#Galaxy Hoop

[post-it-notes7]

I see there's a DMK wanted poster in the corner there! Elaborate perhaps?

Gladly! Thank you for the ask, anon.

DMK is quite a popular figure in the Mirror World, largely thanks to his publicized connections to Dark Mind. Whether that popularity is good or bad however, depends on who you ask.

The Mirror World's Ninja Clan has some history with the Mirror GSA, but more importantly, they know just how much of a status symbol having DMK on their side would be, and they've yet to give up trying. They've approached him in the past seeking to convince him, and when those attempts failed, they resorted to more physical methods.

Thus, DMK's managed to earn himself a bounty (not that anyone has let him know), and the Mir GSA fends off errant kidnapping attempts from the Ninja Clan every few months.

Or to be more precise, Mir Falspar handles them.

[short-wooloo]

If there was a Star Trek version of the acolyte, it would be a show where a character (parroting the words of the director) unironically says "the needs of the one come before the needs of the many"

Oh wait that's just the ahsoka show

[bakaquesauce]

Galatic Hula Hoop!

[sazza1399]

Tove Lo True Romance ❤️

[david-talks-sw]

Ironically, contrary to what most of the angry YouTubers are saying, I think The Acolyte is a story that heavily focuses on lore.

(Well, not really "lore", more like "fanon.")

But my point is, it makes a lot of metatextual commentary about these fanon tropes and lore elements that fans debate about ("are the Jedi truly good? Is the Sith way really so bad if they allow you to feel?") but it completely forgets that all those elements were created in the first place because they were telling a story.

Example: how the Jedi approach emotions.

The Jedi control their emotions. They don't repress them.

They allow themselves to feel them, but they do their best to not let themselves be ruled by them. Sometimes they succeed, sometimes they fail, but they do their best.

This is because wielding the Force is based on emotions... you use it with compassion in your heart, you're on the Good Side, you use it with negativity and selfishness, in search of pleasure, and it leads you to the Dark Side.

This all then ties in to how Luke and Anakin approached the Force, how the former saved the galaxy because of his compassion,after the latter one doomed it because of his greed, etc. It's a metaphor for emotional regulation and teaching kids to be compassionate.

There's a reason this has all been laid out this way.

So when you're making a new story, and your narrative is that:

"The Jedi think they're controlling their emotions, but actually they're just repressing them, and at one point one of them will snap and kill them all..."

Well... no? That's not the story. Because the narrative of the Prequels clearly frames Anakin's selfishness as the cause, and that of the Original Trilogy clearly frames Luke's retreading of his father's path to darkness as a bad thing.

Same goes for:

"Osha frees herself from the shackles of her trauma by killing her father and joining the Dark Side."

Joining the Dark Side is portrayed as a bad thing, it's synonymous with losing yourself, not finding yourself. That's why Episode VI frames Luke not killing his Dad as a good thing.

So... are we just gonna ignore all that?

There's a narrative attached to these points, and you can either reject it or embrace it... but if you don't address it in some way, you're missing the point.

The same way that, if tomorrow I decide to join a soccer game, then pick the ball up and shoot a hoop, I'm missing the point. The ball is being kicked around for a reason, the game is soccer.

The Acolyte focuses on lore and fanon tropes too much... and forgets to even address what the story of Star Wars is.

[blackynsupremacy]

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.

[jerirose]

Rafayel | 12/01/24 Love And Deepspace [3/5]

Digital realism painting of Rafayel from Love and Deepspace. Rafayel is painted from the bust up wearing an open black silk shirt. He's facing off to the left, his purpley-pink eyes looking off in the distance. A soft pink glow lights his left side, turning half of his slighty wavey, purple hair a pinky hue. His cheeks are freckled with a galaxy of tiny glowing stars with opaque purple stars that spread down his neck to his exposed chest, fading to a soft, baby pink. Rafayel has several piercings in his exposed ear all in different vibrant colours; a purple tragus stud, a small hot pink tunnel in his lower lobe and above that two smaller studs, teal and yellow, which are connected by a thin chain to a small red hoop in his cartilage. Around him bubbles float, following the curve of his shoulders and neck and behind him the background is a pattern of moving water.

[thetorturedbuckydepartment]

chapter four: who else decodes you?

pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!reader

summary: Six months ago, you were appointed to be Head Nurse to the Avengers by Tony Stark. Every day, you count your lucky stars, knowing the horrible past you quickly ditched back in England. It holds you back, restrains you, from getting close to anyone when on your new job.

That's until you met and fell in love with Bucky Barnes. The supposed assassin with a heart of gold, who seems to be eager to get to know you. To peel back your layers piece by piece, but could you trust him once you're laid before him raw and vulnerable?

masterlist

PREVIOUS PART -- CHAPTER THREE: IN THE BLINK OF A CRINKLING EYE

warnings: language, self doubt, self deprecation, mentions of Bucky’s past, allusions to sex and masturbation, talks about fatphobia and internalised fatphobia

word count: 3.5k

Taglist: @scott-loki-barnes @cjand10 @blackwidownat2814 @blackbirdwitch22 @laughterafter  @blackhawkfanatic @mcira @bxckybxrnes24 @rachellovesloki @toffeacademia @bean-bean2000

A/N: ALRIGHT we are so back! this was one of my fave chapters to write omg hope u guys like it too -- there's a lot of mixed feelings in this one. as always, please let me know if you want to be added to a taglist and any thoughts by liking / commenting / reblogging! it really makes my day! :)

You quickly run your hands through your hair to tame the flyaways that have magically appeared as you wait for Bucky to open the door. When he does, he leans against the doorframe, eyes taking in your outfit.

“Are you ready to go?” You ask, pointing a thumb behind you and adjusting the maroon purse on your shoulder. Steve’s asked you to come along to drinks tonight at some bar downtown, and you struggled for a few hours with what to wear and ultimately decided on the shirt Bucky had given you the other night while drunk tucked into some comfy flared dark red denim jeans and layered with a loose, translucent shirt in black. Golden hoops adorn your ears, and your favourite necklace (your initial in a swirling golden font) swings from your neck. 

