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It's always been a tragedy, the Stars replied.
That's just the way it has always been, and it always will be. We've watched over a thousand lives, a million stories, but the ones like you? It's always a tragedy.
It's called Fate, the Sun said. And there's nothing you can do about it.
how could a Boy do what the Sun couldn't? / ( j.p. )
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IN BLOOM / CLARK KENT. by antigalactic.
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The ice inside of Lily Lark is sharper than a knife and brittler than bone. She holds a winter in her chest and a warmth in her veins that she cannot shake. Her skin is a patchwork of iron armour and flesh-coloured petals and she has a tongue like gunmetal bullets with an attitude to match – a glass house charading as a diamond fortress. Lily Lark is an enigma and Clark Kent cannot figure her out.
Because Clark Kent does not exist in paradoxes or juxtapositions: his smile glows and his touch thaws and his laugh feels like the summer sun. He carries hope in his bones and courage in his lungs, his every breath extinguishes fear and doubt; he is a hero and he is strong and kind and good.
