.

“ask her out, why don’t you!” chloe snickered and slowed the car down to precisely parallel park in front of a building. like smallville high, it possessed the color palette of red, gold, and black. it resembled one of those classic movie theaters from the seventies and there was a large, neon sign that displayed the word, TALON, vertically letter-by-letter in gold lettering. lyric found it to be aesthetically pleasing in an old-fashioned sort of way.

“chloe!” the guys whine in sync at chloe’s forwardness, not wanting to be put out there in front of lyric. clark knew that chloe was directly talking to pete, but he still felt like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. lyric chortled, shaking her head and playfully rolling her eyes at chloe as the girls unbuckled their seatbelts.

“come on, chlo’, don’t bug him like that! it probably didn’t mean anything. leave them alone!” she joked and leaned down to grab her belongings and passed over chloe’s bag for her to receive.

chloe shrugged her shoulders, pursing her pink glossed lips.

“i admire your modesty, lyric, but i’ve been around them long enough to know when a guy is completely smitten. you should ask clark when it comes to lana lang.”

clark’s eyes cut to chloe in annoyance with a deadpanned expression. despite chloe trying to humor lyric, there was a hint of envy underneath her lighthearted tone.

“girl, i already know! i mean, lana seems nice and she’s gorgeous, but you are too! who wouldn’t want to be looked at like that? it’s an exciting feeling—it’s an experience to appreciate while you still got it…don’t trip on pete and clark so much. they’re good guys.” she compliments with a glance towards the backseat and proceeds to gather her belongings, exit the car, and wait for the others to follow suit. clark walked passed lyric, chloe, and pete to hold the door open for all of them to enter to the crowded hangout. once she stepped in, lyric was amazed with the turnout of this place. she noticed that the main population were teens and young adults, but there were good bit of older patrons as well. the interior was setup like any lounge of a modern coffee shop with individual tables that were scattered throughout the room. the decor was set to look like the royal palaces and chambers of ancient egypt, the walls and pillars were engraved with hieroglyphics. there were lights that were strung along giving the room such a faint ambient glow. the warmness of the luxurious golds and yellows mingled with the cool, sophisticated regalia of the blues and violets. the talon was so immense that it had a stairway and so much more that lyric wanted to gawk at before chloe grabbed her wrist to leave the boys behind to grab a table and lead her to the counter. it was there where she saw lana lang preparing a drink order by maneuvering the large, chrome coffee machine. when the girls made it to the counter, chloe’s bubbly voice caused lana to stop what she’s doing and welcome them with an award winning smile.

“hey, you guys! lyric, i’m so glad you’ve came. welcome to the talon. so, what do you think of the place so far?” lana questioned with her hands to gesture at the lounge.

“thank you, lana! i love the setup, the theme, and it’s huge! no wonder why it’s so jumpin’ here. it looks like one of those old movie theaters from the outside.” lyric compliments which lana graciously accepted before she gives lyric the run down on how the talon was in fact a movie theater where her late parents met. she’d quit cheerleading causing her to fight tooth and nail against her aunt’s expectations of her high school career and to keep the place open by converting it to a coffee shop and movie theater after partnering with lex luthor. ever since then, the talon has been thriving more than ever.

“if it weren’t for lex, this place would’ve been a distant memory.” chloe stated, her eyes perusing the scene laid out in front of them. lana solemnly nodded in agreement.

lex luthor. where did lyric hear that name before? right, at dinner with the kents. it was the rich guy that clark saved and they’ve good been friends since then. i don’t remember much about what he’d look like, but he’ll most likely stand out from the rest of the citizens of smallville for sure. lyric sympathetically nods, lending lana her congratulations and condolences while still feeling curious.

“i’m so sorry for your loss, lana. they would be so happy that you did this to keep their memory alive. i respect you for that!”

“thank you, lyric, would i be more worthy of your respect when you get your first free coffee?”

the girls briefly giggle and lyric decided to play it safe by requesting a regular cappuccino. chloe ordered the usual for her and the guys before they both walk to find clark and pete at a corner table, with their books and papers all set out for the academic cramming to begin. one empty seat was to clark’s left and the other, to pete’s right. as the girls approached them, lyric lightened the mood at the sight of the boys’ serious, focused attention on the assignments.

“did we keep ya’ll waiting that long that you’ve already started the assignment that’s due next week?” lyric joked, sharing a chuckle with chloe when clark and pete’s head’s simultaneously peer up at the sound of her voice. chloe gestured to the empty seats,

“we’ve already ordered the study fuel, by the way. mind if we sit?”

“no, not at all. here, lyric. you can take this one.” clark offers after putting his book down on the table. he stands up to pull out the empty chair next to him for her to sit. lyric felt that familiar fluttering within her stomach as she came closer to the table to sit down next to clark. girl, calm down. he’s just being a gentleman, it’s not like he’s never pulled a chair out for you before. once she was scooted in and comfortable, she thanked him with a smile of gratitude and rummaged through her backpack to find the unfinished assignments she had to complete. chloe took the seat next to pete and she couldn’t help, but feel a bit—slighted. don’t get her wrong, as much as she loved clark (more than) platonically, she was unfortunately living with the reality that he would never reciprocate those feelings for the sake of their friendship and his own feelings for lana. although, she’d never seen him move so quick to have a girl next to him besides…lana. especially not a girl he’d just met a couple days ago. chloe pondered if it was just the effect of that house. god, what’s in the water there? clark nip? her train of thought halted at the sound of an annoyed ground.

“mmcht! don’t tell me that i— ugh, where’s it at!” lyric hissed as she frantically searched through her bag with a confused, yet frustrated expression.

“what’s the matter, lyric?” clark asked with inquiring, blue eyes.

“i think i left the monte cristo book at home. it’s only my first assignment and the last thing i need is to be behind even more. ugh!” she huffs and assertively zips the bag closed after gathering everything else.

“here, we can use mine. i haven’t quite finished reading yet, so we’re gonna have to split it.”

“that’s really cool of you, clark, but are you sure—“

“lyric, i insist. that’s what good neighbors are for, right?” he questioned with his amicable gaze locked with hers, flashing that cheeky, pearly white smile that she knew so well, but for so little. her face heated with a nervous grin and chuckle. to keep herself composed and promptly get the assignment done, she didn’t choose to argue.

“if you’re gonna put it that way, clark, i might as well. hell, it’s not like i got a choice. thank you—again.” she concedes and opens her notebook before scooting a little closer to clark to steal a decent glance of the text.

“it’s always my pleasure, lyric.” he softly responds with a lingering grin before filling her in on the chapter they’re supposed to report on.

as they silently read and briefly gave each other’s analysis of a phrase, clark’s attentive gaze focused on her as she spoke, but his nostrils naturally inhaled the scent of the sweet fresh, natural scent of cocoa butter mixed with hints of vanilla and coconut. it was such a pleasant aroma that complimented the smell of brewing coffee. clark was so caught up, that he didn’t even notice lex luthor waltz in the door with his fiancée, dr. helen bryce, traveling closely by his side with their fingers intertwined. the luthor’s eyes darted from table to table to find his good friend with his usual circle. to his avail, he found them at their table in the corner. there was also another person he hadn’t seen before and she was sitting awfully close to clark while chatting and taking notes. lex found it odd to see clark in such a position with a girl besides lana. with burning curiosity, he lets helen know that he’s going to speak to clark momentarily while she can use his card to get them some coffee and pastries. helen agreed, as she wanted to minimize any interaction with the farm boy knowing what she knows, but she’ll civilly swing by after she handles business at the counter, so they go their separate ways.

“long time, no see, clark.” lex says as he strides to the table of the four preoccupied teens that shift their attention to him. clark receives lex with an amicable smile and immediately greets him back,

“hey, lex! it’s good to see you out of the shadows of the mansion. how’re things going with you and dr. bryce?”

lex casually grins while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his tailored pants.

“not too bad. we both had a bit of a catastrophe of a work day, so we decided to unwind with some coffee and sweets. i hope i’m not interrupting important, you seem to be preoccupied—with your studies.”

“oh, no, not at all. let me guess, you and mr. luthor had another falling out?”

lex confirms with a silent, tight lipped nod. his inquisitive eyes shift to lyric who returned her own curious stare.