You decided to keep the makeup light, not knowing how shitfaced you’re all going to be getting, and you certainly did not plan to be the designated driver tonight. A cherry red stain adores your lips, and Bucky can’t look away. He is entranced at the way you are wrapped in his favourite colour, wearing his shirt, and smiling like you are a galaxy, and he is a mere enamoured astronomer, eager to explore.

Eager to explore indeed. The curve of your hips and swell of your breasts entice him, and he’s so close to extending a hand and pulling you into him, letting the both of you getting lost to time and space and anything that isn’t the two of you. There is nothing more he wants than to kiss you so hard the red from your lips is the imprint of his, not another product you put on as a part of your pedantic routine. He wants there to be a splash of purple to your attire, on your neck and in places nobody else can see because he feels the feral urge to mark you as his, and he stands there, drowning in his lust. It clings to him like a second skin, sticky and unavoidable, and you, none the wiser, pout to get his attention.

What can he do? He’s eternally curious about you. He wants to know what it feels like to have you on his lap, mouth so close he can taste your kiss and swallow your moans as he makes you feel so good. He wants to know what you sound like, what you look like. Do your eyes roll back or do you flutter them closed? Does your voice drop a few octaves when you inch closer to that high or do you go completely silent, letting the pleasure take over? All he knows is that he might die if he doesn’t get to look into your opal eyes when he comes undone himself, because how is he supposed to resist the goddess of temptation painting herself all over your skin?

And you’re so painfully unaware. 

But alas, he knows why you’re so decked up, and deep down he’s hurt that it’s not for him. You blink at him a couple times, seeing as he’s yet to respond.

God, does he have to look so good tonight? Even in sweatpants? How the fuck am I going to survive being a few shots deep in front of him? You think, your heart speeding up. 

“Hello, Earth to Bucky. Is everything okay?” You tilt your head a little to the side, meeting his bright blue eyes. He shakes out of his stupor and clears his throat, appearing downcast. You can tell the next words out of his mouth are not what either of you want to hear. 

“I’m not going.” He omits certain details of the outing on purpose, knowing Steve’s intentions. In fact, Steve’s been talking his ear off about you ever since you got to know the both of them. He’s sick of it. But he thinks that Steve is a good match for you — an Avenger, a man without a sordid past that haunts him, and certainly nobody on the streets will hug their children tighter to them at the sight of Captain America. He is a hero amongst men, the very antithesis of Bucky. 

He’s never said it out loud to you, because every second he boards that metaphorical train, you always do your best to take him back off it. You always talk him down, telling him he’s just as much of a saviour as anyone else on the Avengers team. He’s just as worthy, but deep down he fears it. The day of the invisible flip switch, when you hear more and more about what he did as the Winter Soldier, and you’ll grow to resent him. Resent the evils he’s birthed on this Earth in the past few decades, his cold-cut cruelty. You always tell him it’s not his fault, that it wasn’t him, not the Bucky standing in front of you right now. But why does he have these memories? These nightmares of ruthlessly killing everything that was deemed an obstacle to the mission drilled into his head. 

So how can he be so selfish, as to deny the sweetest, warmest, kindest woman he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing, a man who truly deserves you? How can he be so selfish as to trap you with all his baggage, making you hold your love over your head in outstanding devotion, all because he craves your touch?

There was a before you, and there is an after you. There is no reconciliation of the two parts of him, there is no going back. But adaptation is essential, and he is a master of it. 

“What? How come? Are you feeling alright, Buck?” You press the back of your hand to his forehead like a super soldier can catch a cold. His skin is warmer than usual, but you somehow miss how he’s blushing because of you. And your touch. 

Bucky could swear up and down that it’s the cure to every fucking ailment in the whole world and every version of it. All it takes is one brush of your skin against his and all his worries disappear. Even as you embark on a date with Steve, for a split second, he could swear it’ll be you and him, one day. Someday. 

Warmth floods his soul when you bite your lip. “You’re running a bit hotter than usual…you sure you’re okay? I can cancel on Steve, I’m pretty sure I only got an invite because of you anyway. We can—“

“No!” Bucky all but shouts, startling you. You retract your hand an inch, wondering if you’ve offended him. “No, I— I’ll be fine. I think my room’s just warm. You go, have fun tonight, okay? I mean it. You work too hard, doll. You need a break every now and then.” You smile, so sweetly Bucky almost feels like he’s about to become a puddle on the floor. 

“Call me, though? And if you’re staying behind I guess I’ll tell you where I’m going. It’s this bar called The Lover, it’s about a ten-minute drive away from here. Just to be safe. But call me if you feel unwell, okay? I come right here, to you.” And that accent. 

Bucky’s never considered him to have a penchant for certain ways of speaking, but your charming English accent has him absolutely feral. He’s never heard his name said like this before, with such an infatuating lilt. He’ll do anything if you ask. Walk to the ends of the Earth, kill everyone you dislike. He’d do it, happily and madly. If you keep saying his name like that. 

Every day, it’s getting harder and harder for him to hide his infatuation with you. Especially when he hears you at night, all by yourself. A low buzzing, a quiet murmur of something he’s certain is his name passes your lips, and he’s fucking losing it. He’s always fucking losing it at night, he’s surprised all he did was sleep that night he got drunk and you were with him. In his bed, right next to him. Chest rising and falling, breaths leaving you so sweetly. He doesn’t remember most of what transpired between you two that night, but he knows it was the best sleep of his life. To hear your heart, to feel the expansion and collapse of your thoracic cavity, it gave him peace, it quietened the nightmares, filling his head with frivolous dreams of you. Running through a field of flowers the colour of your eyes, in a beautiful sundress. Maybe it was a picnic, who knows. All he knows is he wants it. He will get on his hands and knees and beg like a pathetic man for it, to feel that stability and sense again. 

Your hands had been so warm, gripping on tightly to his vibranium arm like it doesn’t bother you. You always do that, after the initial awkwardness between you two had dissipated. You told him that you were nervous, unsure of how he feels about people touching it. You’d asked him. You’ve shown him a level of pride and respect he hasn’t felt from anyone new since the ‘40s — asking for his permission and ridiculous questions like if it’s waterproof.

