#taken to the extreme

[the-6th-harbringer]

I'm confused as to why DO you hate Kabukimono so much, aside from the gnosis thing lmao

Is it a self-hatred thing where you're taking it out on him because he is an iteration of you? Do you blame him for getting abandoned by Ei? I'm not trying to convince you otherwise, just trying to get it.

I get the whole "worthless doll" thing but in reality, you wouldn't be any better, right? He's already shown to have unique thoughts like you do (him disobeying what he's told to do by anons), but after all this time, you still want to hold your gnosis, like what you were created for. Aren't you just following orders too?

If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have suffered.

If he had been better, I could've been happy.

But no. The universe just hates me!

I blame everything on him.

[reineydraws]

i dont have a caption for you lol i'll let shanks's heart eyes speak for themselves 🫶

(source)

[captainkirkk]

I want to see characters being taken care of in an explicit and worshipful way. Home-cooked meals. Hair brushed and braided by gentle hands. Little gifts just because.

I want to read about characters who are not used to kindness being bombarded by acts of service. This trope works romantically and platonically. Give me found family and acts of service - all the ways a character is wrapped up in wordless, explicit care after years of cruelty and having no idea how to handle. I need it.

[applesaucefilledsocks]

More Maxley ;))

Do you think Disney knows about what we’re up to with these two??

I kinda hope so. They should make Maxley canon for pride month LMAO

HEHE they’re so gay

Still frames:

[bluerosefox]

Anther DPxDC idea (it can be either turn into future Dead on Main or Anger Management, I'm not picky)

With Toddler!Damian~

So

When Jason was being 'trained' by the LOA in a fit of Pit Madness he somehow manged to stumble upon a toddler Damian in the base when he fought his current 'teacher' and fell into Damian's own training room at the time he was training.

Jason, even in a Pit Rage episode and not yet fully 'trained' out of his Robin teaching and his own (deeply buried) morals of protecting children, see's a toddler being trained with a legit sword and see's some of the wounds and cuts the kid has on himself from the training. He does not take it well and in a fit, fights the other teacher and gathers Damian into his arms.

This leads to Jason, in half coherent and half Pit Madness, to try to escape with Damian in his arms and get the heck out of the League with assassins at his heels.

However the fight eventually ends up with them near the Pits itself and in a single wrong move the two fall in.

The two do not resurface.

-x-x-

It was a normal day in Amity Park.

As normal as Amity Park could be to be honest.

When one of the Fenton siblings came down to clean the lab for the day when the protal suddenly flared up and for the lack of better words spat out a teen around their age and a toddler.

Both passed out on the lab floor.

[fellthemarvelous]

It pisses me off to see the way some Star Wars fans are so dismissive of Reva, Third Sister.

She's complex. She's interesting. She's clever. She's intelligent. She's strategic. She's conflicted. She's traumatized. She's scared. She's angry. She's a survivor.

The Obi-Wan Kenobi series literally opens with her and her friends watching one of her Jedi mentors get gunned down by clone troopers during Order 66.

She was a FUCKING CHILD!!! They were in the middle of a lesson when the clones walked in and started shooting everyone!! These were Anakin Skywalker's troopers and they were executing every single Jedi around them.

These children had NO idea what was going on. They were scared and they tried to run to safety.

We remember this scene from Revenge of the Sith and we all immediately knew what it meant.

These are the same bodies that Obi-Wan Kenobi found when he and Yoda returned to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant after having to kill so many of Anakin's clone troopers just to survive.

These are children that the Jedi Council wasn't there to save.

Palpatine snuffed out the light of the Jedi in one swift act of terrorism and then blamed the Jedi for their own genocide after taking over the entire galaxy.

And in times of war, the weakest among everyone always suffer the most.

This is what Reva, Jedi youngling, remembers most about the end of the Clone Wars.

Anakin Skywalker, hero of the Clone Wars and former padawan of the great Obi-Wan Kenobi, murdered all of her friends and injured her.

She had to play dead amongst the dead bodies of her friends, and that's how she survived. She witnessed Anakin Skywalker murder all the Jedi in the temple with no one there to stop him because the other Jedi Masters were being executed in a war they had never wanted to enter into in the first place.

She blames herself for not being able to save her friends because she wasn't strong enough to fight back. No youngling was ever going to be strong enough to stand against Anakin Skywalker. She wanted revenge against Anakin Skywalker, and she was just as desperate to get to Obi-Wan Kenobi as he was. She wanted to kill Anakin Skywalker just as badly as Darth Vader wanted to kill Obi-Wan.