“i guess i left my manners with my father back at the mansion. it’s nice to meet you, my name is lex luthor, ceo of luthorcorp , and you must be…?” he pauses, leading her to answer,

“i’m not trippin’ over it. i’m lyric. lyric james. my family and i just moved here from new york on saturday. i’m also clark’s new next-door neighbor and i’ve heard so much about you, mr. luthor.” she cordially regards, knowing this man was definitely not in high school. he holds his hand out for her to grasp and shake briefly before pulling their hands away.

“all bad, i suppose and please, call me lex. my father, lionel, should be referred as such.”

“no, sir, mr—lex. not from the way clark talks a good deal about you. i won’t front, i’ve heard some bad, but i can’t be the one to judge too quick because i don’t know you like you don’t know me. you must be lucky to have a friend like clark to save your life.”

“when you say it out, lyric, i couldn’t agree more with you. i’m always grateful for him and the kent’s. perhaps one day, you’ll see what i mean.”

lex received her statement with a warm smile upon his face. whoever this james girl was in clark’s circle, didn’t know him from a can of paint and still gave him a fighting chance without the use of a bribe, blackmail, nor smalltown gossip. he could see why the farm boy had a bit of a entranced look on his face towards her when he walked in. there was definitely something about her that was more than more than outer beauty. lex all of people would know.

as lyric and lex finished their conversation, she didn’t notice a blushing clark that hastily averted his gaze from her to his book, but she did see a beautiful young woman saunter from across the room and stop to stand closely beside lex. she possessed long brown hair, round brown eyes with long lashes, and full pink lips. by the way she stood so close to lex, lyric could obviously tell they were romantically involved.

“lex, they didn’t have the maple scones today, so i just got us some danishes and our usual drink order.” the woman said, handing him the pastry and a cup of coffee which he gratefully received by kissing her on the cheek. she pulls her blushing face from his lips and amicably greets the group before her,

“hello! i hope you all are doing well. chloe, pete—clark, and i’m sorry, i don’t believe i’ve seen you before. my name is dr. helen bryce i work at the local hospital here in smallville. who might you be?” she inquired with her amber gaze pointed to lyric. lex helped to save the girl’s breath by giving helen the introduction.

“thank you, helen. this is lyric james, she’s the kent’s new next door neighbor. her family had just moved to smallville from new york a few days ago.”

helen squinted and registered the familiar surname before the lightbulb of realization came on,

“ah, right! when i heard “james”, i had a hunch it was you. i know your mother, crystal, she’s one of the newest nurses on my team. even though she just started, i can tell she’s a very dedicated woman to the profession. she’s mentioned that she had a daughter attend smallville high and here she is. it’s so nice to finally meet you, lyric.”

“likewise! thank you, dr. bryce for the kind words about my mom. it was great to meet you both!”

lex and helen bid the group a farewell and took their exit of the establishment. lyric beamed at the praise about her mother. it made her feel a twinge of guilt when she felt an ounce of resentment towards her parents for working so many hours of their demanding careers, but it warmed her heart at the knowledge that they made a difference, no matter where they went. hopefully, she’ll be able to live up to that expectation. two hours of studying pass by and the sun was beginning to set. chloe, clark, pete, and lyric are ready to throw in the towel and start packing up to go home. lyric wanted to check out the main street melody store, but one, she was already exhausted and two, she had a ride that she wouldn’t dare to keep waiting. she’d see it again another day.

one by one, chloe drops off her friends and wishes them a goodnight. once they made their stop in front of kent farm, chloe doesn’t leave without lyric spotting her a ten for gas. clark spectated as the girls playfully argue for two minutes because chloe kept refusing and lyric kept insisting. given her order was free, she didn’t have to spend anything and she wanted to return the favor. chloe finally conceded, took the money with gratitude, and pulled off, leaving lyric and clark alone again in front of his house. the quiet silence was filled with the sound of chirping crickets and the steady footsteps of lyric and clark as he walked her home. as they approached the james house, the driveway was bare and most of the lights were off. it appeared that her parents were still at work. clark didn’t feel right with her staying all alone in the house. outside of the light snack and coffee, he wasn’t certain if she had dinner. not to mention, the welfare of her black cat that he’s grown attached to. they stood on the large, round porch at the front door. lyric searched her bag to retrieve the entrusted house key. when she reached to turn the lock, the touch of a hand on her shoulder caused her to stop and turn around.

“what’s up, clark?”

“lyric, i think it would be safer for you and noir if you guys stayed at my house until your folks get home. at the end of the day, it’s your decision, but if you come over, you can try to call your parents and let them know. if not, just reach out if you need anything.”

lyric pondered on the farm boy’s offer with pursed lips. she was so used to this back home and it was quiet around here, so what could possibly go wrong? or so she thought, what if one those people infected by meteor rocks happened to stumble on what seemed to be an empty house with an unsuspecting teenager and her vulnerable feline sleeping peacefully? with a careful review of clark’s perspective and a deep sigh, her mind was made up.

“if it’s cool with mr. and mrs. kent, i’ll leave my parents a message, scoop noir, and we’ll be there. i didn’t want to intrude because i’ve done this before. i—“ she was cut off when a rumbling sound erupted from her abdomen. the two were dead silent for two seconds before clark broke it,

“i guess you wouldn’t mind intruding for dinner and you do know that you’re always welcome, right? judging by the sound of your stomach, it looks like you wanted to come over anyway.” he teased with a lopsided smirk.

“not too much on me, clark.” she playfully chided with her finger pointed in his direction. their laughter fills the air as she unlocks the door and she invites him to follow her inside. it didn’t take long to hear that familiar mewling sound and the soft jingling of a collar. noir cuddled herself against her owner’s ankle to receive loving pets upon her furry head, chin, and spine. when the cat spotted clark, she stood on her hind legs, tiny paws pressing against his jeans. clark took his cue to scoop her in his arms and gently hold her while lyric stood and watched in awe. she won’t lie, she loved how trusting noir was with clark. it made the butterflies in her arise when he saw this gentle giant of a farm boy cradle noir like that was his child. to keep herself down from cloud nine, she had another idea.

“hey, you want to listen to some records after dinner? that’s only if you want, we can just come back here and chill. it’s no pressure, if you’re tired i’d un—“

“lyric.”

“yeah, clark?”

“were you ever going to give me the chance to say ‘yes’?”

he grins, softly bouncing noir in his arms. she releases a faux gasp and playfully whacks him in the forearm, causing him to dissolve in laughter.

“i—clark kent! don’t mess with me right now, i know i talk a lot, but it’s been a long day. there’s nothing wrong with valuing other people’s time.” his gaze softened as he watched her take a piece of hair from that fell in her face to behind her ear.

“okay, okay. i’m sorry for teasing and thank you, i respect you for that. i’d love to come over to hear some records. it’s about time i’d expand my musical horizons. just like how you explored a literal horizon with your camera.”

“you’ve got a way with words, clark. now i can definitely see you being a journalist now. it’s a deal. you give me early morning sunrises and i’ll give you late night jam sessions, ya dig?”

he gives a nod of approval and lends lyric the chance to use her landline to call both her parent’s work extensions. crystal didn’t pick up, so she left a message. fortunately, joseph answered and gave his approval, but sternly teased lyric for her and clark to listen to records with her door open, whether he or crystal were home or not. the james girl concludes the conversation before her and clark proceed to take the familiar path to kent farm where she and noir were warmly received by jonathan and martha. they spent the next hour and a half indulging in the hot meal that was meticulously prepared and they were going around the table to share how their days went. even noir was content in the tuna and milk that was prepared for her by martha. when all were fed and the kitchen was tidy, the teens return back to the james house where lyric leads clark upstairs to her bedroom.