He’s completely fucked. Utterly, and thoroughly fucked. To your face he simply nods, wrapping you in a hug and then letting you go, rather reluctantly, hands trailing around your waist. He doesn’t miss the effect it has on you, hearing your tiny sharp inhale brings all the life back into his body.

It’s a small, wordless declaration of reciprocity. 

He takes it.

He thinks about it for the next two hours, lying in bed and unable to sleep. What if you need him? What if he’s fast asleep and his nightmares leave him so disoriented that he can’t come to you? He doesn’t know how drunk you are. Maybe Steve’s messily making out with you in the alleyway, hands trailing all over you. Maybe you’re clutching him to you twice as hard, hiking your thigh around his waist and letting him—

A knock on his door jolts him. Friday informs him it’s you, and he jumps out of bed and almost trips on his way to the entrance. You’re here. That means your night doesn’t end with Steve. It doesn’t have to end with him, but you’re not into Steve. Or maybe it was the best two hours of your life, and you’re here to spill all the details to him, because he supposes you two are the best of friends. 

“Hey,” he smiles casually, trying to not let his emotions show. But you seem so confused and lost in thought, that it answers every question, every doubt in his head. 

You may not like him, but you don’t like Steve. 

“Did you know it was a date?” You stare at him straight in the eye, looking one precariously placed sentence away from your heart breaking. Your arms are crossed and your lip stain almost completely gone. But to him, you’ve never looked more beautiful. But he’ll probably think it again, once you’re in your pyjamas. And again tomorrow. 

“Yes. He’s been going on about it for about a week or so, now. He finally plucked up the courage to tell you, to ask you out, I suppose. Did he do anything stupid?” You take another step forward, and another, pushing Bucky back into his room, trying to keep distance. If it closes, he’ll kiss you. He won’t be able to resist, especially not after you just lick your lips to wet them.

“Buck, be honest with me. Was it a bet…or a dare?” You search his eyes, begging for the naked truth, no matter what damage it could do to you. He sees yours fill with tears, and his heart aches in tandem with your own. He’s desperate to rid of you of those horrible feelings, knowing the toxic weeds that spring forth from the seed of misunderstanding. He just has to get to you before the first rain of heartbreak season. 

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous, we’re grown men. We aren’t sitting around making bets on people, especially not so cruelly. If we ever did, I give you full permission to shoot all of us, and rip my other arm off without any anaesthesia. I promise, there was nothing else involved. Steve’s interested, he wanted to ask you out on a date, he did.” You look down and nod, and he wishes you’d meet his eyes again. You’ve grown so confident in doing that, and he’s become addicted. There is a drug called You, and it courses through his veins 24/7. It’s a wonderful, gold rush, but with it comes a maroon pain awaiting to embrace him when the highs fade, in moments like this. When you stand between his warm hands so unsure, as if there’s any place Bucky can fathom being that isn’t here with you.

“Okay. Sorry, I know you guys aren’t like that…but I can never be sure.”

Bucky nods, remembering the horror story that was your first ex-partner, who had only been using you to make them a quick penny. “So what happened? If you’re comfortable sharing, of course.” He pries. He wants to know. Why you’re here, when you could be in Steve’s bed, the both of you lost and entangled in a haze of lust and longing. He wants to know if you’ll admit it, confess like your knee-jerk reaction did to him a few hours ago. The same something bubbles in both of your chests, and even though he knows he shouldn’t do it to you, all he wants is you. All he could ever want is you.

“Well… I got there. I asked where everyone else was, because I was under the impression it was a group thing that I was invited to, because we’re so close. He said it was just the two of us, and it was a bit awkward, but I pushed past it. We talked for a while, and he’s really funny. I laughed loads, I had a couple of drinks. Then at the end of the night, he kissed me.” You stare at Bucky’s lips as you say that last part, because they were the only thing in your mind when it happened. You want to feel his lips on yours, not anyone else’s. That’s one thing that’s been made crystal clear to you. “And it was…strange. He’s not bad at it— I just didn’t expect it, and then I rejected him. Nobody popped out to say it was a prank, though I suspect someone saw us and it’ll probably be all over the internet tomorrow. He was nice about it, and then we both came home. Separately. I’ve just been feeling strange about it, so I came to talk to you. I just wanted to know. Thank you for being honest.” You smile, finally letting your shoulders relax and the breath of agitation leave you.

“You look so pretty tonight,” he all but whispers, brushing a strand of hair back from your face, cupping your cheek.

“How come you never dress up this much when we go anywhere? I’m not complaining, you’re beautiful either way, but it must feel nice.” His thumb strokes against your carefully placed blush and highlighter as you lean into him, faces so close that any distance left burns away at the both of you. Of course, you just assume it’s all one-sided as it often has been in your past, so you keep yourself under tight lock and key. You cannot even begin to imagine the types of feelings he harbours for you, and the way they are a twin flame to your own heart. Even the muscles in your chest are identical, beating away for the other, as if every blood cell that enters and leaves is inscribed with the other’s name. You wouldn’t have it any other way, too swept up in red rose of now to think about the bed of thorns that awaits in the future.

“Well you don’t make me feel like I need to. Not that the others do, but all my life, I’ve just…” You hesitate for a split second, wondering if you should be saying this, but then remember it’s Bucky. The one person you know for sure isn’t going to make you feel stupid for what leaves your mouth. “I’ve always felt that I need to stay performing. Wear makeup, make sure my hair is always neat and styled right, that my clothes are orchestrated and not just the first thing I throw on in the morning, because God forbid people think I’m lazy. Then they’ll think that’s the reason I look the way I am — because I’m lazy and have no desire to change. And then they write me off as disgusting, and nobody likes me. Nobody will bother to understand all my various ailments and limitations, or my genetic makeup that’s made me the way I am. 

