#and i can't find the energy to talk to them

[lucinedoodles]

Xiu Ying "de Riva" x Lucanis Dellamorte

Quick background on Xiu Ying- she's an OC I use for video games and is basically a foreigner in the land of Thedas, banished there for abusing her powers as a minor deity in her own world. She is a fox spirit and before the events of Inquisition, she saved a few Dalish children from a demon. In doing so, she used up too much magical/life energy and ended up reverting back into the form of a baby fox. A baby fox is how she stayed throughout the events of the Inquisition, chilling out in Inquisitor Lavellan's pocket.

Xiu Ying realised she was falling in love when Lucanis described a first kiss as honey and lavender cream- the same drink her Dalish clan used the feed her when she was a very young fox kit.

It may have been love at first sight for Lucanis. Let's face it, the man has been imprisoned for a year and Rook was the first friendly face he saw AND she was busting him out of there? But he was wary of her and her intentions since she's a famous Courtesan who has a history of charming important people.

The whole Lighthouse been knew. They were taking bets and Davrin was getting pretty sick of the will they, won't they. They get together officially after Caterina was saved.

Sort of? She's not really an Antivan Crow. She was a useful agent for them and Viago handed her the emergency adoption papers after an incident where the Antivan King was offended when she spurned his advances. She may or may not have orchestrated that incident, knowing Viago would step in to help her. Xiu Ying likes the Crows as individuals but isn't very impressed by them as a faction. Too much backstabbing and idealism with the way they gloss over the horrific nature of their training and lifestyle.

Xiu Ying pretends to be Dalish, she takes on the appearance of a Dalish elf and observes their practices when convenient. She's a social chameleon and will do whatever it takes to fit in. She does teach Lucanis some of the recipes she remembers from Clan Lavellan though.

She's admitted to him that when she's around someone, she will always become the kind of person they would like. She no longer knows who she is when she takes the mask off. So Lucanis starts helping her find her own interest again, teaching her to cook and joining Bellara's book club and etc.

For a courtesan, Xiu Ying is surprisingly chaste with her affections. A kiss on the cheek and maybe holding his hand when they're out in public. In private, she's always careful to make sure Lucanis is comfortable with whatever happens.

A romantic dinner for two (and Spite), with candles and peonies, ending with a warm cup of cream with honey and lavender for her and a cup of coffee for him.

Xiu Ying doesn't take Lucanis any more than the others. Mostly because, she likes coming back to the Lighthouse and making a beeline for the kitchen for a freshly made snack. She's also as free flowing with praise for Lucanis in battle as he is for her.

He calls her "my love" and she calls him "vhenan" (illario calls her "cara" but we don't talk about him)

Getting either of them to say it is like pulling teeth but Xiu Ying blurts it out after she was pulled out of the Regret Prison.

So many. Mostly directed at Illario and Viago.

Honestly can't think of any atm lol

She got him a miniature wyvern. She had an Orlesian client who was trying to breed mini wyverns as pets and he may have lost a leg and an eye, but he did it.

Panic and fear. One moment they were victorious and the next, Rook is gone and no one can find her. She's in the Fade and may never be seen again.

Mildly annoyed. She's confident she can find her way out but she already hated Solas for dating and then dumping her adoptive sister. She would have been more stressed had she known how much time was passing in the real world.

The fact that despite everything that has happened to him, Lucanis is still capable of caring and looking after those around him. He loves her because of how much she cares for those around her and how fiercely she's willing to protect them. She waged war against Solas to protect her adoptive sister, she nearly ripped Ghilan'nain apart for attacking Harding and she tore through Blight and Death when she saw Bellara was still alive.

They visit Clan Lavellan, secretly elope while they're there and write to Viago and Teia that they're not coming back to Antiva before fuckin off to go watch wild wyverns.

Questions for your Rook and their partner:

Does your Rook fall for their partner at first sight? If not, what moment made your Rook realize they're in love with them?

When does the partner realize that they're in love with Rook?

How long does it take for them to officially get together? Did any of the other Lighthouse members have any suspicions beforehand?

Do your Rook and their partner share the same faction? If so, does that affect their relationship at all? If not, what is your Rook's opinion of their partner's faction? What is the partner's opinion of Rook's faction?