“welcome to my crib!” she exaggerates with wide arms as they enter and he chuckles at her quip. even with the new posters, furniture, and arrangements, clark knew that this was lana’s old room. he’d only really caught a glimpse of it through his telescope or within his odd dreams concerning his powers, but actually stepping foot inside felt so surreal. his blue eyes peruse to various spaces like to her bed, vanity, closet, and the overall setting that made the room reflect lyric of who she was. this was now her home, her room, and her space, so clark had to make peace with the fact that the past was in the past. it’s time to live in the now.

she led him to take a seat on her plush, lavender rug. while playing with noir in his lap, she walks a few feet away and squats to the record player to routinely adjust it to the proper settings. they endure a comfortable silence as lyric places the vinyl from stevie wonder’s 1971 album “where i’m coming from” on the turntable after scavenging through her growing collection.

her fingers gingerly lift the head-shell to delicately place the needle on the vinyl. as it starts to spin, the soft, soulful notes of “never dream you’d leave in summer” began to fill the room, lyric found herself lost in the music, her ebony gaze shifted to the window where the sky had transformed from a warm gold to the deep, dark shade of her cat’s coat. the melancholy melody solemnly filled her senses as the memories of him start to flood back like restless waves in the ocean. the song crooned, and lyric felt that painful lump form in her throat and the heaviness weigh in her chest. the memories all flash back within her brain —images of laughter, love, warmth, and the sharp sting of loss and betrayal that she thought was left in brooklyn still seemed to follow her no matter what she did , where she went, or who she talked to, lyric can’t forget about him. she glanced at clark who immediately met her gaze. his defined features softened by the dim amber light of her lamp. as his eyes were starting to paint the image of concern, she pondered on how long she could keep her inner turmoil a secret any longer. besides her parents, he was the only one who picked up on her sadness during the sunrise.

she realized that as the music played on, it was like a bittersweet reminder of everything she had faced back in her hometown. her bedroom suddenly felt charged with an energy that gave her the courage to speak, to finally share the real reason that why the james family would move all the way to smallville, kansas. after taking a drawn out breath, she turned her whole body to him, her lips slightly agape before she breaks the silence,

“clark, do you remember this morning when i was acting a little funny when it came to taking those pictures?— i tried so hard to play it off like it didn’t bother me of why i stopped, but if i’m going to live in the present, i need to let the past of my chest. if we’re going to be friends, the least we can do is be honest with each other, right?”

clark slowly nods and he could hear her heart racing. he sensed there was an urgency, she was scared, but of what? of who? he had hoped to the stars that it wasn’t of him. did he slip up and then perhaps she saw him use one of his powers? neither the matter, his concern was growing and he placed his hands on top of hers.

“lyric, you can tell me anything. i’m so glad that you could trust me enough to do that. just know that i’m here for you. i’m listening.” with a nod of his head, the look in his encourages her to take the time she needed.

she took one last deep, deep breath. she closed eyes her briefly to gather the millions of thoughts she had into one story.

“back in new york…i had a best friend. he became my first love then he became my worst enemy, and he’s long gone, but clark, i can’t let him go… his name was omar.”

BROOKLYN, NY 2000-2001

omar reyes was lyric james’ childhood best friend back in new york and her first love. he was a sweet boy that lived a decent childhood until his parents divorced and his dad had full custody of him after his mother moved away. to keep himself busy, omar decided to play basketball all throughout elementary and middle school. he’d study more often to make his parents proud and boy, were his grades were top tier. in the midst of that studying, he grew fond of science and anatomy, but his mind was already made up that he wanted to be a professional NBA player or a coach like his father after college. lyric could remember when he was just practicing shooting hoops on the street after the older kids excluded him for being too short to play and even though she didn’t have a deep knowledge of the sport, she learned to love it as she supported him. lyric pushed omar to show those bullies he that was capable of exceeding anyone’s expectations. the bond between him and lyric was unbreakable. omar was the one that gifted lyric with the hoops that she oddly still adorns to this day, they had their first kiss on her thirteenth h birthday, and when they turned fourteen, omar confessed his feelings and officially asked lyric to be his girlfriend to which she immediately accepted and the bliss of young love took its course in their lives.

he was a great first boyfriend for lyric. loyal, kind, affectionate, attentive, and humorous. her parents enjoyed his company, but things took a turn when they entered high school and not for the better.

omar seemed kind of…off.

he seemed to appear to be thinner and more fatigued than usual, but he just dismissed it as stress from school, sports, and life in general. while practicing in the gym, he had a hard fall that resulted in so many bruises on his body that he had to quit basketball indefinitely, so the school wouldn’t be held liable. it all came to a head at the beginning of freshman year when he was tutoring lyric at her place while crystal happened to be home preparing dinner. everything was fine until omar stood up to go to use the restroom and then he harshly collapsed to the floor after taking one step, rendering him unconscious. crystal urgently called the paramedics and his father to get him to the er. after the doctor ran some tests, omar was diagnosed with stage two leukemia and had to start treatment right away. lyric didn’t hesitate to stay by his side and visit the hospital as much as she could for the strength her boyfriend, herself, and their relationship. lyric hoped and believed that the treatment he was receiving would be the light at the end of the tunnel and everything would return to normal, right? wrong.

it all changed so drastically as the condition worsened from stage two to stage four. omar had to be sent to duke hospital for treatment. duke hospital was in durham, north carolina—which was almost five-hundred miles away. omar and lyric decided to make a long distance relationship work by writing letters and talking on the phone when they were both available. lyric and omar consistently corresponded with each other those first few weeks. well—mostly lyric, but she understood because he needed to focus on getting well and the best she could do was stick by him like a loyal girlfriend, right? she added in something special to each letter, a developed photo that she snapped with her camera. each photo possessed the inspiration that captured the essence of their home and memories.

days turn to weeks, and weeks into months with no update from neither omar nor his parents. lyric grew weary, a bitter vile feeling within the pit of her stomach. something wasn’t right. one day, she came home after school and she was baffled to see both of her parents were home, sitting in the living room. they tell her to sit down in order to relay the message from the reyes family: omar lost his battle and he was gone. lyric was so in shock that her parents voices faded out, so she couldn’t even register the details of a funeral, a wake, or a cremation. seven days of mourning passed and the event of the funeral arrived. clad in all black with dark loc shades, lyric was cold and numb, but at the urging of omar’s family, she was permitted to say heartfelt remarks about the deceased. how could she explain a lifelong bond within two to three minutes? she looked at some familiar and unfamiliar faces in the crowd as she recounted her times with boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend. by the time she was done, the tears silently rolled down her cheeks and her mother consoled her through the entirety of the service. everyone in attendance came back to reyes’ home to eat, give their condolences, and chat about the mundane. lyric was seated on the sofa and just stared at the minimal portion of food on her plate. she’d rarely had an appetite during the time of her bereavement. her state of disassociation was paused when an unfamiliar, high pitched female voice breaks her out from her solitude.

“so i guess you must be lyric, huh?” the james girl gazed at the other teenaged girl in front of her. she was a few inches shorter. although heartache painted her face, she had striking features that consisted of tawny brown skin, deep almond shaped eyes, high cheek bones, and full lips.

“is this seat taken?” the girl asked to which lyric shook her head side to side, giving her the cue to sit. the girls sit in an awkward silence for about two minutes and the latter began to speak,

“i already know your name, so it’s only fair that you know mine— i’m trina davis. um, my mom and i came up from north carolina to say our final goodbyes. she was actually the lead nurse that helped with omar’s cancer treatment at duke.”

“it’s nice to meet you, trina. how long are you in town for?” lyric inquired.

“likewise! we’ll be flying back the day after tomorrow—lyric, may i ask you a question?”

lyric deliberately nods and placed the untouched plate from her lap onto the coffee table. she turned her body to trina, awaiting the question.

“i don’t want to pry, but i’m gonna try to make this make sense as much as possible. so—i’ve heard in your speech that you were omar’s girlfriend, how long have you guys been together?”

“well we made it official this past july. he got diagnosed in september, went to duke in october, and now it’s february, so a good six months, if my math is on point.” she dryly chuckled.

“why?” lyric quizzed and her eyes caught onto trina’s dumbfounded expression. lyric noticed the gulp that ran down the girl’s neck as her jaw clenched.