“You don’t make me feel like that, like to exist is a performance that I have to put on in front of you. I feel like I can just be, because you understand me. It might sound silly, but it feels like my brain is completely and intricately encrypted, and you’re the only one who knows how to decode me. Plus, you didn’t run away after I told you about the sex scandal I left behind in England, or treat me any different. That’s a bonus. I quite like you, you know.” You smile yet again, after your confession, tilting your head in adoration. And then, you see it. His gaze flicks to your lips, and in that moment, you know. You know that this may not be as one-sided as once thought, that there is someone else who is interested in you, in that romantic way you’ve been conditioned to crave. 

“One more question.” Bucky is fighting for his life to not kiss you, eyes on your lips as you speak, barely processing what you’re truly saying. And how can you deny that? When you’re alone, in your room, with nothing but an ache between your legs and a memory of the one man who truly understands your machinery, you imagine his face lovestruck with desire. And you see it, painted clear as day. There is desire. There is something. 

But you’ve sworn to yourself to never make the first move again, to save yourself unnecessary disappointment and ridicule. If there’s one thing that has been made obvious tonight, it’s the fact that whatever is here, is shared. If it is a fire, he is the match and you are the spark. If it is a magnet, he is the magnetic field and you are the iron. He knows it in your tiny inhale, you know it in his tiny treacherous stare at the parts of your body you would’ve deemed unattractive.

But he must become bolder, and braver. You sense something, but you feel that it may not be something great. You are no stranger to this either, your personality entices and intrigues, but your looks seem to never be able to keep them around. 

You wonder if this will be a short fling, where he looks at you one day and decides you’re better off as just friends. Because after all, you could be the sweetest person on Earth, but that doesn’t change men’s hungry eyes, or their lack of appetite when they pass over you. So, you decide to keep it to yourself. You’ll stoke the small flames, but should not expect a bonfire. You should be realistic. 

Bucky is beautiful. You’re sure several SHIELD agents have their eye on him, and all of them are ten times more gorgeous than you could ever dream to be. So why would he want you? When he could have anyone he wants — why pick you? There’s nothing you could give him that someone prettier couldn’t. You push the negative thought away, pulling yourself back into this conversation you’re having with him. 

Wants and needs can be tended to later. 

You nod, urging him on. “Why don’t you like Steve? He’s, like, the poster boy of the perfect man.” He’s everything I’m not, Bucky thinks. He’s not you, you scream in your head.

Your smile evolves into a shit-eating grin, hellbent on teasing him, and you’re desperate to push the negative thoughts away. Bucky’s affections for you may last a week, but you sure as hell are going to enjoy all of that extra attention, and it seems a ghost of confidence has temporarily possessed you.

You bite your lip before replying.

“I prefer brunettes.”

NEXT PART

[444you]

mean girl makeover 💋 beauty items from the plastics

regina

french tips, initial necklace, cheetah print thong, lash serum, keratin treatment, bombshell makeup, dainty heart tattoo, musc nuar rose perfume, claw clips, light pink scrubs

gretchen

golden hoops, skala hair cream, water, bb cream, lip oil, apple mascara, bodycon dresses, sweet tooth perfume, belly piercing, teal lingerie, anklets, hair skin & nail vitamins

karen

pink sugar perfume, pearl necklaces, lip stain, blush, back dermals, pink bubblegum, flared yoga leggings, platform flip flops

cady

get layers w crazy color, vintage levi jeans, glossier galaxy mask, nude polish, long sleeve tops in every color, rem by ariana grande perfume

[the-writings-of-kaos]

The blessing of a human soul

“Have you ever considered the humans, Second-Wing?”

The two ethereal beings floated gently through the galaxy, though it might be a stretch to call flying thirty to forty times the speed of light to be gentle. The younger being look at his older, trying to remember which semi sentient species his older was referring to.

“Oh yes, the scavengers descended from tree dwelling bipedal-quadrapeds. They were on… Sol-3 correct?”

“That is correct Second-Winged, I visited them recently, I’ve discovered some interesting about their nature. They are like us Second-Winged, though they are also different… they are winged but also flightless, very odd.”

Second-Winged slowed to a stop, entering real space again, while his older sibling stopped next to him. Unlike his older sibling, who was namelessness and had a featureless unblemished orb like form, Second-Winged resembled a hexagonal, yet rounded prism that had no edges but maintained flat uniform surfaces in six ornately patterned faces, with two pairs of wings; one pair was small and protruded from his ‘back’ and the other was large and fanned out, as it protruded from his ‘under belly’ like an enormous rudder to steer in the inky black of space. It still confused him how his nameless older maintained his featureless shape, despite being so much older and more grown than he was; the older siblings lack of features were a clear sign of stunted growth.

“You said the humans were winged yet flightless… are you sure that is what you intended to say?”

“Hmm… is it more accurate to say they are in the process of becoming like us? But seem unable to ascend.”

Second-Winged thought carefully, shifting his wings as he thought. Perhaps he could help his older? If his older was to mature at all, his older would have learn from him, though after all these years it seemed like a hopeless endeavour.

“Very well my older, let's travel to the humans, you can show me what intrigues you so.”

The older’s form began to shift slightly, a pit began to sink from the top of the older’s orb like form. Until it sank all the way through, turning the older into a hoop like ring. With the help of the space bent by his older, second wing slipped through the hoop, coming out the other side in the orbit of human space, his older regaining his orb like shape behind him and closing the self contained wormhole.

Second-Winged eyed the planet, denoting it was a number of varied colours, a nitrogen oxide atmosphere with an oddly distinctive amount of synthetic carbons present in the atmosphere; perhaps the planet had just come out of cold spell. Looking closer he could make up many many humans, but nothing appeared out of place.

“Older sibling, I see nothing off about these mud covered humans. They walk the lands sure, most every place on the planet has a human nearby, but they are only barely attaining ascension, they still rely on the structures of nature to shelter their little forms.”

“Shush Second-Winged, look… there.”

The older sibling’s form shifted slightly as… a large eye took shape on the forward curve of the orb, blinking open as it stared. Somewhat shocked by the odd new feature his older had developed, he looked where his older was staring. He saw a group of humans, building a small ornate shrine next to their small shelter, as Second-Winged began to feel a soft warmth wash over him and his older, as the feelings of a mere humans wishful intentions began to invade his mind.