Do they have different cultural backgrounds (e.g. a Rook who was raised in Antiva with Harding who was raised in Ferelden)? If so, do they ever share parts of their culture with each other? If they're similar, how do they celebrate their culture together?

What is their favorite thing to do together? Do they share any hobbies? Does your Rook teach their partner their own hobbies? Does the partner teach Rook theirs?

Are they a physically affectionate couple? Are they fine displaying those affections in public or do they prefer to be in private? If they're not, how do they prefer to show their love instead?

What does their ideal date look like? Do they go on much?

Does your Rook bring them out often? How are they like on the battlefield? Do they banter much?

Do they have any nicknames for each other? Who uses terms of endearment more?

Who says "I love you" first? What is the other's reaction? Who thinks it first?

Any inside jokes?

What song(s) do you associate with them?

Does your Rook get their partner any other gifts (besides the one already in-game)? Does the partner get Rook any? Any gifts that are particularly special?

What was the partner's reaction to Rook being imprisoned in the Fade? How did they cope? How did they react upon seeing Rook again?

How did your Rook react to getting trapped in the Fade and separated from their partner?

What is your Rook's favorite thing about their partner? What is the partner's favorite thing about Rook?

When all is said and done, where would they like to retire together? Is marriage in the cards for them? Children? Pets?

[goblin-jr]

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

pairing: clark x reader

summary: y/n gets blasted with meteor shards, clark (literally) can't get any closer to save her.

words: 4.4k

a/n: i am so glad the tom welling renaissance is upon us

💌 💌 💌 💌

The Torch office buzzed with the usual energy of an afternoon at Smallville High. Stacks of old newspapers were piled against the walls, the smell of fresh ink lingering in the air. Chloe, seated at her desk, tapped away at her keyboard with practiced ease, while Pete leaned back in his chair, flipping through the latest addition to the infamous Wall of Weird.

“So, let me get this straight,” Pete said, shaking his head. “This guy gets struck by lightning, falls into a coma for three months, wakes up, and now he can hear people’s thoughts?”

Chloe grinned, pushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Smallville never fails to deliver. I’d say it’s a classic case of meteor freak syndrome.”

Clark Kent, leaning against the desk with his arms crossed, smirked. “And you’re sure he’s not just really good at guessing?”

Before Chloe could respond, the door to The Torch office swung open, and Y/N strolled in, a bright smile on their face. “Talking about the latest addition to the Wall of Weird without me? Rude.”

Pete grinned. “You know us, always knee-deep in the strange and unusual.”

Chloe gestured to the board dramatically. “It’s a gift.”

Y/N chuckled, walking over to take a look at the latest entry. “Mind reading, huh? Sounds like the plot of a bad teen drama.”

Clark chuckled along with them, but there was a softness in his gaze as he watched Y/N. They caught his eye, and for a fleeting moment, the air between them changed. It wasn’t obvious, nothing overt, but there was something there—an unspoken awareness, a hesitation that hinted at something deeper.

Pete, ever the instigator, leaned forward with a knowing smirk. “You guys ever notice how Clark always smiles the most when Y/N’s around?”

Chloe turned from her computer screen with an amused look. “Oh, definitely. It’s like clockwork.”

Clark, instead of getting flustered, simply shrugged, his smirk growing. “Can you blame me?”

Y/N rolled their eyes but couldn’t help the small smile playing on their lips. “You guys are hilarious.”

Pete wiggled his eyebrows. “We try.”

Chloe, sensing an opportunity to move things along before Clark turned into a full-blown tomato, clapped her hands together. “Anyway! Y/N, do you still want to check out that crime scene after school? I heard from my contact at the police station that something weird went down.”

Y/N perked up, curiosity lighting their expression. “Oh, absolutely. I live for ‘something weird.’”

Clark frowned slightly. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Chloe smirked. “Relax, Boy Scout. It’s just a little investigative journalism.”

The school bell rang, signaling the end of their free period. Clark took the opportunity, straightening up and turning to Y/N. “I can walk you to class.”

Y/N tilted their head, amused. “Oh? You don’t think I can find my way on my own?”