She was alone in a galaxy that tortured and executed surviving Jedi. She spent ten years plotting her revenge against Anakin. She was angry at Obi-Wan for not being there to stop Anakin, and rightfully so.

The Republic fell. Reva and her friends were left unprotected. She was the only person she relied on because everyone else failed her. She was only a child when she lost everyone.

And it's clear she was conflicted by her role as an Inquisitor. She doesn't have the training the other Inquisitors do because she volunteered to be an Inquisitor while all the others were tortured and terrorized into falling to the dark side. She only wanted access to Anakin so she could get justice for what he did to her and her family.

Unlike Anakin, Reva couldn't find it in herself to harm a child. She was seeking revenge solely against Anakin Skywalker. Luke and Leia are the same age she was when she watched her friends and family die in front of her.

Yes, she was prepared to torture Leia, but she consistently hesitated, and when Tala walked in, Reva turned away. She stopped. Yeah she was mad, but she didn't have to go through with it. She'd already planted a tracker on Lola. She was already planning on allowing them to escape so she could locate their secret base. She just needed to bait Obi-Wan. Her plan worked perfectly, and she didn't even have to hurt this child who was annoying the shit out of her (not realizing she was dealing with Anakin Skywalker's offspring).

She went to Tatooine to kill Luke, but she couldn't. She hunted him down without bothering to kill Owen or Beru. She only cared about one thing. Getting justice for what happened to everyone she had been unable to save at the end of the war. She was only a child, and when she realized she was about to kill a defenseless child just to get revenge, she couldn't do it. She saw her face when she looked down at Luke and cried when she realized she couldn't do it.

She was so horrified by what she had been prepared to do and returned him to Owen and Beru alive. She fell to her knees and sobbed because she thought she failed her family in the end.

Obi-Wan was there for her this time. He reminded her that by showing mercy, she was giving her friends and family peace. She was not going to become the monster that Anakin Skywalker was.

Obi-Wan helped her and reminded her that she gets to decide who she wants to be from this point forward. She refused to become Anakin Skywalker, and a weight was finally starting to be lifted from her shoulders. A weight she had been carrying for ten long years.

She did what she thought she had to just to survive. She had only been a child with no guidance because everyone she loved died. She survived by joining the ranks of the enemy so she could plot her revenge. Obi-Wan showed her mercy at the moment she needed it most. He wasn't angry with her. He was compassionate. She survived Order 66 just like he did, but she had been defenseless when they were thrust into a galaxy that tortured and killed Force sensitive individuals and those who helped them. He had failed Reva during Order 66, and he wasn't going to fail her this time.

She is getting a second chance at finding her path in life despite the bad things she did. Everyone deserves a second chance. She was robbed of her childhood and had to grow up overnight. She had to learn how to survive. And that's exactly what she did. Just not in the way she expected.

[kitaychan]

ok i finally got around to continuing the ask!

Can I just say that q brave new world is somehow incredibly overstimulating at times, I dont get overtimulated easily but the book managed 5o do that and I dont know how.

Another main part of it is that nobody reads books, I know that's kind of a cliche at this point but when one of the main side characters discovers a shakespeare book it fuckin yeets your perspective sideways. Also the drugs and advertisement, it's all very stimulating, a very quick read if you read. it in one sitting.

Now for farenhight 451, this book mainly focuses on the destruction of knowledge, so that the main populace knows nothing about the past, which does seem like a commonplace in a lot if these novels and I absolutely adore it. I cant talk about this book very much because I really need to re read it, I'm doing a recollection from when I was like 13, but I remember the distinctive speaking style just absolutely creeping me out.

And as one more tiny bit

The handmaidens tale, that book (and the following book) is just absolutely brutal, as the previous ones it does much to reduce the overall knowledge of the populace, especially the women who are segregated based on many things, and hand maidens are described, in Offreds own words "As walking wombs", women are given next ti no rights in an oppressive regime that is getting startlingly close to some if the legislation getting passed today. Atwood knew what she was doing and that terrifies me.

Pls read all of these they're really good and sort of sit at the back of your brain whispering who knows what to your subconscious

Ohh I'm definitely going to read them in the near future! There's definitely a recurring theme within dystopias about freedom of speech and censorship, since those are usually used as indicators for democracy :o

Ohh I'm familiar with the Handmaid's tale because of the series but my dumb ass didn't know it was based on books, I'm totally checking them out because the premise though haunting is really interesting!