“What- what did the humans just do?”

He scrambled, trying to shield the… ‘prayers’ from his mind.

“They asked of us their true desires.”

Looking to his older- no, it would be more accurate to call him by his new name, Seraphim, second winged could only watch as his older brother spread his wings, many hundreds of thousands of eyes opening along the many hundreds of rings spinning with his original eye at their over lapping centre. The spread wings began to drop dandruff, as the prayers of tens of thousands of humans were granted. As if a fire fed with a tiny droplet of gas, the soul energy practically erupted from the planet, from the earth, pushing Second brother back slightly, as Seraphim stood still, unfazed.

“Human souls are wonderful brother, they have the power to change.”

Fearing for his life now, and terrified at the seemingly hypnotized words of his brother, he ran, as fast as he possibly could, as any sane ethereal ought to.

“Human souls have the power to change, to change themselves, and others.”

The dauntless Seraphim stood watch, as more ‘Angels’ joined him, they were forever changed by humanity, and likewise forever chained to them.

———

A bit more of a religious idea, the idea that the angels came to us rather than having played part in our creation is interesting to me. This work isn’t a ploy against or for any one religion, even if it goes against whatever you may believe in; it's simply a work of artist freedom to create.

Have a wonderful day! And I’ll see you all another day.

[karlachismylife]

Johnny's dead on the ground.

Correction: Johnny's dying on the ground. Time warps and stretches out, his last seconds dragging for ages long enough for galaxies to be born and die in blindingly white sparkles before his wide open eyes. His limbs grow cold and stiff, akin to pork legs hanging down in smelly rows inside a butcher's freezer - meat that went through a slaughterhouse, his temple stil throbbing after a bolt gun aimed at the fine cattle.

Slaughtered in a blink of an eye, no higher aim or meaning. Simple as that, just a young lamb down.

It burns, this spot, fevereshly hot, something steamy and moist leaking down his cheek and jawline. Feels like a branding iron stuck to his skin, warmth spreading around it through otherwise cooling off body. White pain so bad that hot and cold start to mix up, creating a stagnant, sickly burial shroud of warmth around him - it hovers, but doesn't touch him.

Leaves him without his last consolation.

His chest is compressed, barely able to move for another wheezing breath. A considerable weight pressing down on him, preventing from filling his lungs properly for what may be his last time - steel hoops stacked flush to each other tighten around his ribs. The fire that was burning through his temple finally eats through his flesh to his eyes.

His lashes flutter and he loses sight, stinging white finally replaced with a comfortable black.

Johnny's dead on the ground.

The weight on top of him shifts, relieving some of itself from his chest, and a blow of cool air hits the damp side of his face that was branded by that scorching heat, immediately making his skin prickle. Uncomfortable, Soap scrunches his nose and unwillingly opens his eyes.

There are two yellow feline eyes staring right back at him in front of his mug, and the moment they spot him move, a Cheshire cat smile spreads on the handsome face above, sharp fangs flashing. Something whips at his freezing knee.

"Hey, soldier," coos Karlach in a hushed tone, brushing the tip of her nose along his. "Got ya, eh? You're dead."

"Aye. KIA, bonnie. Ye'll havtae tell mah Mam."

With a sigh, now that the whole mass of a beefy tiefling isn't crushing his ribs, Soap wipes the temple she kissed and left the wetness of her breath on, and drops his wide spread arms in a dramatic gesture - or preparation to make a snow angel. The legs will probably be all fucked up after he got ambushed by Karlach and tumbled into the thick winter crystal blanket with her in a wrestling embrace.

"You'll tell her yourself. Come on, get up, it's your turn!" Karlach snorts, wrinkling her nose in an adorable snicker, and Johnny blinks at her as she rises to her feet with a grunt. There are rogue snowflakes stuck to his eyelashes, and they fracture the light in a way that creates a holy rainbow halo around her devilish horns.

"Hm... nae, Ah'm comfy 'ere." He grins and immediately gets rammed into his side, rolling over with a pained "oomf!" - the push Karlach gives him is softened by the thick winter attire, so Johnny needs to play up the ache. "Och! Did na yin teach ye nae tae kick who's already doon?"

"Get yer arse up, Johnny. Don't want ya freezing yer bollocks off, eh? Gonna need 'em later." Snow seems to forget it's crunchy and squeaky under heavy boots when it's Ghost walking up to them. Before Simon can scruff him, Johnny's already up and shaking wet white chunks off his ass with a huge grin plastered on his face.

"I'm not waiting for you, mate. You're it!" - is all they hear before Karlach turns into a bright red smudge on a snowy slope, her heavy footsteps sinking into the pliant cover on the ground.

"Well?" Simon raises an eyebrow and nods in the direction of the fleeing tiefling. "Your bird's flyin' away."

Good thing he's almost finished with his ciggy, because in the glossy blue eyes Johnny squints against the reflective brightness of the snow reads clear as day - Ghost is getting tagged next.

[jam-showtoonz]

Revived Solar! (My au)

This post also contains lore.

Revived Solar is having a great time!

He just woke up in some weird plain of existence , he’s missing one of his arms and about 20 minutes after waking up he’s attacked by some demented hell beast. Thankfully he is saved by someone who looks like a Sun and Moon combined that isn’t an Eclipse. They act kinda like Lunar just different.

They give him a quick run down on the creature- Voidger it’s called apparently- basically:

This one can’t see. Voidgers can’t smell in general so they don’t need to worry about that.

This one can only hear. Which means they have to get out of there as quietly as possible. Which they lucky manage.

On their way to the ‘ central tower ’ the animatronic introduces themselves as Solstice and explains a bit more about where they are.

The void- it one of the places you can end up if you go through a dis functional portal or your dimension collapses, guess he knows how he got here, the thing that attacked him was a Voidger, a small amount are native to the void- majority though are people, animatronics and/or animals who got lost and were never found- the one that attacked them was a turn one, the way you can tell is apparently the native ones have eyes… many eyes… he hopes he never meets one.