“you know how i said that my mom was the lead nurse for him, right?”

lyric nodded again to lend the girl a listening ear. trina began to explain how her mother had inspired her to work in the field of caring for cancer patients, so she decided to do volunteer work by reading to the patients and keeping them company, you know to get that experience. that was when she met omar in mid october. she would read titles such as to kill a mockingbird or the count of monte cristo. omar expressed that he was looking forward to reading those books in his honors english class, but life happened. with her mother’s permission, the teens would sit in the hospital garden and chat beyond the analysis of the characters in the texts they’ve read. on a weekly basis, they’d converse about their pet peeves, hobbies, interests, music tastes, favorite movies, and anything under the sun really.

at the start of november, trina sat at omar’s bedside and he was dozing off. that was her cue to leave silently and she ran into a nurse who had an envelope with omar’s name on it in his hand. trina told the nurse that omar was sleeping and that she will place it on his bedside. the nurse gives the envelope to trina and took his leave as she examined the enclosed message. her natural nosiness wanted to know of the hand that inked her new friend’s name in blue with such skilled calligraphy. trina stopped herself from her the temptation to open it and sat it down beside him. the next week in the garden, she questioned omar about the letter. he then dismissed the value of the letter and that it was his from his “home girl lyric” from his hometown. to ease trina’s worries, he reassured her that would read it later that day.

omar received lyric’s letters frequently, but with the sickness that took toll on his body had hindered his correspondence. it wasn’t like omar didn’t cherish her letters and photographs that he received at first, but with each passing day his heart for their relationship grew more distant as he started to grow more tired of his condition and tired of his life. omar couldn’t sit in denial that he fought the good fight for long enough. at that point, he was ready to raise and wave the white flag in surrender, but he didn’t want to tell lyric anything. he didn’t want to cause her anymore heartbreak than he already had, so he just stopped responding all together. he had hoped that one day lyric would find it in her heart forgive him, whether he lived or not. trina unknowingly accepted the answer and reassures him that his friend would understand. she joked that if she was his girlfriend then there would be some suspicions, but if they’d agreed to make that work, then lyric would be a saint.

by thanksgiving, trina and omar grew closer in their emotional connection. even though trina enjoyed the day with her own family, she found it in her heart to urge her mother to drop by duke to at least deliver omar a light plate of her grandmother’s home style cooking, with his appetite willing. jovial at her mother’s approval, she was already up the elevator and knocked softly on omar’s door before she sauntered her way in with her offering. the teens faces beamed as they saw each other after a short time apart. trina placed the aluminum foil covered plate to reveal the basics such as turkey, dressing, mac n’ cheese, and potato salad. omar looked at it like it was first —or last meal. he told her he’d eat it tomorrow when his appetite allowed him and she put it to the side. the two made small talk before she attempted to leave the room only to feel a hand meekly grab onto hers.

“omar is everything ok—“ her sentence was cut short as her face collided with his chest and both of his arms encircled around her. trina was stunned at this.

“just stay with me…. i’m scared.”

he pleads for her presence and her heart grew heavy in sorrow as omar’s tears rain on her scalp, so stayed for a little bit longer. omar knew that he wouldn’t have much time left and he needed her to be by his side until then, so it didn’t take long for them to get emotionally involved through the holiday seasons until his untimely demise.

lyric sat there as her emotions internally wreaked havoc in her mind. she swallowed before she stuttered her words out.

“y-you’re telling me t-that you and omar were—

“yes.” trina somberly interrupted. “we were together until he died. he only called you his good friend, so i thought it was okay. i’m so sorry, lyric. i swear i didn’t know because he’d rarely talk about you after that.” trina’s voice started to crack and got higher in pitch as the tears rapidly streamed down her cheeks. she gazed down at the ground with such guilt and disappointment.

“god, i wish that my nosiness made me see the truth in that letter, but i respected him that much, so i didn’t. lyric, i’m—“

“it’s fine.” lyric cut her off.

“no—no, lyric, it’s not fine. we knew of his condition and he knew it was getting worse, but it doesn’t give him the right to fool us like that. especially not to you, i only knew him in his last moments and you, his whole life! if i were you i’d be—

“don’t tell me how i should feel, trina. i said it’s fine.” lyric sternly affirmed, her face stoic as her finger brushed a piece of hair from falling in front of her eye. she deeply sighed as her eyes looked up at the white ceiling, sliding her tongue across the front of her top teeth before resuming,

“you didn’t know, so i’m not mad at you, trina. i just wish i knew why he would do that and i know that i will never get my answer. not from you and definitely not from omar, so in that case, it’s fine.” lyric wraps her arm around trina’s shoulder to wish her the best when she travels back to north carolina and departed from her seat on the couch before fishing her parents out of the sea of visitors and informing them that she was ready to leave due to nausea. not exactly a lie, but a good excuse for the james family to leave quickly to their home.

to say that lyric was an emotional wreck was an understatement. for those next few weeks, her tears poured out until they ran dry and irritated her skin. she secluded herself within the four walls of her room, all day and all night unless she had to relieve herself. she didn’t care anymore. reassuring words didn’t fix this. sleeping for several hours didn’t fix this. toni braxton’s “unbreak my heart” on repeat certainly didn’t fix it. she closed herself off at school and floated by to at least pass the ninth grade, she didn’t want to celebrate her fifteenth birthday back in april, and the only ones she invited into her life were noir and the tunes on her record player.

her parents were worried that it was just more than omar’s death that caused their daughter to spiral into such a state and they made that decision to get her counseling when summer break began. in the first and second sessions, the therapist wanted to get to know lyric personally on her own with her parents waiting outside the door. by the third session, joseph and crystal were present in the room. lyric didn’t want to speak nor cooperate. she was surprised that she got out of the sanctuary of her bed and went in the car without putting up a fight. no matter how many questions they’ve asked or exercises they were trying to perform, she’d stay frozen like a guarded statue until she reached her boiling point when asked,

“tell me this, lyric—if omar were sitting in this room what would you say to him now?”

her brows furrowed and a scowl was painted on her face. every muscle tensed as the word vomit was about to explode all over the office at the mere thought of that boy—that coward.

“everything around here reminds me of you. i want to let you go because you hurt me. you hurt me and i don’t want to think about you, but i need answers! how the hell could you break my heart without me noticing until you were gone?!”

lyric rose to her feet and began to pace around, her dark eyes shifted to a corner where she could see a vision of him so vunerable as he laid in the hospital bed, with trina at his side. “i swear, omar, if you weren’t dead already, i’d kill your ass—why the hell would you agree to a long distance relationship when you knew it wouldn’t work, huh? if it wasn’t gonna work, why didn’t you hit me up or write me back? all i did was send you letters to tell you how much i loved and missed you, omar, but you just gave up—and you didn’t want to tell me, but you had the strength for somebody else. a girl you knew for a couple of months! wow. why? why, huh? WHY!?”

lyric confessed her plight to the therapist and her chest heaved as she collapsed with her head buried in her hands. her body was quivering as the hot tears flooded like water down her face. joseph and crystal quickly come to her aid. they had never seen their daughter be so enraged and emotionally inflicted. later that night, crystal and joseph had a private conversation, made some phone calls, and decided it was best to get lyric away from new york indefinitely.

SMALLVILLE, KANSAS 2002

“so, that’s why we really moved here. that’s how we ended up here in kansas. we had to get away and find a new scene, so that i couldn’t appear as the girl that went mad with grief, but clark i still have those moments where i feel so empty. i felt like i was left to hang alone.”

by the time she concluded her story, the intensity of stevie’s voice increases, lyric tears up a bit and her lips start to quiver. she takes a deep breath and averts her gaze up to the ceiling to bottle up what she couldn’t contain any longer. before she knew it, a pool of tears started to flow down the smooth, brown skin of her solemn face. clark clutched onto her hand to lightly squeeze it of reassurance.

“you’re not alone, lyric. i know what it’s like to lose someone and they’re the only ones who have the answers that you need. you feel that you miss them because…they’re the key to the truth and there’s nothing wrong about wanting to know the truth, no matter how life altering it could be. we just have to—oh!”

clark is interrupted when her arms are clutching to his torso and her face buried was near his middle.

“thank you—so much. all you’ve done was help me since i came here. i can’t be grateful enough for you, clark.” her muffled, soft voice vibrated against his skin.

clark responded with one action that night: being there for her. he immediately wrapped his arms around her and let her sob her sorrows out until she dozed off to sleep with her head in his lap. noir sat by their side and observed the two as her tail softly swished across the floor. thankfully, lyric was a heavy sleeper. clark gingerly adjusted his body off the floor, so that he could carry her bridal style to gently lay her on the bed. he managed to tuck her in within the lavender duvet as he heard a car pull into the driveway and the sound of her parents call out to her. clark jogs downstairs to formally greet mr. and mrs. james. clark explains what went on that evening and that lyric was safely tucked in and asleep.

at first her parents were so worried that lyric would suffer from another breakdown when the omar situation was brought up, but they felt relief wash over them as they knew that clark was there every step of the way and that she was safe. they appraised him with their gratitude and offer for him to visit often. his family had made their family welcome and it was in due time to return the favor, especially for all of what the young kent has done for their daughter. clark bid the james family a goodnight and walked off of the porch before giving a final glance to lyric’s bedroom window. it was completely dark and his eyes of blue met with the yellow-green of noir’s. the feline was perched on the window sill.