Clark shrugged, his signature shy smile appearing. “I just figured, you know, since we’re headed in the same direction…”

Pete let out an exaggerated sigh. “Man, just admit it already.”

Clark shot him a look before turning back to Y/N, who only laughed before nodding. “Lead the way, Kent.”

As they walked out of The Torch office together, Chloe and Pete exchanged a victorious glance. Some things, after all, didn’t require a meteor freak’s mind-reading abilities to see.

–

Y/N’s phone buzzed against her palm just as she was about to leave for The Torch. She glanced down at the screen. Chloe: Crisis with tomorrow’s edition. Gotta reschedule crime scene sneak-around. Sorry!

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes fondly. She should’ve known Chloe would get caught up in some last-minute journalistic emergency. Still, that left her with an entire evening free. She bit her lip, debating for a second before pulling up Clark’s contact and hitting call.

It barely rang once before his voice came through, warm and easy. “Hey, Y/N. What’s up?”

“You busy?” she asked, already guessing the answer.

“Little bit,” Clark admitted. “Dad’s got me helping with some stuff on the farm. What’s up?”

Y/N shifted on her feet. “Well, since Chloe bailed, I figured I’d see if you wanted to hang out.”

There was a pause, then the sound of Clark exhaling like he hated saying no. “I want to, but I can’t get away just yet. How about we meet up later?”

She smiled at that, picturing him running a hand through his hair like he always did when he was torn between responsibilities and spending time with her. “Alright, Boy Scout. Later it is.”

Clark chuckled. “Boy Scout, huh?”

“You tell me, Kent. Are you wearing plaid right now?”

A beat of silence. “...Maybe.”

Y/N laughed. “Then the nickname stays. See you later.”

After hanging up, she stared at the screen for a moment. She could just stay home, wait for Clark to be free. Or… she could go check out the crime scene on her own.

Her curiosity won out.

–

The scene was a burned-out husk of what used to be an old auto shop on the outskirts of Smallville. Police tape crisscrossed the entrance, but it was quiet now, no officers in sight. Perfect.

Y/N ducked under the tape, stepping carefully over loose debris. The air smelled of scorched metal and something chemical, and every shadow seemed to stretch just a little too long. She ignored the shiver crawling up her spine and pressed forward.

At first glance, it just looked like a regular fire. But something didn’t sit right. She crouched near the remains of a shattered workbench, running her fingers over the charred edges. The burn patterns were strange, too precise.

Then she saw it.

Amongst the rubble, half-buried under twisted metal, was something glowing. Faintly.

Y/N’s heart pounded as she reached for it. The light pulsed, a deep green, refined and sharp. Meteor rock.

Smallville was no stranger to these things, but this one was different. More polished, more concentrated than the fragments that littered the town. As soon as her fingers brushed its surface, a jolt of energy shot through her arm, like static electricity but deeper, crackling beneath her skin.

The floor creaked behind her.

She whirled, but before she could react, a loud boom erupted from somewhere in the back of the shop. A shockwave tore through the air, sending her flying. The world blurred—fire, debris, heat—before she hit the ground hard, her vision flickering.

Her skin burned. Not from the fire, but from inside. Like something was crawling through her veins.

Then—darkness.

–

Each breath burned.

Y/N’s limbs felt like they were moving through molasses, her muscles aching with every step forward. The night air was crisp against her damp skin, but it did nothing to cool the feverish heat lingering beneath the surface. The burning in her veins had faded, but in its place was something almost worse—a weight, a fog thick enough to make her thoughts sluggish, her vision swim.

She needed help.

Clark’s farm was closest. If she could just get there…

Each step forward was a battle. Her legs wobbled beneath her, her muscles aching like she’d run a marathon, but she pushed forward. The flickering glow of Smallville’s streetlights faded behind her as she stumbled onto the dirt road leading to the Kent farm.

It was quiet except for the steady rhythm of crickets in the distance and the occasional hoot of an owl. The peacefulness of the countryside stood in stark contrast to the chaos surging inside her.

Her hands trembled. She flexed her fingers, watching the way her skin seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light. The effect was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. Something inside her had changed.

Two miles.

It felt like an eternity.

