tongue runs across teeth, jagged fangs that part for even sharper words. the beast, it walks amongst the shadows of the streets, its rot of death close behind. peering from the foliage, peering from the shadows—— it saw everything. from the birth of millions stars to the deaths of countless others. ( light / shadow ) it's not coexistence ... rather codependency. if there's good, then surely evil exists, words to define, to restrict and simplify reality. neither concept exists, or rather ... it's pointless to define them because you will always be what someone else decides. whether that's the universe—— a friend—— an enemy. ( there are no choices. )
❛ oh stop it, you. ❜ smile becomes loose, biting onto her words. ❛ if that were the case, you wouldn't be here. ❜ not alone, not with him of all people. soulless, heartless—— a knack fo finding broken things. ( were these ... him? did he finally choose for himself? at last ... ) another step, a laugh that's too far too crude to be kind anymore. each step an advance, each step closer and closer to wounded creature. ❛ let me let you in on a secret, darling. that pit in the bottom of your stomach ... that shadow you see flit in the corner of your eye ... that weight you tie to your life, well, it's all rubbish. ❜ curt, dry.
glint of amusement in his gaze, dulls. pools of nothingness—— of heavy truth, sit before her. a reflection of a reflection. far too warped. far too twisted. it does not view the world with eyes at all. it does not hear or see. it simply ... is. cold, hard, unfeeling. floating above lofty things like ideals &. reason. ( could they even be in the same world at all? ) ❛ but, to answer your question ... hmmmmm ... no. questions are one of the few pleasures in the world for me. listening to people lie—— it's rather fun. ❜ dim light returns like candle finding flame, a cool heat sits within martin's gaze. mercy? ❛ ... now, how bout this, i patch up those nasty little wounds and you can cling to life as you always have or ... you can well, throw in the towel. give up. start the next chapter, so to speak. ❜ ( rest. )
❛ Oh, you think I'm pretending? ❜ A scoff followed, a harsh, dismissive sound that echoed years of cynicism, accompanied by a sharp glint in her eyes that betrayed something deeper. The words hung in the air, pressing against her like an invisible hand to her throat. ❛ Let me tell you a secret — there’s no act to keep up when there’s no one left to pretend for. ❜
It was a bitter truth, a loneliness that had become her constant companion and consumed her very being with every fiber of her existence. Fending for herself had become second nature, from the harsh days of her early adolescence up until now. She had endured in a world that offered no solace, no guidance, only the relentless pressure to survive.
And yet... she could never quite escape the heavy burden that it placed upon her shoulders, nor the dreadful feeling that settled within her chest as she spoke those words, a hollow ache that whispered of something lost, something perhaps never possessed at all. Despite her outward bravado and unrelenting expression, she couldn't quiet the whispering voice in the back of her head that questioned her own statement. Pretending — wasn't that the foundation of her very existence? The only thing that kept her afloat in a world that had deemed her the villain, a despicable, wretched being ever since she drew her first breath? The act of a mere human, trying to blend in and be accepted, had been her first role, but had she ever really stopped hiding behind the facades she'd constructed?
But even then... nothing mattered, really — except the fact that she would keep pretending. Because what was the alternative? To crumble? To break down and reveal vulnerability to a world that wouldn’t offer any sympathy?
She forced a brittle smile, the edges sharp and unforgiving. ❛ But tell me, does it ever get tiring trying to pick apart things you’ll never understand? ❜ The deflection carried a sardonic edge — a challenge, a dare, and something dangerously close to a plea.
I'M CRYING, LOOK AT CLARK'S FACE WHEN LOIS GETS KRYPTONIAN POWERS
CLARK KENT IS THE REIGNING CHAMP OF BEING LOIS LANE'S #1 FAN THAT IS A MAN THAT IS ABSOLUTELY OVER THE MOON THAT HIS WIFE IS SO COOL AND STRONG AND AWESOME HE IS SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW JUST WATCHING HER THIS IS THE BEST OF OF HIS LIFE
brad's traveled countless worlds, seen the edge of time, and bumped shoulders with gods and monsters alike. he did it all —— he did it too fast and too young. instead of savoring every moment, he hurried along to the next without ever stopping to wonder if these times would last forever. unfortunately, they did not. he knows how this story ends whether he likes it or not, making everything seem pointless. what's left for someone who can no longer experience newfound pleasures and experiences? boredom. a deep boredom.
he gallivants around as the machiavellian adventurer, putting his wants over the needs of others because that's what he's always done. if he stops moving and breaks for an instant, will those thoughts come back? will he be able to fend off that everything's tinged in grey and pointless? so, he never stops. going from one role to the next keeps him distracted from confronting the end.
the roles he picks are impromptu. whichever is the most interesting at the time. it could be the villain, the mentor, the naysayer, the optimist, anything and everything that lets him escape. if everyone's the protagonist of their story, then brad inserts himself in roles aligned with how it plays out. a chance to see something different — he hopes. it's these roles, however, that keep him from connecting with others. a clever guise painted across that ache inside. if someone threatens to peel them back, he runs. he's always running.
beneath the charm and spells is a lonely man. someone unable to grasp the pleasure of life again because he's seen too many things. he doesn't go out of his way to change things. he doesn't flex against the mold; he exists and continues on. he knows it's pointless. if he changes, it's small things to him. his morality, in some ways, is muddled. as a being deeply touched by magic, his emotions are fickle and wild. it's fluid and dangerous. one moment, things could be fine, and the next, chaos for the sake of chaos. for the sake of excitement.
he struggles to feel things but allows himself to live through others. to let them experience some, never all, of the wonders he's seen. it's a comfort to remember what joy looks like, what sadness and rage appear in another's face when genuine. to see himself, a fractured piece of infinity, sitting in another's gaze. he never has qualms about rushing into danger; he wants to draw out more of those feelings that he has lost. it's cruel to play with others' feelings; he knows and does it anyway. it's the only thing he feels he rests in the palm of his hand.
Thor Ragnarok (2017)
@giftober 2024 + @mcuchallenge | Day 8/31: Home
the older i get, i completely understand why some people go off the grid and live their lives in private
i got this amazing commission from HeloiseArt_ and would highly recommend them!