“take good care of her for me, girl.” he said to the distant cat in a hushed tone before utilizing his super speed to get him home in a timely manner.

135 notes · View notes

beefscrap · 6 months ago

Text

CONTEST HONORABLE MENTIONS

A total of 12 designs were submitted for this contest. Holy crap! I couldn’t ask for more. Not only that but they were all so goddamn cool and creative. It was HARD picking the top three out of all of them. So if you weren’t chosen, you should still be so proud of yourself!! Thank you to each and every one of you for your submissions.

Everyone who didn’t get first place can do whatever they wish with their designs, ofc. Whatever you choose, I wanted to do a LITTLE something to express my thanks. So I did a stupid little doodle for each of them :]

THE SUBMISSIONS

The first submission, and a GREAT start! I love your clean style, and the colors you used. Like I said before, I LOVE the birthmark

SO BADASS!!! Nugget never fails to make an amazing design. The headcanons are so silly and entertaining to think abt. Imagining a dragon who loves to walk on his hind legs for no reason like lmaooo

The colors here are FANTASTIC. The fades between each scale plate are super unique. I really love the pattern of the stars, too. Just a super cool style in general.

I ADORE the idea of nightwing scales going white with age for this dude. As I said before I loveee how he’s shaped. So many fun lore ideas were added to this guy. I love old men

Beautiful wings and awesome colors. The combo of red and blue is really cool. You have such a pretty style!!! And I love their big ears

Another baddassss designnnn. Face marking you added is something I just can’t get over. I had so much fun reading the lore.. and his name (Sickle-Moon) is so cool sounding.??! Where do yall find these names

(As I’ve said) I haven’t seen compression gloves like this for a dragon before! That’s so cool! And the pattern on them makes them even better. The blues are great - need more blue Nightwings in my life

The amount of detail put into this is CRAZY. Especially with those accessories - holy crap. They were something i particularly kept note of because of the job this character has in the story …

Love love loveddd this guy. Again, the tear drop jewelry was something I kept in mind and really liked. There’s so much care put into the scales in this drawing. Omg some of you have patience that I do NOT

#I will have the top results next soon :]#then.. more book 2 news #aiming for early January 👀#for the prologue #tbofs2designchallenge

47 notes · View notes

novadodson · 1 year ago

Text

#• “he had galaxies in his eyes” → VISUALS •#q post more videos so i can have content i beg

1 note · View note

septima-severa · 2 months ago

Text

The Abuse of Power excerpt (Krennic/reader, NSFW)

[technically, I'm doing this only to taunt my lovely co-conspirator, @thrawnnn]

“Didn’t have the luxury of dressing properly, Orson,” you hummed. “I was too busy kissing the arses of those you manipulate me to, although I refused to suck Tarkin’s shrivelled cock. Is it what messed you up this time? Did he complain about my refusal, hmm?”

“Close,” he acknowledged. Of course, the Grand Moff had given him an earful, hinting at your rejection too much. As if he had revelled in every single opportunity to cause the director an anguish. But it hadn’t been only him that had been grinding his gears recently –

At his admission, you continued, ignorant of the other cause. “First, both his wife and the newest mistress wouldn’t appreciate it, and I would end up with my eyes scratched out at best. And second, there is not enough engine coolant to rinse my mouth with afterwards. I would rather you fucking my ass – and you know I hate it – than entertaining that fossil in private,” you scowled while your monologue grew heated, making your strange accent more prominent. “Not to mention that you wouldn’t approve of it.” More recent memories flooded your mind then. “… Oh, no, I take it back. I wouldn’t fuck the Grand Vizier for all the credits in this galaxy.”

He chuckled at your words. “Did he propose?”

“Oh, yes. At least twice today, his visual display of agitation will circulate the gossip columns for a while – you know how that Chagrian is. And the reporters will be mocking me, no doubt, because of it. I think he’s done it on purpose,” you paused, grimacing at the unfinished thought. “If you manage to piss off the Emperor, I’m going to kill you myself, and then I’m going to poison myself with the coolant. Over your cold, dead body.”

“How romantic,” Krennic cocked his head. “But not if I shoot you first.”

The barrel of his pistol jabbed your ribs again.

“Then do it,” you hissed.

Instead of a bolt coming, he yanked the other strap of your garment down and stepped back to admire your naked body for a moment when it pooled at your feet, as you didn’t wear anything else. You watched him defiantly as he holstered his weapon again, wearing it on the opposite hip from his dominant hand as always. There was no way to hide the prominent bulge in his pants, its growth fuelled by lust. Once his desire to see you naked was sated, he reached for you, grabbing your arm and yanking you to him. You could feel his badly concealed erection, hot and heavy, pressing into your lower stomach, twitching at the sudden proximity of its intended prize.

He bent you over the chair forcibly, and you huffed at the contact, barely catching yourself. The shimmersilk kimono you had discarded there earlier crumpled under your vice grip keeping you somewhat steady. His glove was trailing down your back maddeningly slowly, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before he kicked your legs apart with his boot. You shivered, knowing too well what was to come prior to his hands cupping your naked bottom, kneading the flesh, exposing everything to his scrutiny.

Can he see how embarrassingly wet it makes you?

A finger gliding in between your folds told him all he needed to know anyway. He barely suppressed a bark of laugh at this discovery. “The thought of Mas Amedda ravaging you has turned you on, I see,” he mocked you. Pressing his soiled fingers to your mouth, he commanded darkly, “Clean it.”

#star wars #fanfiction #director krennic #orson krennic smut #krennic x reader #grand moff tarkin

26 notes · View notes

weebsinstash · 2 years ago

Note

I just have to say I'm absolutely loving your yandere Thragg & Nolan stuff! Keep it up & I hope you have a nice day!! ♡

Thank you! And, also, gonna be using this post to talk about more yandere Thragg stuff because I was refreshing my knowledge on the comics and my YTShorts feeds are now filled with Invincible lore recommendations and, jesus I forgot how fucking nasty this man is

first off I'm using this image to just help kind of visualize how much of a unit this man is. Like. He's probably something crazy like 6'6 at the very shortest, maybe like 6'8, 6'9. But. Um. He's scary. He's tough. Viltrumites get tougher the longer they're alive and he's, not THE oldest Viltrumite but, maybe he's in like the top 10? But I think there's only something like an odd, less than 50 number of pure blooded Viltrumites left anyways lmao

Which is then my transition to "dealing with yandad Thragg as his child could be an absolute nightmare especially if you don't have powers"

Dying on my hill of "even if you do have powers he's super fucking possessive over who you're choosing as a mate or even just dating" because there's layers of 1. He has his own massive ego and your actions reflect on him and anyone you bring into the family will benefit from his lineage and achievements and he's defensive about who reaps those bounties or may even be suspicious of political intentions 2. If he hypothetically does let you date he needs to pre approve them first and I'm sure you can imagine how that goes and 3. .... you're his widdle baby, can't you spend more time with dad :( shut up about finding love, why can't you crush skulls with him? "Child why can't we go slaughter alien civilizations together like we used to 😩"

The last paragraph made me think of "Thragg with a child Reader who's actually a really spunky tough kid and he like is so proud of you and you guys have like An Actually Good Relationship (for Thragg's capacity to love anyways) but as you get older you start having ideological differences and you want more freedom but he just wants you to be Daddys Favorite Little Killing Machine for the rest of your life". Like you're just giving Thragg the cold shoulder because he won't let you leave the planet without his personal escort anymore and meanwhile here's thragg hovering over you with his arms crossed, internally scowl-pouting as he remembers The Good Old Days when you were like 6 and ran up to him, "Dad, Dad, look!! this is a note from my teacher praising me for how well I beat up another student! She says I'm 'extremely proficient at bludgeoning'! Did I do a good job?" "You did an EXCELLENT job. It says here the boy needed medical attention." "Yeah, he had to be sent to the hospital! His legs were totally bent the wrong ways! He shouldnt have tried to steal my toy!" "Fine work; you should never allow anyone to take what is yours. We shall feast tonight in celebration." And he pet your hair and you flew up to his chest height to give him a crushing hug. And nowadays you're like. The Viltrumite equivalent of being in your early adult years and everything is extremely cold and impersonal and you call him nothing other than Grand Regent and he "maybe" just wants his eager confident prideful Affectionate child back because all he has now is. A child that hates him and will barely make eye contact with him and will never accept his praise or medals for your achievements.