On the topic of dystopias I recommend the movie "Brazil" it's so bizarre but the ending hits like a train, it's pretty much the story of a guy who's living in this oppressive and bureaucratic society and longs to escape from it through his dreams. There's an interesting discussion about the way such a society normalizes dead, while the subjects are merely numbers and letters that the bureaucracy has to keep in order.

[laikabu]

modern au pre-relationship farcille (marcille pov)

a few years into the future, falin befriends doni and fionil(a half-elf) on one of her trips and offers to be their surrogate without telling anyone. everyone has mixed reactions when she comes home five months pregnant.

marcille particularly was angry, at first she thought falin had sex w a stranger or someone took advantage of her but none of that happened, it was just IVF. marcille has to learn to deal with falin making her own decisions, even though she thinks she’s too selfless that it’s kind of a flaw. helping take care of her along with laios as she reaches the third trimester, she can’t help but imagine a life like this with her and falls for her more and more

[deoidesign]

Return date for my webcomic, Time and Time Again!

It's been set for a while but sometimes they change the date without warning, so I'll keep you updated if anything changes!

I'm extremely proud of the work I've been doing on it, I can't wait to share everything!

See you then!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

THERE WAS NO PLACE IN NATURE WE COULD MEET ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; it’s never fun to run into an ex; especially when the ex in question is your unfairly handsome high school sweetheart. and just so happens to also be a wanted mass murderer.

word count; 3.3k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, geto-typical angst, exes to [redacted], lots of longing, geto is kind of a cunt but also disgustingly charming, reader is understandably upset, biblical imagery (i just think he’s so serpent coded), curse user geto is his own warning tbh

a/n; i wanted this to be a drabble so bad but it ended up just a little too long for me to get away w it so … :’3 yeah. i hate suguru geto (said w affection)

the moon is out.

in the shadows of the street corner you find yourself in, seated comfortably on the sidewalk, it’s a welcome distraction. something to look at, in the midst of your loneliness; the evanescent glow of the moon, illuminating your solitude.

a solitude soon to be broken. shattered into pieces, battered and bruised beyond recognition, jagged shards littering the asphalt. digging into the soles of your shoes.

”hey.”

for a second, you think you must be dreaming.

the figure obscuring the light of the lamp post in front of you is familiar. too familiar, a little too dear for your liking. as you grasp your shitty cup ramen, seeking the warmth seeping through the polystyrene, all you can do is stare. blinking dumbly, drowsily.

geto looks something like a bad omen.

sharp facial features, even sharper eyes. so dark they almost shift from an amber-tainted cedar into an obsidian black — two abysses, staring into your soul, beckoning you closer. they were always enchanting, but now you think they look almost hypnotizing. not at all in a good way. dark hair frames his face, cascading down his back, longer than you remember it being. and he’s wearing robes.

still has those fucked up bangs, though. of all the things to keep.

the gears of your mind turn, endlessly, untangling the mess of thoughts inside your brain. ensuring you that no, you are not hallucinating, and no, you didn’t fall into a deep slumber somewhere between the moment you exited the convenience store and sat down by one of tokyo’s empty street corners. this is real. a reality you can’t comprehend, can’t even begin to process.

what stands in front of you is a ghost. but ghosts don’t exist, can’t be seen, can’t touch the living.

(so how is he able to haunt you like this?)

what eventually jolts you out of your silent stupor is not the questioning tilt of his head, nor the suffocating sensation of your heart crawling up your throat, but the feeling of soft fur against your leg. the stray cat you met further down the street meows at you, sweetly, trying to get your attention. you think she must be asking for more grilled fish.

so, completely ignoring the apparition in front of you, you turn to reach for the little plastic bag you bought as a midnight snack — digging out a bit of fish for the kitty to enjoy. she seems happy, settling down by your feet. purring softly.

geto watches, eerily silent. 

(maybe he’s upset that you’re ruining his dramatic entrance. you hope so.)

finally, you have no choice but to look at him. a lump forms in the back of your throat, clogging up a little more for every second spent falling into the trap he’s laid out for you, trailing over his moonlit features with your tired gaze.

mouth full of noodles, staring holes into his attire, you narrow your eyes. suddenly disgruntled.

his lips quirk up. ”something the matter?” he asks, and you can’t even begin to describe how much you hate his voice. how devastatingly deep it is, during the late hours of the night, even deeper than it was back in high school. 

slurping up the soggy noodles, you lean back a little, licking some broth off your lips. finally meeting those abyssal eyes. 

”… i was gonna say those robes look like shit on you,” comes an exhale, weary, ”but you actually kinda pull them off. that’s…” 

a beat. you struggle to find the right word. 

