Little Beast, Richard Siken.

Love Begins

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@princeofmetropolis
Little Beast, Richard Siken.
Let me tell you what I do know: I am more than one thing, and not all of those things are good. The truth is complicated. It’s two-toned, multi-vocal, bittersweet. I used to think that if I dug deep enough to discover something sad and ugly, I’d know it was something true. Now I’m trying to dig deeper.
Richard Siken (via languagedisease)
Oliver Booty calls Lex.
Smallville Season 11 #20.
rraaaarrl:
and then Luthor popped the question
i can see them sitting around with their matching kryptonite rings, staring at poor supes with :| expressions several hours a day.
…that would be hilarious.
#you both literally just fucking met each other yesterday #what are you doing #i mean you actually KISSED yesterday #and now this #you forgot to turn your flirt off #no wonder clark’s dad was so upset about lex #he knows homos when he sees them #he knew this was coming #he knEW
Superman being a super bad daddy
and Luthor being a mommy all of a sudden trying to lure Supes back into his bed
Young Justice ep 22. “Agendas”
Bahahahahahahahaha
someone throw me in a ditch jfc
Smallville (S7E5)
“As grotesque and sordid a family tree as I’ve just inherited, I… wasn’t good enough.”
Boot Theory, Richard Siken
Smallville - Lex Luthor
Happy Birthday, Cara! :D
terms of surrender || lex&clark
Clark was silent. He let Luthor give him his analysis of Shakespeare’s play. He felt his gut twist at Luthor’s obvious attempts to bring up something romantic. He remained where he was, his arms were still crossed. It looked like he wasn’t breathing. A floating statue, hanging outside the White House in the middle of the night in full costume.
Superman wanted to respond, but Luthor had brought up Smallville and their first meeting. He felt that uncomfortable feeling again and remained silent. He was using the time to sort through his thoughts. In truth, he had no idea what he should do. Helping Luthor was tantamount to trusting him. What that really meant was that Clark had to be sure he wasn’t being manipulated into doing more harm than good.
“That young man is gone.” Clark admitted honestly, his tone cold. “He died sometime in Smallville. He never would have done the things you have.”
Clark fell silent again, his arms uncrossing and falling into fists at his side. His veneer of neutrality was cracking. The anger was seeping through. “I’m not your pawn. I won’t be a part of your schemes.”
It was hard for Superman to refuse someone assistance. He had come all the way to D.C. to help him. Luthor had admitted he was wrong, had admitted he needed help. For someone like Lex, well, that spoke louder than words. But Clark couldn’t forget all the pain, hurt and disaster Luthor had caused. Couldn’t help but feel like he had been used too many times to fall prey to the Master Plans of Lex Luthor anymore. Coriolanus had thought highly of Aufidius. When Coriolanus decided to change the plan, do the right thing and save lives, Aufidius slit his throat. Luthor was right, history would repeat itself…if you let it.
"You're wrong," Lex said, abruptly, coldly, hands clenching into fists at his side. His expression transformed into something ugly and quivering, resentment and anger and not hate, exactly, but as close as Lex could bring himself where Clark was concerned. It was the face of a man who had been beaten and broken over and over again, who had laid down and taken it and bottled all the bad up until there was simply no more room.
Clark couldn't possibly understand. Clark had had a family and friends that loved him while Lex was suffering years of physical and emotional abuse by Lionel Luthor, scorned by his peers for his lack of hair, dealing with the damage of losing his own brother. Clark likely would have been playing with other children his own age while Lex was sleeping in waiting rooms hoping for a miracle cure for his mother's cancer. Clark was dealing with the perils of middle school while Lex was overdosing on cocaine in the back of a seedy London night club. Clark had this picturesque little life and Lex would have killed for a second of it, Lex, who...
...Who had one thing going for him, back in Smallville, just one thing. But in the end, Clark had left too, and Lex had been back to square one.
"The Clark Kent I knew was the one who died all those years ago. I had just one friend, one person who believed in me--and then he was gone, just like everyone else in my fucking life who I've ever--"
His voice cracked. Lex hadn't realized he'd been getting louder, to the point of shouting, until it had happened. Control, he reminded himself, control, but it wasn't that easy because Lex had always felt things, emotions, bigger and grander than other people, so when the dam broke, it was nigh impossible to hold the flood back.
Lex closed his eyes. There were sharp pinpricks on the backs of his eyelids and a lump rising in his throat, so he turned away before something in his face could give it away.
When he could speak again, voice thick, all Lex said was, "I had hoped there was some small part of Clark left that I could appeal to. I see now that I shouldn't have assumed such."