By the time she reached the weathered red barn, her vision was swimming. The soft glow from the house in the distance was warm, inviting. She could go straight there.

But she didn’t.

Her body moved on instinct, guiding her toward the barn instead—toward Clark.

The large doors creaked as she pushed them open, the scent of hay and earth filling her senses. The loft seemed impossibly far away, the stairs an obstacle she barely had the strength to conquer, but she climbed.

She gritted her teeth, gripping the wooden railing as she pulled herself up, each step more taxing than the last.

One more.

Another.

Her arms gave out just as she reached the top, her knees hitting the floorboards with a dull thud.

The loft was quiet, moonlight filtering in through the windows, casting long shadows over the worn-out couch and the wooden floorboards. Clark sat near the edge, a book in hand, his flannel sleeves rolled up as he flipped absently through the pages.

At the sound of her collapse, his head snapped up.

“Y/N?” His brows furrowed in concern as he tossed the book aside and stood. “What—”

She reached for him.

Something inside her screamed for comfort, for stability, for him.

“Clark,” she choked out, her voice weak. “Something’s wrong.”

She expected him to rush forward like he always did. To scoop her up in his arms without hesitation, to be the rock she could lean on. But instead—

He stumbled back.

His face contorted in pain, his breath hitching sharply as he clutched his chest.

“No,” he gritted out, shaking his head. “I—I can’t—”

Confusion twisted inside her, layering over the dizziness already clouding her mind. “What…?”

She tried to move closer, but he staggered back even further, his body curling inward like he was sick.

Y/N froze, horror creeping in.

“What’s happening?” Her voice cracked. “Clark, what’s wrong?”

He gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into the wood of the railing behind him like he needed something to hold himself up. His breathing was ragged, his normally strong posture trembling beneath some unseen force.

“It’s you,” he rasped, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s—whatever happened to you. I can’t be near it.”

Her stomach dropped.

She looked down at herself, at her hands, her arms—she wasn’t glowing anymore, wasn’t burning. She felt off, but she wasn’t—

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, voice barely above a breath.

Clark swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His eyes were pained, conflicted. “Y/N… I need you to listen to me.” He winced again, pressing a hand to his chest. “You need to go inside. My parents—they’ll explain everything.”

She didn’t move.

None of this made sense.

Clark—the person who had always made her feel safest, the one who had been there through everything—was afraid to come near her.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, a mix of fear and frustration bubbling up in her throat. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

Clark clenched his jaw.

“You’re hurting,” she pushed. “Because of me? How? Why?”

His lips pressed into a tight line, his breath coming faster.

“I can’t tell you,” he admitted, voice breaking slightly. “Not yet.”

Her stomach twisted.

Clark had secrets. She knew that. There had always been moments when he was just a little too fast, a little too strong, moments where things didn’t quite add up. Once upon a time, Clark had told her one of the things he liked about her was that she didn’t pry the way his other friends did. That she was content with secrets.

But now, standing here, this was different.

This was a wall between them.

And she didn’t know how to tear it down.

Her body swayed slightly, exhaustion sinking deep into her bones. She was too drained to argue, too overwhelmed to think.

“Please,” Clark tried again, his voice softer, pleading. “Just go inside. Let my parents help.”

She swallowed hard.

Her head was still clouded, her limbs still aching. If she pushed too much, she’d collapse again, and Clark—he couldn’t even catch her if she did.

That thought alone sent a pang through her chest.

So she took a breath.

And she nodded.

Without another word, she turned on shaky legs and made her way toward the ladder, gripping the rungs harder than she needed to. Each step downward felt heavier, the weight of uncertainty pressing against her shoulders.

–

Clark followed Y/N at a careful distance, unable to approach too close for fear of hurting her. The last thing he wanted was to make things worse, but he couldn’t help but feel helpless as he trailed behind her. The Kent farm seemed so peaceful from a distance, but up close, it always had a strange, intense energy, especially now.

Y/N stumbled toward the house, gasping for air. Every step seemed to cause her more pain, but she kept moving, trying to hold herself together. When she reached the door, she almost collapsed, but with great effort, she pushed it open.