”annoying.”

geto’s lips curl up, smoothly, and you find a hint of familiar amusement in the vague crinkle of his eyes. barely visible crows’ feet. then he’s moving — plopping down right beside you, robes fluttering with the breeze.

”well, thank you.” he hums; crossing his legs.

the silence that festers around you is odd. not quite suffocating, nor especially fragile. definitely not comforting. it’s familiar, yet different, and it hurts a bit more than it should. but you choose to look at him, out of the corner of your eye, and he looks right back at you. still smiling that eerie smile.

when your eyes settle on the particular cloth wrapped around his torso, you just barely manage to bite back a taunting chuckle.

”a gojo-kesa, huh?” you grin, and geto doesn’t flinch. he doesn’t miss the meaningful glint in your eyes, either. ”you miss him that much?”

”just a coincidence,” is all he answers. smiling, but you think it looks a little stiff.

your grin widens, for a second, before settling back down. a sad transition. you let it go. 

”whatever you say, geto.”

at that, he visibly reacts. barely noticeable, but it’s there — a twitch of his lithe fingers, an unknown something that flickers through the scope of his iris. when he looks at you, a neutral smile is playing at his lips. 

”ah. i take it we’re not on first name basis anymore, then?” he asks, casually, hiding a tinge of something mildly displeased.

a shrug. you pick at what’s left of your ramen with your chopsticks, a little too nauseous to enjoy it. ”call me what you want. i just don’t see suguru when i look at you, y’know?” leaning forward, you begin to pet the kitty by your feet. ”he was sweeter.”

geto smiles. almost a grin, but not quite there. a chuckle spills out from his lips, and something about it irritates you. ”was he?”

”yeah,” you nod. without hesitation. a summer-stained memory blooms behind your eyelids, but you try not to look at it. all you catch is a glimpse of cherry blossoms. ”you just seem bitter.” 

the grin that finds its way onto your lips is self-deprecating. a shadow falls over your face.

”guess we’re in the same boat, huh?”

a hum buzzes in his throat. he casts a meaningful glance towards your hand, scratching behind the cat’s ear. ”oh, i don’t know about that.” his smile grows with the drawl. ”.. you seem just as sweet as always.”

to your grave annoyance, you can’t control the way your face changes at his words. a twitch of your lips gives away your discontentment, and something sour settles on the tip of your tongue.

(your blood begins to boil, beneath your skin.)

geto sighs, suddenly, filling the tense silence between you — a little theatrical. ”ah, but that’s a shame.” he turns to you, soft pout playing at his lips. ”i was hoping i could hear you call me suguru again…”

”— i was hoping you’d come back.”

a beat.

somewhere outside your vision, a crow takes flight into the night sky. swallowed by darkness, melting into that sea of black. no longer perceivable, by you or the world.

”but you never did,” the polystyrene of the plastic cup crinkles beneath your fingers. your eyes look dull. ”so what the fuck do you want, exactly?”

…

”i heard.” geto rests his jaw on the heel of his palm, gazing at you with those piercing eyes. like he’s trying to see inside your brain. ”… about your decision.”

”ah,” a grin splits across the curve of your lips, showing off the white of your teeth. ”of course. that’s what this is about, huh?”

with groggy movements, you throw away your nearly-empty cup of noodles, haphazardly aiming towards a trash can across the street. it bounces off the steel cover, landing on the ground with a soft thud. leftover broth spilling out across the pavement. geto doesn’t bother to hide his amusement, lips twitching upwards before he sends a curse to eat it from the asphalt.

you furrow your brows in embarrassed annoyance.

a moment passes, and something in you knows that he’s waiting. it’s like you can practically sense it, like it’s etched into your bones. the same way you always knew exactly when he would begin to get impatient during your nightly convenience store runs back in high school — after you had spent about ten solid minutes struggling to decide what kind of chips you wanted. 

”what can i say?” you lean back, palms against rough concrete, breathing in the midnight air. ”you inspired me.”

geto tilts his head. smiling. always, always smiling. he smiled at you the day before he massacred that village, too. ”oh?”

with a deep breath, cool air courses through your body. burning your lungs. ”i realized being a sorcerer is completely fucking meaningless,” you exhale through your nose. ”and that trying to change that fact is even more meaningless.” 

a wicked, rueful grin rests on your lips. ”so i left.”

geto doesn’t say anything. you continue, voice dripping with venom.

”i’m a civilian now,” you purr, mocking, a sardonic coo on your tongue. ”does that bother you? feel like killing me?”