There are apparently ‘ islands ’ around the void with buildings that have a random assortment of objects, no food though as there is no need to eat. The buildings are the only safe spots within the void- unless you can get out or you come across Galaxy.

Eventually they make it to one of these buildings, a tall skyscraper type building. Upon entering they make their way to the 4th floor where they enter a lab kind of place and are greeted by two beings- one is a robot similar to something the creator had- the other, very tall one, looks to be made of stars.

The smaller one, despite the scare they clearly got from the sudden entry, doesn’t question what’s going on, they don’t even seem surprised by him being here, and simply asks if he’d like repaired. He hesitantly accepts the offer as the tall one- Galaxy going by Solstices greeting to them- observes him with their singular eye.

C- he learns the small one goes by -somehow fixes him completely within 30 minutes. They were awfully considerate about asking him what he wanted, colour, shape, any features- despite the fact that they were clearly limited on what they could do.

Galaxy and Solstice had left at some point or another. C offered to answer any questions he had to the best of his ability.

What he learned?

There is a total of 8 beings that live in the void that aren’t Voidgers, that was counting C, Galaxy and Solstice. Though he wasn’t given names.

You turn into a Voidger when you’re alone and lost, as it gives the void access to your mind and you slowly go insane until all rational thought is gone. Despite this if you look or sound similar to someone they knew they will pause before continuing to attack you. Yes, apparently some turned Voidgers have eyes, only two though.

Portal doors aren’t actually hard to find so long as you don’t let the void get to you, the only risk is what’s on the other side. They are also far apart from each other so they take a while to get to. The closest one to them goes to a human dimension.

They can’t stay in a dimension forever because they could weaken it and cause it to collapse. This is because they are completely connected to the void. He should be fine apparently though, as it takes a year for a person to become fully connected to the void and time is very slow in here.

The Voidgers are terrified of Galaxy, apparently their ora has something to do with it.

They are more than willing to help him get home as the void is not a place for everyone.

C hates to talk about themself and is more focused on making sure the others here don’t get themselves killed.

Queue someone with 2 hoops around their head and waist with stars on them, as well as a skirt coming in and yelling about how someone called Blue and- Lunar?- just blew up a toaster on one of the paths to scare a Voidger. C let out a long annoyed sigh before telling him to stay in the lab and say they need to go deal with their kid and the youngest in this found family.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he’s lucky or not.

[Yes I’m posting Ruin separately as lore- Solar is gonna have a great time.]

[wichwitchisit-blog]

I will forever stand by how DreadWing should have been the one to get the late redemption.

First of all he is the only one in transformers prime whose death didn’t benefit the narrative in some way. CliffJumpers death served as a catalyst for most of the shows events happening, for the Autobots meeting the human cast, for the Autobots learning of what dark energon is, and for Arcee’s character development. SkyQuake died not only for the Shadow Zone being found but also for DreadWing being in the show at all. It was his death that caused his spark twin to fly halfway across the galaxy to confirm that his twin did infact die. Breakdowns death lead to Synthetic Energon being completed through many hoops including the episode Thirst which wouldn’t have happened if BreakDown didn’t die.

DreadWings death never served the narrative. He was never even mentioned after he died. The last major impact DreadWing made for the narrative was something he did before he died and that was give The Forge to Optimus. There is no narrative reason he should have died. If he lived no major plot point wouldn’t have changed.

I will say however that it was in his character to try and kill StarScream as revenge. No amount of talking to could have changed his mind on not doing that.

However I’m going to counter and say that his plans could have been delayed. Optimus couldn’t have convinced DreadWing to join him but what if Optimus convinced DreadWing to just stop and think for a minute so he can plan this out, not do anything brash or anything he’ll regret. To carry out this assassination logically and after everyone is done trying to revive Cybertron.

Have him be like Predaking in Predacon rising where he does not side with AutoBot or Decepticon for their crimes against his kind but he is really pissed off at the Decepticons so for now he works with the AutoBots.

Maybe he saw the Decepticons attacking the base and decided to go shoot at them like WheelJack did. Maybe they got captured together. Maybe WheelJack put aside their differences and helped DreadWing escape because the Autobots need all the help they can get after their base got nuked. Maybe DreadWing goes on his own from there but comes back to take down the Decepticons at the end. Maybe he joins the Predacons because they too have been wronged by Decepticons. Maybe this maybe that. I just want him to live that’s all. It’s not really a redemption but always he’s not dead. Maybe they could work on his morality.

Maybe he takes that break and realizes that he shouldnt do revenge because that won’t even make him feel better about SkyQuake. Maybe then he truely integrated into the Autobots.

Anyways DreadWing deserved to live

[palmtreepwr]

rappa's design would've eaten so hard if they went for a more jet set radio vibe than vtuber who averages 4k views a stream. im sorry but the potential of a cybercore, y2k, galaxy ranger that is a bit of a weirdo was sooo promising but they slam dunked that shit into the milky way and not the hoop

[thisuserislilsilly]

Summary: The call of a Primarch is not an easy thing to dismiss, from the farthest reaches of the galaxy, Neran will be heard

Genre: Action/drama/thriller

Pairing: None (reunion of Painless Mutes)

TW: Foul language, blood, gore, long monologue, cringe alert bcs of that (?)

Goblin tag squad: @cardinalcanis @finchly-tintinnabulation @artemisareia

@echo-of-damnation @meervalv0 @jaghatai-khock

@druidwolf21

And then, there was sound

It was time. Neran returned to the place he once called home and strolled slowly through the hallways, his eyes looking at the empty dusty tables, the empty pods with their humming lights, the candles lightening the rooms where there was no electricity, the barracks and long forgotten training fields. Everything was ready, everything was just how they had left it when they had to forcefully abandon a lifetime of plans, of machinations and schemes for hiding in plain sight, for rejecting what they were and be ripped from the history of Mankind.

Nevermore.