Inside, Clark’s parents were in the kitchen, talking in hushed tones, as they usually did in the early evening. They hadn’t noticed yet, but Martha’s sharp eyes caught the way Clark’s face had changed the moment he stepped through the door.

“Clark?” Martha asked, noticing the strain in his expression. She stood quickly, wiping her hands on her apron. “What’s wrong?”

Clark couldn’t look at her. His eyes were still fixed on Y/N, who had collapsed into a chair by the door. The air around her seemed thick, almost suffocating. Martha immediately noticed the way Y/N was shaking, her breath shallow and erratic.

“Clark?” Martha repeated, more urgently this time.

Clark finally forced himself to look away from Y/N. “The meteor rocks,” he said, his voice tight. “They’re in her bloodstream. It’s the only explanation.”

Martha’s heart sank, her face paling as she glanced from Clark to Y/N.

“I can’t believe this is happening again,” Jonathan muttered as he entered the room. He had been out in the barn but now stood beside his wife, eyeing Y/N. “The last two people this happened to... they died.”

Y/N’s body jerked, her arms wrapped around her midsection as if trying to hold herself together, but it was no use. The pain was overwhelming, and she could barely catch her breath.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Clark asked, stepping closer, but he stopped himself, instinctively keeping a safe distance. It hurt to see her in this state, but he knew that getting too close could only make things worse.

Y/N looked up at him, her face pale, sweat beading on her forehead. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t form any words. Her eyes begged for help, but the words never came.

Martha immediately went to Y/N’s side, her hands steadying her. “We need to get her to the living room,” Martha said quietly, her voice filled with concern. “Come on, sweetie, let’s get you to the couch.”

With Martha’s help, Y/N managed to stand and shuffle to the living room, her steps shaky and slow. Clark watched her go, his mind racing.

“I have an idea,” Clark said suddenly, his eyes intense. “The spaceship in the cellar... It neutralized the meteor rocks once before, when Tina Greer tried to take my place. Maybe it will work for Y/N too.”

Jonathan’s expression shifted immediately, his brow furrowing. “Clark, absolutely not. We can’t risk exposing the ship. This could reveal everything.”

“I know,” Clark said, his voice raw with emotion. “But it’s the only chance we have. We can’t just let her die.”

Jonathan’s face softened, but he didn’t back down. “You’re talking about revealing everything. You’re talking about putting us all in danger.”

“I get that, Dad,” Clark replied, his voice desperate. “But if there’s even the slightest chance the spaceship can help her... I can’t just stand here and do nothing.”

There was a long silence, as both father and son stood there, staring at each other. Martha, who had been comforting Y/N in the living room, glanced up at them from the doorway.

“Clark’s right,” she said quietly. “We have to try. It’s the only way.”

Jonathan sighed heavily, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. “And what happens if it doesn’t work? What happens if it kills her instead? It protected you, Clark. It only did that because it was saving you from Tina Greer. It won’t help her unless... unless you’re in danger.”

Clark’s heart pounded as he processed the words. He had no choice but to take a risk. The thought of losing Y/N was too much to bear.

“I know,” Clark said quietly, his eyes intense. “But if it works for me, it could work for her too. We have to try. If we don’t, she’ll die.”

Jonathan exchanged a look with Martha, her expression unreadable. He sighed deeply, weighing the consequences. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but firm.

“Alright,” he said reluctantly. “We’ll do it your way. But we’re doing this carefully. No one can know what’s down there.”

—

Jonathan guided Y/N carefully down the steep, creaking stairs of the storm cellar. The air in the underground room was thick with the scent of dust and old wood. Every step felt like a weight pressing down on her chest, as though the pain pulsing through her body was more than just physical—it was an ache that seemed to stem from her very soul. Her skin burned with a feverish heat, and her heart raced, erratic, unsteady, as though she were on the verge of something much worse.

"Clark will be with you in a second," Jonathan said softly, though the concern in his eyes was unmistakable. His hand remained on her shoulder as he guided her, but his grip tightened slightly when they reached the last step. "I’ll be back in an hour," he continued, his voice trying to offer reassurance despite the unspoken weight of his words. "By then, the ship will have done what it can. Just hang in there, Y/N."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, a rhythmic thrum of panic. She wanted to say something, ask why things had gone so horribly wrong, but her throat felt tight, constricted by the weight of it all. Her hands shook, and every part of her screamed for answers, for clarity. Why did this happen? What was happening to her? Why couldn’t she stop the pain? And why had everything changed the moment she touched that rock?