Like imagine being a notoriously powerful Viltrumite and you're actually widely accepted but him being controlling of you throughout your childhood eventually gave you a complex. Thragg summons you to like praise you for like, subjugating a nearby galaxy, and asks what you would like for a reward, and you just coolly reply some shit like "There's nothing you could offer that I want, Grand Regent" like you hate him so much you don't even want gifts from this man

AND THE DELICIOUS DRAMA OF, imagine if he finds out that while you hate him and want nothing to do with him, maybe you've become extremely attached to Nolan or some other older father figure in his place

THE SHIT THAT GOES DOWN IF THRAGG EVER HEARS YOU CALL NOLAN OR ANYONE ELSE "DAD" like the cosmic level beef that goes on, the BLOODSHED. Jesus. Imagine being on Earth and you've got Dad Nolan or he's like declared himself your dad/mentor and he sees you bonding with another human male who's a father figure and you call that man dad, like. That man is going missing and Uncle Sam is erasing his existence from the records just, gone.

Side note actually, idea for something yandere viltrumites do with a viltrumite/hybrid reader: loving to bear hug you super hard? Like almost painfully but they won't break anything. Just. Imagine yandad Nolan or Thragg or Mark with like, a lil sibling/ child/ age regressed Reader or whatever and you're having like, hugging contests to see who can hug the hardest, and play wrestling shit idk. Imagine the infamously grumpy genocidal Thragg and then here's his like 4 year old wanting to play wrestle and trying to pin him and you're no match for him of course but like it's not, real, he's "gently" deflecting you or breaking your hold but still actually praising you in that, Thragg dad way, "your stance is too weak to take down an opponent of my size, but you're improving" " your siblings usually tire by now; you seem to have more endurance than most of my other children your age. Excellent" and then your little baby mouth gives him a kiss on the cheek and he has to go subjugate another planet to feel manly again.

I feel like yandad Thragg and Nolan are unironically those characters that are like, they could be in the middle of a war zone and they're easily winning and you go upstairs to see what they're thinking about, surely they're thinking about something serious, and it's just "I need to hurry this up and get back to my child" or "I wonder what my little warrior is doing right now" like straight up like the father from Father I Don't Want This Marriage

Yandere Thragg and Nolan are all "oh it's part of the Viltrum way to mate and procreate and boost our numbers" and Reader comes along "hey dad this is my new boyfriend--" and suddenly they turn into like, Christian fundamentalists. "Um actually that Viltrumite male is even older than I am 🤓 you are still so young and should be enjoying the fruits of your youth 🤓 you are too young to have children"

I feel like though like if you ever did manage to sneak off and get pregnant or get someone else pregnant that, specifically Nolan would adore his new grand baby and would do anything for this chubby cutie 🥺❤️ also imagine the horror if he's not even your blood dad, just obsessive self proclaimed stalker yandere shit, but you can't run away from him and he's finds you and your baby and instantly declares himself grandpa, like. Now you have to worry about protecting yourself and your baby from "PawPaw"

So like. Future spoilers I guess? Not super significant in my opinion, but, there's a period of time where there's like a truce of sorts between Earth and Viltrum, right, to keep it vague and less spoiler heavy. Imagine being like, Nolan's kid, or adopted kid, or like, neighbor who turned out to be a hybrid that he yoinked into his house or whatever, and like, after there's been some fighting, Thragg is impressed with your strength and potential and seems to be scouting you out a little. Now you've got TWO older Viltrumite males trying to father you, "my apologies Grand Regent but I was just about to take this one out to teach them how to fly better" "that is unnecessary; i shall be the one to tutor the youngling" meanwhile you're just like uhhhhh I'm not actually a big fan of how EITHER of you treat me-"

bruhhhh all hell breaks loose when you finally lose it and fly straight off the planet to try and start a new life elsewhere without them cuz then these two are TEAMING UP and they're feeding into each other, "I bet they were convinced to leave by that one male, the one who we had to warn before" "and that's why you're weak Nolan. I wanted to kill him but you didn't want to hurt the youth's feelings, and now what's happened? They're probably eloping as we speak" "no, I won't make the same mistake twice. He'll die a slow death"

You're on like some alien planet surrounded by like simple little ewoks or some shit who treat you like a water god because you dug a well for them or something and here comes Thragg and Nolan touchdown slamming onto the planet's surface and leaving craters behind, scaring the birds, the animals, your new little cute alien friends huddling behind you for protection, and you're getting SCOLDED SCOLDED. like one minute your new little like moogle friend is teaching you how to bake some kind of bread and the next minute, "AND JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOURE DOING HERE" and you're jumping to see two pissed pissed PISSED Viltrumites

"O-oh, uh, I thought I made it clear when I left--"

"The only thing that you've made clear is that you're too unpredictable and naive to be left alone"

"What were you THINKING?! You could've gotten lost, hurt, captured, or worse! And leaving Viltrum for, what?! Are these your pets? We can enslave a few and take them with us if you like em so much"

"If you EVER leave without my permission as Grand Regent again I'll reduce whatever backwater rock you stumble off to into nothing more than rubble floating through the stars, is that understood?"

"..."

"Answer him!"

'*sigh* yes, sirs"

"That's FATHER to you"

" - and Dad!"

#yandere invincible #yandere x reader #sinprompts #yandere stuff #these two always at each othsrs throats and then one day you just catch them sitting down talking about you #bonding over their. uh. attachment and surveillance of you

369 notes · View notes

phantomphangphucker · 3 months ago

Text

Phic Phight - My Hourglass and His Crown

For: @spacemomnephmoreau @bibliophilea @jessaverant

ClockWork has been around since the beginning, seen Ancients rise and fall, seen kings come and go. Yet there’s only one that truly means anything to them, only one they’re really willing to be involved in.

A being of the liminal folds between existence and oblivion, where endings begin and beginnings end, where stars are born and forgotten in the same breath, nothing and everything as a singularity. The God of Time sits in their citadel made of ticking clocks and winding gears, viewing screens of times past and times yet, times now and times never. They were an Ancient even by the standards of all other Ancients, their form cloaked in the purple sands of endless hourglasses woven in to fuzzy satin, a grandfather clock contained within a chest that’s seen eons before eons existed; a lone scar their only blemish, as time mars all, even time itself.

They were far too much for any other… though that was not quite true, became not quite true.

They had waited. Stayed objective, remained hands off. Passive and neutral. But still they waited, waited for a pair of eyes like twin spirals of galaxies slowly spinning down down down.

Down an impossible path. One of hope, and pain. One of happiness, and misery. One of freedom, and entrapment. One of genuine unadulterated contradictions.

They waited for the entrapment of the Mad High King of Ghosts, the God of Death and all that comes there after, the one who had ruled for eons himself, but as a cruel and violent fist. They helped his ascension, like so many others, yet did so with warnings of darkness; foretold only ages of Dark.

They had preferred the leisure and passivity of the previous god king, of the second god king. They could always appreciate freedom and wanderlust and apathy and neutrality. It is quite unfortunate that lazy days must be of the short variety, they must end long before any shall desire them to; and as such, they did.

And the first, the only god queen, was simply too fresh, too new, too weak. There was nothing for her and nothing to truly grow or glean from her. Forgotten to all and ineffectual to a fault.

Darkness gets vanquished, leisure always interrupted, and weakness squashed.

Wheels always turned. Things always changed. As that was the flow and marching on of existence, of time, of all. And yet… someone new could arise who denied just that. So they waited. Waited for that. For an impossibility. Watchful eyes called it foolish, insane, pitiful.

They hardly care. They never care. Instead they watch.

Time had been watching him. Watching with a cold detachment, like frost clinging to a corpse’s cheek. Time clinging and caressing his cheek as he became and unbecame a corpse. Formed and unformed against reality itself.

A young god, born of stars already collapsed yet visual still and mourning songs never sung, carved from the space between heartbeats and core pulses. He was not like any others. Alive and dead. Gone and not. Playful and drowning. Strong and broken. Where life or death had always been over a firm line, this one danced along it. Bled his pain down both sides of the wall, smearing it all over both sides and staining them with him. Revered, even before his own time, by those who whispered prayers into ice and danced through snow for lost souls. He came baring no crown, yet with life and death weighing down each shoulder demanding he drown in his impossibility. Treading water with playful waves and leisurely kicks, sometimes feigning at slipping below the waves before shooting back up to the surface, as if mocking the fabric of reality itself. Sometimes he slipped down a little too deep, sunk a little too far, yet always splashed back, always rebroke the surface; gasping and flailing, left barely able to function yet functioning still.