-------------------------------------------------------

Lundez never felt safe doing these kinds of jobs, delivering packages on Necromunda was one thing, delivering people from one planet to the other was a completely different thing entirely. So far it had gone smoothly, the group had kept their cool and had obeyed what the woman had said without any doubt; hiding whenever a searchlight was upon them, keeping quiet as they approached populated areas, letting her do the talking to their employers and the intermediaries they used, it was turning out to be one of those uneventful journeys which only would be remembered by how slow the pace had been.

There was certain weirdness, though, that Lundez couldn't exactly pinpoint about the whole group; despite paying to be transported all at once, none of those hundred folk seemed to like each other or even know one another, never speaking between them, only letting a few robed individuals do the talking and telling them what to do, they hid their faces behind facial masks that were supposedly used because of a strange deformity and none seemed to speak Low Gothic, only a butchered version of the local slang which at times proved to be cumbersome to communicate. As a whole they wished to be called "Heralds of the Times" and nothing else, no particular names to distinguish individuals from the group or any distinctive features that could split the group.

The world they had chosen to be transported to had more of those unsettling implications if Lundez had stopped to think about it, A2-4 also known as "Alfur" had been a death world since the times of the Great Crusade; the surface of the planet was cold, with winds so strong no construction could be built in the entire planet, so far away from the sun in the center of the system scientist were still arguing about how any lifeform could've possibly lived there. Now these lunatic freaks wanted to travel there from Necromunda, six sectors away from it, a trip so big and large the tides of the Warp didn't even connect the two systems; forcing the Navigators to jump through space hoops and taking detours just to be in range of it. When faced with the choice of picking any other system and planet to be their final destination, the group had turned rude and for the first time he saw frowns in the faces of the otherwise ever neutral Heralds faces, "We must go there, it is not a choice, it is a call" was all of what they answered about the subject, any attempts to bring the topic up again was replied with the same phrase like it had been practiced specifically to be used in those situations; odd, so very odd folks.

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The vox-caster sprung to life once again, the circuits of old whirring the long disconnected connections through the crude fixes the demigod had designed. As the static disturbed the quiet around, Neran got away from the device, sighed and began to speak in a slow and calm tone.

"I remember my father watching over me, seeking for what could've become of his son after so much lost time between us, would I have developed new abilities like Magnus? Would I reveal to him a hidden empire like Roboute at the time of his discovery? Would I hate him, like Angron and so many others had done? I felt his gaze upon me, inquisitive, analyzing the very core of my heart. I remember I smiled to him, consciously, mentally ordering the muscles on my face to do the motion after understanding it's meaning by seeing people do so to others.

It horrified him, not in a disgusting way one would see the fear of the unknown, it was the fear of the familiar, of the reflection of the darkest thoughts of one mind. He stood up and a tear began to roll down his cheek, the Emperor then spoke of the purpose of my creation, of why I was this way; he spoke of a unimaginable threat that would plague the galaxy, that already spread across the stars as Humanity rekindled old connections and outposts and that I, with Magnus, had been the primary responses to it, the ones that would defend humanity from the immaterial as our brothers defended the material realm..."

Neran voice shook slightly; he coughed to correct his mind, to control the impulses; then with a pause of a minute, he continued speaking.

"I wanted to believe that, to this day when I remember that meeting I wish I had been naive, easily manipulated by him...but what had happened in the planet that saw me grow had hardened my heart, it had made me the...odd Primarch my sons have known me as. I saw the lie through the Emperor speech, I saw how he mentally suggested himself to be...sad, to show regret and remorse in his goal of moving my own heart, to open myself up to him and pledge my alliance to him. I could not, it wasn't because of the lies nor because I don't believe that His cause in favor of Humanity isn't laudable; it is because he did not made me as a resourceful asset to explode; I was the flaw, the experiment that instead of offering the Emperor a true "Blank" to use against the Daemons of the Warp, he created a Blank human being, stripped away of the human connections that tie our race to one another and allow mistakes to happen and sins to endure generations; Lorgar committed the sin of worshipping our Father, the Imperium followed his footsteps with the Imperial cult. Cycles, cycles that my creation broke.

As he saw I was not going to be convinced with words, the Emperor left the room; he left me alone with my thoughts and my loneliness. I sat there, looking at the void, the emptiness I had inside myself, the nothing that was my existence and pondered. I saw how I could help him, how I could be his agent and do his will without the strings attached that he would have put on me and how I could serve the Imperium. The firstborn sons were already in my hands, given as an army for me to lead, a gift from the Emperor in exchange of a pact of fealty that I would later break; I saw the chance, the opening that allowed me to make things right.

I did not create my legion, the Emperor did, with his genetic blueprint, his mind and his soul. I could not be a father to them, I could not teach them the lessons they needed; all I could do was command them and use their skills, I knew that if the Emperor had designed them with such efficiency, then I was supposed to use them as he had intended. But then, I refused, I was the first heretic, the one who did not do as he was told. I cared for them, taught them how to be silent yet I never showed my face, I was a figure, a shadow and nothing else.

But I was a better father than the Emperor have been for me, even if my face was shrouded and just the veterans could see my semblance; I cared for them, I protected them. The Emperor saw this, saw how I had begun to love my children as a father would do and sought to take them away from me. I refused, and this time, not as a heretic, but as a loving son, a loving father. I saw my Father's lies and manipulations, he had used his sons as pawns to play and conquer a galaxy, his selfishness and lust for power was the very bane of our existence, of the Empire he was creating. Then Russ came, his Wolves backed up by the accusations of my heart growing cold to Mankind, to the "misuse" of the assets that were given to me; he saw my sons that way, as pawns, I embraced our failures of our incapacity to feel pain, the Emperor saw it as a mistake, an aberration to be corrected. The Wolves attacked, I defended, we were not prepared for the betrayal of our brothers, for the first time in my life, the feeling of betrayal filled my heart. I was angry, hurt, saddened and betrayed; the Wolves, the sons of Russ had no idea what had done to me, to them. I felt, at that moment, the first emotion of my entire life. It was the most beautiful experience I had ever lived, a revelation, a wonder, a joy that was worth the years spent as a soulless vessel.