The storm cellar door creaked shut above her, plunging her into the silence of the underground. Her vision swam as she leaned against the wall for support, the dim light of a single bulb casting long shadows that made everything feel far too close.

It wasn’t just the pain. It was the uncertainty. She had always felt like she had a grip on her life, a sense of control. But now, it felt like her body was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any given moment. Her breath quickened as her chest heaved with each inhale, but the air felt heavy, oppressive. The sharp, burning sensation from the meteor rock coursed through her veins, and her muscles tensed as if her body was trying to fight against something invisible.

The door creaked open again, and Clark’s silhouette appeared in the dim light, but the moment he stepped inside, something changed. His face contorted with pain as he staggered slightly, one hand clutching his chest as if something was crushing his ribs from the inside. His breath was shallow, labored. His body, strong and capable, now seemed like it was being torn apart.

“Clark?” Y/N whispered hoarsely, trying to push through the haze of pain and confusion to understand what was happening.

“Y/N” Clark managed through clenched teeth, his voice strained. He took a step back, his face a mask of agony. “I don’t think the ship will work with me too close... It’s... It’s reacting to the meteor rocks in your blood.” He winced, another wave of pain overtaking him, and his hands curled into fists at his sides.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. "What’s happening, Clark? What is this?" Her voice wavered with a mix of terror and desperation, the rawness of the moment sinking in as she realized, truly realized, the enormity of what had just happened.

Clark stared at her for a long moment, slumping against the far wall with his eyes full of silent conflict. He wanted to help, but he couldn’t. His body wouldn’t let him.

The silence between them stretched on, thick with the unspoken. Time seemed to slow. Seconds stretched into eternity. And still, no one moved.

“I—” Clark finally managed to speak, his voice unsteady. “I don’t think the ship thinks I’m in danger. It hasn’t done anything.”

Y/N blinked, confusion clouding her mind as she tried to make sense of what he said. “Ship? What ship?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, as if her words might break her. “Why are you in pain, Clark?”

Her gaze flickered toward him, and despite the raw pain in his expression, the worry that gnawed at him, he forced himself up the wall and took a step closer. Y/N recoiled instinctively, her arms crossed over her chest as if to shield herself from his approach.

“No,” she gasped, shaking her head violently, “I’m hurting you. Stay away.” She was trembling, her body stiff with the urgency to put distance between them. She didn’t understand any of this, but she knew one thing: she couldn’t bear to hurt him, especially not when he was already hurting.

Clark didn’t retreat, though. His determination surged through him, despite the agony that washed over him in waves. “I don’t care, Y/N,” he said quietly, his words thick with the effort it took to speak. “I can’t keep hiding it from you. You need to know.”

He lowered himself beside her, his breath shallow, his body still trembling. She watched him, unsure of what he was about to say, yet unable to look away.

“Clark?” Her voice cracked slightly, the fear still lingering beneath the surface.

Clark swallowed, his eyes meeting hers with a vulnerability that was foreign to him. “I’m not... I’m not like everyone else,” he said, his words coming slow, heavy. “I’ve... I’ve always known something was different about me. But I didn’t know what it meant, not really.” He paused for a moment, his breath coming faster now as he fought through the pain. “The ship... It’s... It’s the one that brought me here on the day of the meteor shower. It’s the reason I have powers. I can’t get too close to you right now, because the meteor rocks in your blood, they hurt me.”

Y/N’s heart beat faster, and for a moment, she almost couldn’t breathe. It felt like the ground was shifting beneath her feet, her world suddenly tilting in a direction she couldn’t follow. She’d heard the rumors, the whispers, the talk of “meteor freaks” and strange occurrences around Smallville. But this? This was something else entirely.

“I thought... I thought you were just another one of those meteor freaks,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she leaned back against the cold stone wall, lost in thought.