They loved every twist and turn the boy made and made and made.

They liked the way this new half-death played and fought bedside the dying and living, touching their hearts and souls with icy fingers gentle as falling ash filled with childish giggles. They liked the cheeky timbre of his voice, the way he spoke to ghosts as if they were old friends and good times. And they liked, perhaps more than they should have, the way he never looked away when Time entered the room. The burnt up burning star of a child always saw them and gravitated forwards.

They had never been anyone’s sun.

He made them his.

So when the dark mad High Ghost King’s own hourglass ran dry, Time had not mourned, they had merely turned the glass. Filled the glass, filled it up with galaxies of green and red littered with stars and laughs and cries. There was so much, he was so much, so impossibly absurd, that liquid teased at spilling over. Spidering cracks threatening to shatter everything.

A glass that needed a metal crown attached to the rim, clamping down, to add some height and hold firm the glass. Overflowed but not spilling, shattered but not breaking.

The realms trembled with the Ancient God of Time, one who sees and knows all, descending to the High Throne of Ghosts. All other Ancients vanishing like smoke, for even they know not to meddle in the affairs of these two. None of them with any interest in conversing with Time, one they see as simple constant given form rather than a being of their own.

Yet…the young almost god stood waiting, dark kimono-like robe trailing and hanging as if funeral veils, a silver thread of soul light white wrapping around his waist and neck, his hands and feet. He looks to Time and… he beams, face alight with joy and awe and relief and fear. Time understands, Time always does. Time… loves this child.

He does not kneel; Time had not asked it of him, never would.

“ClockWork-”.

No one else ever calls them by name. Not in anyway or from any mouth that matters.

“-You look more dressed up than usual? Gave your clock case a good spit shine!”.

They have never done such a thing. “But of course, Daniel”, turning to look out at the lands of greens and purples, “you’ve grown well”, Time’s voice deep enough to echo across centuries, “too well, perhaps. You’ve made me fond of you”.

The star who’s a sun tilts his head, “you say that like it’s a bad thing?”.

“It is”, Time admits, nodding, stepping close enough to ruffle the impossible star child’s hair, “affection breeds error. But also… it shapes futures”. They, Time’s personification, was never meant to shape, not truly.

They were going to make a mistake one day.

They never had.

They would.

They see it. They avoid it. They see it again.

And yet… for him they find they can’t help but not care.

He shakes his head, “hey I’m pretty sure my entire existence is one really big, really weird, error”.

It absolutely was.

Time shakes their head, amused, slipping a hand within their cloak, drawing forth a crown made of iced obsidian and starlight, shaped like the fractured ring of a collapsed star dripping upwards with ice stalactites. It hums with power, with finality; for this boy was a truly immortal thing. Death that lives, life that’s dead. For it, a crown that would not sit easily on the head of any Ancient; though shoulders already weighed down may see it as a mere evening out of pressure.

As such, when they place it upon Death’s brow, it settles like it has always belonged there. It… feels strange and cruel and mournful and beautiful to remove their fingers from it. To allow it to truly be a part of him. A tortured Prometheus, who brought Time true fire, thus proclaimed himself a god.

“You are an Ancient yourself now, High King now and forevermore”, Time exhales, “God of endings. Of memory. Of mourning. Of loss. Of exploded stars. Of corpses gone cold”.

Death speaks nothing at first, merely watches Time. Then, “and of all of time’s end results?”.

Time’s smile is small, hidden behind the shifting sands of their beard, “that, too. If you find you are enough”. He was always enough.

They stood there, the Ancient of Time and the Ancient King of Death, surrounded by a stillness that only they could share. And for a moment, Time lets the seconds pause, a simple time out just for themselves. To take in the star that made a sun of them, and them a son of him.

After all, what was the point of ruling time, if not to steal a little of it, now and then, for someone cherished?

End.

Prompts: Clockwork has seen Ghost Kings rise and fall, has even been instrumental in those things for more than one of them, but he has never been as involved with the ascension of any King quite as deeply as with this one Of all the beings Clockwork has cheated for, Danny is Clockwork's favorite. But what does it mean to be favored by the physical embodiment of time itself? "I held the power of a dying sun / I climb the altar and I claim my place as God!" - Circle With Me by Spiritbox.

#danny phantom #phandom #danny fenton #phic phight #phantomphangphucker #have a fic suck my dick #my writing #fanfic #clockwork #Ghost King Danny Phantom #gothmoth #mentor clockwork

23 notes · View notes

uzumaki-rebellion · 10 months ago

Text

"Tethered to You" Chapter 3

Masterlist HERE.

youtube

"It's unfortunate that when we feel a storm

We can roll ourselves over 'cause we're uncomfortable

Oh well, the devil makes us sin

But we like it when we're spinning in his grip

Love is like a sin, my love

For the ones that feel it the most

Look at her with her eyes like a flame

She will love you like a fly will never love you again"

Massive Attack – "Paradise Circus"

Qimir guided the sleek Exile II onto an obsidian wave-cut platform in the middle of the night off the coast of his own personal island retreat. The tide was out and the uneven rocky land bridge that led to his secret cave was visible by starlight. He'd be able to carry Osha into his hideaway right away. She would have to get acclimated quickly on her own before he had to fly out again to meet his Master in person for a few days. On his return, he would begin her training. Sitting in the cockpit he looked at his hands. They quivered with the overwhelming sense of satisfaction.

He found his true acolyte.

Closing his eyes, he rested his body and mind, becoming calm enough to luxuriate in the winning of Osha's trust to come with him. The inhospitable cold outside seeped into the starship. He flexed his fingers to keep them warm. Nights by the sea often brought a stinging pain, enough to split tender skin and make it bleed. He tapped a button on his display to keep heat inside Osha's cockpit for a few minutes longer. He needed time to decompress from the long flight.

Mae had been a failure.

Qimir had just been a means to an end for the other twin. She didn't look far beyond the killing of the four Jedi. Revenge was enough with her shortsightedness, and although she desired for him to be her true Master, Mae lacked the passion and follow-through to see the bigger picture: Destruction of all Jedi.

Osha? Well, she had the passion and inner will to do more damage than Mae could ever dream of. He flicked a switch to get a visual on Osha in the dual cockpit on the opposite side. She slept for the majority of the trip, mentally exhausted from her ordeal on Brendok. Once they broke away from the planet fleeing directly to his uncharted one using the hyperdrive, she shut down completely. He didn't speak to her or offer words of comfort. She had to eat her pain the way he had to a long, long, time ago. Betrayal was a hell of a thing to endure, but at least she didn't have to make peace with it. He would help her cultivate that pain into power. His hands, that were much older than they looked, finally stopped shaking from the adrenaline rush of securing a lifelong prize.

The moonless sky hid them against the icy black waters of the sea. A sharp whistling of the wind outside produced a soothing Aeolian tone against the protective cockpit canopy. From high above, the Exile II would look like a simple sea-stack on top of more black-gray slabs. The starship blended into the surroundings and they were safe for now. No doubt the Jedi would interrogate Mae and plot to use her to find them. He wasn't worried. His mind-wipe would keep the holier-than thou's scrambling back in the Jedi Grand Temple on Coruscant.

He glanced at Osha's sleeping image. Deep breathing. No eyelids moving with dreams.

The dark force was heavy in her. How many endless decades had he searched for his perfect one? He had traversed across the vastness of space and time, and now that he had her, the real work could begin. Training her to be his other half. He wanted the power of two and Osha would give it to him.

His dick almost got hard thinking of all the damage they would bring to the galaxy. Two orphans tossed away by the Jedi would become the architects of their destruction. He grinned reveling in the pleasure of the thought.

The tide began to turn back joined by the curtain of thick white fog creeping across the horizon. It would swallow the land bridge and them in an icy shroud if he didn't move soon. He shut the starship down completely and climbed out of the left side cockpit. His windswept hair became slightly wet from the spray of saltwater tossing foamy liquid across the rocks. Osha remained in her deep slumber. He carefully made his way to her side and popped open her cockpit canopy using the Force. Holding his right hand outstretched, he focused his power on Osha and lifted her with his mind. She floated like a limp ragdoll high into the air and he guided her down into his arms. He nestled her head gently in the crook of his neck. Her hair smelled like something sugary and sweet he remembered eating as a youngling on Coruscant. The sea already added its brakish scent to the damp locs that tickled his chin. She seemed almost weightless and felt tiny in his arms, but the power within that compact frame pulsed around her aura. He lowered his face to smell her hair once more.