Then, it was a massacre."

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The ship trembled with a sudden stop, the inertial dampeners could barely handle the impact, the crew were tossed around, the lights died, the emergency alarms sprung to life and the red lights illuminated the corridors.

"All hands report in!" Lundez heard the commotion outside, seeing the giant void in the middle of the star system they had just arrived in "All hands present, no damage!" "Sensors are off-line! We can't see anything!" "We lost engines, they were knocked out, no power at all!" "We have to land on the surface, the only option we have is to…" "We are here" The voice of one of the robed individuals interrupted the chaos "What in the Emperor's name are you talking about!?!? Get your people to brace for impact before-!" "Our pilgrimage…is at it's end…"

Lunes looked the robbed figure up and down, they were crazier than she initially thought, there was no way the ship would land on the surface, let alone find a safe enough landing point without the sensors. The world they were going to land on didn't even have any kind of settlement, a barren world with nothing of interest, no minerals, no resources, nothing of value; it was a dead world, the congregation had brought them to a soulless end of the galaxy. "No, no, we are not doing any kind of-"

Then something crashed against the ship. Lundez saw total darkness and then…nothing at all.

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"…They had no idea of what was going on, my Father was trying to stop me, using his Wolves to kill my children, to rip away from me what he had given me. He could've stopped them, killed them and destroy them all. I embraced my sons, then had to make this painful sacrifice; to depart from them, to spread our legion through the stars and His dominion so we wouldn't be destroyed, so we could one day unite as a whole and take back what had been stolen from us. Now the Imperium is again in need for us, when the spirits have been in turmoil for too long, when Humanity war against itself has split it into a million pieces easily picked apart by the Xeno and the heretic we must rise again, we must show ourselves again to lead the Imperium and Humanity to a new age. Let us come, then, as a family again. I call to you all, my sons, I beckon to the stars my love, my longing for all the centuries we have been apart; come back to me, embrace me again as we were meant to. For this time, no force in the galaxy will separate us, no one will steal our future again and no one will deny us our destiny.

Let the Mutes speak again, let the Painless feel anguish once more. My Legion, come to me, my Children, answer my call, it is time."

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The darkness around her was not as eternal as she had previously thought, she was still alive, the ship was intact, the lights were still on and she was still one of the quarters. She heard the voices outside, the roars of the engines coming back to life and the sounds of the crew running across the corridors, everything was fine. Nothing made sense anymore, it felt as a dream, a bad trip or maybe the result of drinking too much amasec before going to bed; the journey, the ship, the people she had transported, everything was a blur, a memory that didn't fit right. Then the ship trembled, something hit it and the darkness returned for an instance, then all went back to normal as if nothing had happened.

"The time is now, Lundez" The voice whispered behind her, the same voice that had to try and calm her down when the ship was going to crash.

She saw the stranger smiling, a wicked smile that didn't look right, his eyes were not looking at her, but behind her. Lundez turned and saw the black, endless space filled with the glittering light of the stars and a grey, tall figure watching them bot with piercing black eyes. An Astartes with no insignia, no colors, no distinctive features of a Chapter or a legion. A blank slate. Only then did Lundez noticed what had happened. "It…was a ship…and we didn't crash…we were just…picked up" The smuggler slowly connected the dots in her head as she looked around; there was chatter over a thousand Vox-casters, all reporting of advances and reunion places on the barren planet that had caused her ship to go silent. She weakly stood up, coursing through the strange giant ship, robed individuals went from place to place attending data ports or assisting other Astartes with the same characteristics as the one she had seen before. Over half an hour she wandered through the maze of a ship until she found some empty human quarters, with her head spinning and her chest surprisingly light, the dreams of that long rest showed nothing but a pale giant holding her hand as they walked a path so beautiful Lundez knew it had been pulled straight from her imagination.

The sound of the ship loudly shaking and settling in place, coupled by the chatter of the robed strangers descending from their transport brought her back from her trance; the voice of the Astartes, the leader of this strange group, was transmitted through the vox-casters. It was oddly soothing, calm, inexpressive. Lundez covered her eyes as the triplets suns of the system flashed their lights right at her face. In a nearby little hill Lundez saw him, the pale giant of her dreams, placing a hand on the head of the Astartes and with the other "blessing" the robed figures kneeling before him. She walked towards the scene, like hypnotized by the unique and foreign custom, when a single question formed on her lips as she approached the giant.

"Who are you?" Lundez asked, fearing the answer. "We are the Mutes, we are the Blanks" Neran answered "I am Neran Solticence and this is the beginning of a new era for Mankind. Thank you for having brought my children to me, miss Lundez" "You…you know my name?" She spoke with her jaw dropping in awe "You dreamed of me when you met my sons, did you not?" Neran smiled At that moment, Lundez felt nothing more than pure bliss, any other emotion, worry, thought, distraction her mind could had come up with faded away. She knelt just like the others and professed her wish to join the Heralds of Time. Neran flock grew, and the Hollowgrace saw that it was good.

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

Galaxie 500 - The Commonwealth School, Boston, Massachusetts, April 21, 1989

Some good news for a change. Silver Current (the label helmed by Ethan Miller that's been doing stellar archival work with Sonic Youth recently) is putting out Uncollected Noise New York ’88​-​’​90, a double-LP comp of rare-ish/unreleased material by Galaxie 500. Some of it will be familiar to G-500 heads, some of it may not be! Anyway, this is a band that falls into the "I want to hear every note they ever recorded" category, so I'm into it obviously.

I'm also into this classic video of Naomi, Damon and Dean playing an unusual school gym gig in the Back Bay. There are a few example of what I like to call "basketball hoop performances" out there — there's this 1969 Velvet Underground show in Baltimore, there's the famed Philly Fugazi moment. Disappointingly, Dean doesn't hang upside down from the hoop like Guy Picciotto while playing for the kids, but nevertheless! The Commonwealth School set is a very very nice capture of Galaxie 500 in the On Fire era — the peak! Sing along now: "I don't wanna vote for your president ..."