Clark stiffened slightly at her words, but when he saw her expression, a small smile on her face filled with understanding and acceptance, something inside him softened. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned back until his back was resting against her front. The proximity made him ache, but he didn’t care anymore. It felt right, even in the midst of all the chaos. Even as the room swirled with shadows and unanswered questions, for the first time, he felt a small sense of peace.

Y/N moved closer to him, her fingers gently grazing his skin as if offering some comfort despite the pain they both shared. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

The words hung between them like a promise, fragile and unsure, but real.

Clark’s breath hitched slightly when he felt her small kiss press to his forehead. It was soft, fleeting, but something about it made his skin burn—alive in a way he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe this was what it was supposed to feel like. To be normal. To feel cared for.

Y/N’s lips brushed his skin again, this time more than once, and the sensation sent a jolt through Clark’s entire being. Was this what regular people felt? Was it worth the pain, the isolation, the secrets? The fire in his chest flared, but in a way that didn’t hurt. It sang through him. He wondered if the pain was just part of the price of something better.

Suddenly, the spaceship in the cellar emitted a loud whirring sound, and Clark’s eyes widened in shock. A bright, blinding flash of light filled the room, surrounding them both in a wave of energy.

The pain in Y/N’s body disappeared, and with it, the fire in her veins. Her breathing slowed, steady, as if her body had just come back to life.

Clark blinked rapidly, his hands still trembling. But the storm of pain in his chest had abated as well, and he could feel something else now, something brighter, clearer.

Y/N looked down at her hands, surprised and awestruck. The glowing sensation had stopped. Her blood no longer burned, no longer felt like it was being consumed by the meteor rock. The ship had done it. It had worked.

Y/N looked back at Clark, their gazes locking for a brief, electrifying moment as they both leaned in, drawn toward something unspoken and yet undeniable. But just as the space between them began to shrink, the cellar door creaked open, and Jonathan and Martha’s heads peeked in, breaking the moment. “All good in here, kids?” Jonathan’s voice carried a mix of concern and curiosity, disrupting the quiet tension that had settled between them.

💌 💌 💌 💌

[erigold13261]

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[originalcontent]

I can't find art of my ship anywhere so I GUESS that means I have to make it myself, here are some doodles.

[palettepainter]

Every time I remember there are no official ROTTMNT plushies a part of my soul dies

[licorishh]

Hey as a super introverted but not shy person I'd just like to say the jokes about extroverts "adopting" introverts to "get them out of their shell" are actually completely unfunny and it just goes to show how little respect a lot of y'all have for the fact that we genuinely don't want excessive social interaction and that y'all are forcing us to do something that brings us extreme physical and mental discomfort because you perceive our introversion as a failing rather than as purely a difference in personality.

We don't need your "help" to socialize. We're not children. We're simply not interested in spending every waking second of our lives talking to people and being talked at in return.

[fishpondfish]

me quitting my job is probably even more exciting to my friends than it is to me because i finally stop whining to them about how much i want to quit. although i will of course start whining about job hunting

[disdaidal]

So, I met my nurse today and she said I'm finally getting scheduled for the ADHD testing on Dec 18th—after all these years. Albeit she said that it may not change a thing, but it's good to test it anyway.

I also had a discussion with my teacher today about my problems and we went through some stuff, and I might feel a little bit more enlightened about some things, which will hopefully help me.

Still. I'm having trouble with planning some stuff at my workplace because the staff there simply doesn't have time, and my instructor is also a very busy person (plus she's fussy and impatient and a little upset/disappointed with me which is not making it any easier for me), so that is still giving me a lot of stress right now.

So, I don't know. On the other hand, one teacher says I'm doing a good job and that I shouldn't quit. Then again, this particular school and their style of teaching simply might not be the thing for me and I expressed that concern today as well. I need help getting through with some stuff and nobody has time for me, so it's obviously not good.

I also need to find another place to train soon and that workplace would have to be something where I wouldn't have to manage 15 things at the same time and well. Finding that could be a challenge, too.

But. I suppose we're going somewhere.

[goblin-enjoyer]

I swear why are half the things i like/fandoms im in made of mostly younger people while the other half are mostly older people? what are the zoggin odds with that?