She was his.

He would nurture her mentally back to health first before crafting the proper regimine for her training. Seawater sloshed across his inky black boots. His cape and body heat kept her warm while he marched across the wet rocky bridge toward his hidden abode.

The uncharted planet he lived on was mostly rocky terrain of chained islands with large veins of cortosis in some places that he mined for himself and turned into the metal to craft his helmet and gauntlet. Fortunately there was an abundance of food sources in the ocean and on land with plenty of fresh water to survive. Because it was uncharted, it became a safe pocket of refuge for others who didn't want to be found. Scattered across thousands of miles of archipelago were a few folks of ill repute, but everyone kept to themselves except for those occasions when they visited a rough-hewn set of humans who ran a modest bar/watering hole on the largest landmass on the planet. It was a place to gather intergalactic supplies and Intel discreetly. A place he would have to visit in a day or two.

His home was carved from a large rock mass near the sea. He claimed the abandoned property for himself two decades previous and his Master approved. He found the original owner dead and petrified like wood at the entrance as if it had been dead for centuries. Qimir fixed it up with modern fixtures turning it into a lab of sorts. Solitude and privacy was his and stepping through his front door, the interior lights automatically came on based on his biometrics.

The interior was chilly enough for him to see his breath as puffs of condensation vapor. He carried Osha to his full-sized bed. The top blanket was rumpled but the sheets were clean. He placed her on it and unfastened her boots. Her outer clothing would help keep her warm until he had the cave at a suitable temperature. He fumbled with her body to get her tucked under the covers without waking her. She curled into the fetal position. Pulling the covers over her shoulder he paused to watch her slumber.

Osha had delicate full features and still looked fierce in her sleep. He sat at the edge of the bed and let his eyes take in her relaxed state. She would sleep for a long time once her body fully settled into its new environment. He knew this. It would be a deep down in the bones sleep from shedding the weight of her past. He used his index finger to push back the front of her bangs to see her forehead. She didn't have the spiral pale marking on her forehead that Mae did. His finger lingered on her skin before touching one of her individual locs. Firm, yet soft, it felt like the thick yarn that made the heavy sweaters he wore during winter inside the cave. On his planet it was nearing fall. Luckily, Mae left enough clothing and grooming supplies behind that Osha could use until he went out for full supplies again. He bent down to sniff the scent of her hair once more and she stirred in her sleep. He froze, fearing she would wake up and find him hunched over her like some pervert. Distance. Give her space.

He moved away from the bed and shucked off his damp cape and outer layers, hanging them on a rack near the entrance. Untying his boots he scanned his living space for anything out of order. Scavengers often flew to the planet, but none dared to bother him in that area. At least not yet.

His cave smelled of salt, damp bedrock and sea foam. The tide brought in waves that crashed against the rocks below them. He would sleep pretty well himself once he made a pallet on the floor. First task was to make a fire and he grabbed wood and kindling from the stack against the wall where he prepared his meals. Tangled fishing nets waited for his mending on the floor in the corner. He'd need to fish and collect more food in the morning.

With a good amount of wood stacked next to the deep fire pit surrounded by heavy obsidian sandstone rocks that were great heat conductors, he built a fire . He layered the wood in a pyramid shape first, placing enough tinder at the top to make the fire last all night. Qimir stared at the tinder and it burst into flames. He glanced behind him. Osha still slept. He wondered if she already knew the power of pyrokenesis.

He stood near the fire in the middle of the cave to make sure it burned evenly. Light gray smoke rose up and out of the ventilation he made in the cave's roof. Holding his hands out, he warmed his palms and rotated his neck to knock out stiffness. He reached for some dried fragrant sea moss and tossed it on the fire. The scent of the sea rose up and gave him tranquility in the moment. Clarity.

He peeled off the rest of his clothes until he was naked and distributed them with his outer layers to dry near the fire. There was a chest full of clothing across from his bed in the back and he padded there barefoot on the clean earthen floor to retrieve soft beige trousers that always hung low on his hips. He pulled them on near the bed, keeping his eye on Osha as he tied the drawstrings. She'd rolled over onto her back with her hair in disarray across her cheek. The scent of sea moss finally reached the rear of the cave and so did the slow transfer of heat.

Qimir wandered over to his fresh water supply inside an ancient wooden barrel. He ladled a glass and the refreshing coolness pulled a groan of satisfaction from his throat. Exalted from his journey, he smiled as drops of water fell from his moist lips. He pulled a piece of seasoned jerky meat out from his dry food cabinet and settled on a bench in front of the fire with his front facing Osha. The plans running through his head for her wouldn't let him relax fully by the fire. How could he when the ultimate gift was in front of him? Secure inside a cave no one from her world would find.

"Oh-shaaa," he said softly into the fire.

She moaned in her sleep. He gazed at her form on the bed.

She had to consent to everything he wanted each step of the way. His seduction of her on the island before had been slow and deliberate. It helped that she was already physically attracted to him, but her fragile state would have her questioning every move he made from here on out. He was a master manipulator and could seduce anyone easily; her sister had been proof of that. But Osha? She was a woman who had been deceived to the core of her being. There was no way she would fully trust him even though she accepted his offer to train with him. Physical seduction wouldn't work on her the same way. He had to capture her mind first. It meant he was pushing her to do what he wanted, however nothing would stick unless she said yes to him. And yes to him again, and again…and again.

He steepled his fingers together and held them under his chin. How far could he push her? Would she buckle and run like Mae did? That would anger him. The longer she stayed in close proximity to him, the more potent their connection in the Force would be. Their bond would intertwine and grow stronger over time. He had to admit that it chilled and thrilled him to the bone to watch her burn all of her anger and grief and pure unadulterated rage into the cracked hilt of Sol's lightsaber, bleeding the kyber crystal into crimson fury. Chilled him even more when she force-choked her former Master and father-figure to death. She was sublime. Ripe for the plucking.

Now he had her.

He would mold her.

Teach her.

"Mae!"

Osha's shriek wrenched his eyes away from the crackling heat of the fire. She bolted up from her sleep and glanced around in fear.

"You're okay Osha," he said moving toward her slowly, "you've had a bad dream. You're safe. Mae will be fine."

Fiery eyes took him in and he knelt down next to the bed.

"We're safe on my island. In my home. You need rest…shh…lay back."

Red weepy eyes stared at him with so much anguish. Wracked with sobs, Osha flung herself on the opposite side of the bed and wept into the soft pillows within her grasp. Her entire body convulsed in agony and he couldn't allow her to suffer alone like that.

Qimir crawled onto the bed and spooned around her. She jabbed his chest with her elbow.

"Get away from me! Don't touch me…don't you touch me!"

Her voice cracked and she wailed, still flinging her arm back to cause him pain too. He stayed still and let her release the first wave of pain until she was spent and nearly lost her ability to speak from all the crying.

"You will use this, Osha. There is power in pain—"

"Shut up! Shut your mouth! I don't want to hear anything…I don't want to hear your voice!"

She held her body in a rigid ball and wept for an hour. He simply stayed next to her making sure she didn't hurt herself like he tried to do once. The fire heated the cave up and it appeared to settle Osha into warm comfort. He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. She didn't resist the touch, nor did she scream at him.

"It's not fair," she whimpered, "He took everything away from me and lied to my face for sixteen years. They took away the only people who ever truly loved me and my sister."

Her voice had a despondent tone he had never heard from her before. It sounded like giving up. Qimir wrapped a muscular arm across her waist and snuggled against Osha's back, pouring all of his warmth and strength into her.

"Sleep, Osha. I am here for you. Always. Remember that."

She cried softly through the night and he held her close, listening to her profound despair until she fell back into a pitiful sleep. The icy wind howled outside, but they were warm and cozy together.

He never left her side until the sun rose.

Chapter 4 HERE.

A.N.:

Look at me me posting a day ahead of my Friday Schedule! Enjoy!

#The Acolyte #Oshamir #Star Wars #Oshamir Fanfiction #Uzumaki Rebellion #Qimir #osha aniseya #osha x qimir

41 notes · View notes