CLARK / @amcssing ——— A Blur Of Azure, A Flicker Of Red, A Dash Of Gold—— It’s The Roar Of
CLARK / @amcssing ——— a blur of azure, a flicker of red, a dash of gold—— it’s the roar of wind, the tearing of sound then the chill of the tundra. crystal shards stacked high, threatening to pierce heaven itself yet … they would never. gently it holds the world aloft, an icy place of solitude and respite, a place where even heroes might rest: a fortress. ears perk, catch the sound of clicking heels, the gentle shift of blonde hair, the sound of plush lips made stern. a boom—— a clap of thunder, the roar that announces the elation of flight before he appears. clark hovers, weightless, blues peering at her with a stars luminosity. warm, inviting, kind. boots tap the ground gentle, no longer content to linger above … no, eager to stand beside. cape swishes, faint traces of wear, a battle fought and won. strong fingers, warm like flame cup her cheeks, forehead resting against hers. ‘I’m starting to think you like the fortress of solitude way more than I do, Emma. Trying to live up to the last name?’
SHE FEELS HIM BEFORE she hears him, sees him, before the wind shifts and suddenly he is here. summer fruits / warm flannel / old folk music / sunsets. her silence interrupted but for once, it is welcome, this cacophony of thoughts running mile - a - minute . the moment her mind can touch his, the rigidness of her shoulders seems to melt.
lashes flutter shut, brushing the cheeks lifted with touch. his hands are calloused----how are they so soft ? questions she'll never ask because she doesn't care for an answer. first time she's had that thought since her arrival, which was, how long ago ? emma loses track of time here with an unnerving ease. or perhaps comforting ease.
-- " can you blame me ? "
it isn't a real question / he would never. he would never blame her for her loneliness, her wondering. and wondering she has been: her curse is to think, after all. to think of her responsibilities, her loves, her life. her failures. broken children, broken heroes. for every time she attempts to protect the metahumans, does she do anything but paint targets upon their backs ? her heart so open, yet caged.
he frees it. instantly. emma looks up into eyes full oif hope and the glacier melts, so does her gaze. a forehead 'gainst chest. something solid to lean against / not violent, but fierce. unmoving. she is diamond, but he is her rock. holding her down to the ground despite his ability to fly. perhaps that's what drew her in, after all these years; someone with a genuine want to hold her without suffocating. protect, not control. an open mind both literally and figuratively, easy to forgive and easier to trust.
his mindsong hums against hers, and she doesn't read them, just listens. enjoys the comfort of his alien mind with hers, his very human embrace.
-- " ... i apologise. i should have had batman inform you i was leaving. you didn't need to rush here so suddenly. "
More Posts from Amcssing and Others
【 @thuganomxcs | ❛ i did mess up. ❜ | mixed bag prompts , accepting.
warm gaze softens, lips curling into an almost knowing smile. ( he knows a lot, but not everything. ) knows when to pursue—— knows when to withhold judgment. knows when to be kind &. even more so when to be stern. lessons from his parents, more often than not, hold true ... no matter how obstinate they seemed in youth. coarse around the edges, a bit crass, but those're external things. things people look at before knowing the real you. ( whether that's biting remarks—— or a blue super suit. )
❛ yeah, maybe a little, ❜ he admits ... sugar coating isn't helpful, not to him or them. ❛ but you're mature enough to admit it. mature enough to apologize, too, i bet. ❜ words drip with commendation, still offering not only correction but guidance. words he would want to hear himself, at times. ❛ besides, ❜ a sunny smile, a gentle laugh. ❛ you're not the only one who's messed up. ma and pa nearly rang my bell when i 'borrowed' the pickup. compared to that—— well, you're doing alright, yusuke. ❜
The funny part about this first encounter is Steph is left wondering "geez, what'd I do to piss her off?" and meanwhile Cass is walking away thinking "she seems nice. I am so good at giving helpful advice."
anyways, little inbox call so i can at least say i did more than a few things today. it'll either be from your meme tag or smth a lil pre est off top.
i'm slowly building my reading list so i can get muse inspo and i love books
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄?
deep staining red. ripped out confessions, warm velvety whispers and a heart like an open wound. your love flows out like dripping blood, beautiful, flawed and twisted. it's gut wrenching, the type of painfully dramatic feeling that makes you clutch your chest, picturing dramatic monologues about love and loving and big screen over the top scenes of sobbing into your pillow until you fall asleep. it rips out of you, clawing it's way up your throat more so than tumbling out. sticky words that just need to be let out, feelings so big they don't fit inside you. your love isn't easy, it's a true bloody mess, dripping and staining everything it touches in a desperate attempt to be seen, to be felt, to be loved back. and you, you love so hard, so deeply, so much for someone who carries all that pain. atlas holding up the world, how are you? is your love still flowing? is your heart still open? still pumping and bleeding and dripping with blood and tears? still painting your beautiful pictures and writing your love letters in deeply personal red ink? because i see them, i read them, i love them and you, you, you, you. clench your chest, scream your love, cry it out. spill your words of loving, keep your heart beating, keep your love coming and paint the entire world red with it. make it in your image, keep going, it's okay. maybe one day the whole world can be red and loved and beautiful just like you.
tagged by: @hadobreeze ty ty tagging: steal it.
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