How it feels being 20 in a fandom with a bunch of 30-40 somethings.

VS how it feels being 20 in a fandom with a bunch of 14-17 somethings.

like am do i just have extremely odd luck with things i like or is this just what being 20 is like?

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent ones of these even though they all look the same lol.. forcing myself to document progress..

[depoteka]

🥴🥴 i called like 10 people on monday to see their flats/rooms and only managed to set up 2 meetings for tuesday. paid the equivalent of like a couple of days worth of groceries for train tickets because the prices skyrocketed. woke up at the crack of dawn to catch said train. one of the meetings got cancelled and the other one was literally sooooo perfect. a place i've always wanted to live in, the price was perfect and the flatmate nice. just now she messaged me she chose somebody else

[south-sea]

i talk about the softer side of second chance au a lot so it’s time to talk about how absolutely feral the boys still are. just because they’re living in kinder circumstances now doesn’t mean they’ve been declawed.

metal, even with his hostility coding removed, is still a vicious little beast. normally he doesn’t want to fight if he doesn’t have to (maybe it's more accurate to say he lets it be someone else's problem until it has to be his), but it takes very little to provoke him. is he brooding, and you’ve just forced him to move two inches to the left? he's turning you into a bowling pin. did you just playfully hit him in the back of the head with a paint gun? you’re getting ragdolled over his shoulder. did you hurt who was precious to him? … hope you got life insurance, dude.

removing the hostility coding has not made him kind; it’s only distilled that hostility and allowed him to focus it on those who deserve it (or don’t. metal is not exactly a good judge of character).

he doesn't necessarily like causing pain, but some part of him delights in seeing the aftermath of his fights. after all is said and done, and he looks back to see he's carved trenches into the ground or set fires or knocked over trees, then all the better. maybe he doesn't go out of his way to cause destruction, but he certainly takes any excuse to, and when it's given to him for good reason, he leans into total overkill territory.

he is tired of being someone else's weapon, but he will still chose to be a weapon, especially if it means defending those he cares about.

even on the lighter side of things, one of the first things he learned is he does not know how (and does not like to) play with other children. games like tag or keep-away aren’t challenging, and he doesn’t understand the point of letting younger kids win to keep them from being discouraged. he cannot empathize with them, and if he can’t make use of even a fraction of his everyday abilities, then what’s the point? how is it fun, if he’s not allowed to hover to keep himself from being made “it”, or speeding away to avoid being tagged? how is it fun, if he has to handicap himself? (what even IS “fun”?)

for the most part, shadow’s content to live an easier life of exploration. he does not fight unless in self-defense, and isn’t that reactive or easy to provoke. but there are some days he misses the thrill of just, existing at a faster pace. he doesn’t have much reason to run or hone his abilities—even if he doesn’t have a reason to fight, it’s still an aspect of himself that needs nurturing and entertaining. he has a lot of energy built up, and doing nothing but wandering around and learning isn’t going to help him expend it. there’ll be days he takes off running at full speed from nothing and just Goes.

i’d like to think there’s a day where one or both of them are frustrated about the lack of excitement or feel they’ve stagnated, and just end up racing each other. metal can have races again that don’t end in a shower of sparks and broken parts, and with nothing to prove to “himself” (maybe this is “fun”?). shadow has a way to expend excess energy—he makes it a best two out of three. they run until sundown and don’t even notice until metal catches the fact that shadow’s winded.

maybe they even start to spar with each other, but that one might take some time. metal, as brutal and merciless as he is against anyone else, is fiercely in the “shadow is my responsibility” camp and would have a hard time allowing himself to do anything but block. i’d like to think shadow eventually proves he can handle it, and then it’s a no-holds-barred scrap that ends with a few broken quills and some chipped paint, but instead of sharp words and petty verbal jabs, it’s a calm trade of pointers to help cover each other’s weak spots while they're sat together in the grass afterward.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[ghirahimbo]

I need.... a bigger window.....

[cuteniaarts]

In another world, fate was just a little bit kinder

[s-ephiroth]

going from maining twitter to here is so wild because I run into familiar names and I'm like "did I block you on twitter... do I need to block you here too so you don't access me?"