…

his smile looks a little off, now. tilted in a direction you don’t want to recognize. you don’t care to examine it further, don’t care to figure out if it might look just a little bit sad, because that’d only hurt more.

so you look away.

a click of his tongue. then he speaks, with that honeyed voice, raspy and husky. almost a groan. ”well, i can’t say i approve.”

he’s looking at you. sharp eyes digging into your skin, dissecting you, a million words he expects you to grasp from that look alone.

”you’re better than them,” he states, matter-of-factly, and you try not to squirm when his eyes trail over your features. ”worlds better.” his voice sounds almost motherly, a twisted concern that makes you cower a little. like he’s scolding you. a crease between his brows.

”i don’t like the thought of you surrounded by these animals.”

a huff pushes past your lips, but it sounds shakier than you’d like it to. you hope he just chalks it up to the chill of the air. then again, when has he ever made anything easy for you?

”what, you got a problem with cats now?” you reach for the little furball licking grilled fish off the concrete, picking it up. cradling it close. ”gonna go on a cat-killing spree?”

an amused exhale. geto narrows his eyes. ”funny,” he hums, but his eyes say you know what i mean.

it takes you a moment to regain control over your breathing. there’s still something tense in your shoulders, and your heart still feels a little like it might jump out of your throat and crawl into his lap. the stray cat slips from your grasp, moving towards geto, curiously sniffing at his robes. he looks at it with no ill intent, and it puts you at ease.

”well, i appreciate the concern, buddy,” you pat his back, trying not to flinch at the contact. trying to appear relaxed. ”but frankly, i don’t give a shit. i actually like my job, unlike literally every single sorcerer on planet earth.”

geto stills.

”.. buddy?” he echoes, ignoring every other bitter word you just graced him with. for some reason, he actually seems visibly bothered. ”i’m buddy now?”

you click your tongue. muttering, tiredly. a little exasperated. ”.. what else would you be?”

and then he smiles, again. only this time, it looks oddly genuine. the same as you remember, framed by cherry blossoms and the fizzle of youth.

his movements are smooth. like he’s completely unguarded, like this situation doesn’t bother him in the slightest. elegant, in the way he leans back, palms on the concrete to support his weight. keeping eye contact with you, all the while.

when he speaks, his voice has a sweet tinge to it. nostalgic, maybe. wistful. if you hear a touch of longing, you choose to ignore it.

”i seem to recall you calling me baby quite a lot,” he hums, and you stiffen. gritting your teeth. eyes darkening, but he continues. ”what else was there? angel, i think… it was sweet.”

then he’s leaning forward. scratching the cat under its chin, gently. ”ironic, though.”

an inhale. then, an exhale. they’re a little shaky, a little meek, but at least they make the lump in your throat feel less like it’s blocking your windpipe. air fills your lungs, but it tastes like nothing at all. 

something like sorrow simmers in your eyes. or maybe more like fatigue. god, you really want to cry.

(you wonder if he gets some sickening satisfaction out of seeing you like this, out of breaking you. maybe it just makes him feel rotten. you don’t know what you’d prefer.)

”suguru,” you murmur, at last. voice dripping with exhaustion. defeated, the sigh that flows from your lips. ”why did you come here?”

…

”join me.”

the words spill out into the open air, slicing the silence in half. heavy. a request, not a question. against your better judgement, you turn your head to meet his gaze.

”we could use you,” he says, and there’s hope in those keen eyes. he maintains his distance, but for some reason you still feel like prey being sized up by a predator. like he’s weighing your value.

a chuckle slips from your lips, but there’s no humour to it. ”use me…” you echo, a tired murmur under your breath. ”you're just straight up admitting it, huh? kinda refreshing.”

”that’s not what i meant.”

he inches closer. slowly, as if trying not to scare you. reaching out, to brush through your bangs, his fingertips ghosting over your skin. tangling them between your locks, inserting himself into your space. testing the waters. 

you don’t look at him, completely still. barely breathing. like a wounded animal.

”i want you there,” he says, and it comes out almost as a whisper. ”with us.”

unable to resist the temptation, you indulge in a single brief glance his way. his eyes look warm, and his lips look soft as they part.

”with me.” 

there’s a devotion to his voice when he continues, one he’s always had. one you thought you’d always be able to trust. ”i’ll create a world where you can be happy,” he vows. ”i swear it.”

a moment passes.

(you swallow thickly. it takes everything you have not to burst into tears. when you remember how he brushed you off, back then, it gets a little easier. when you remember all the skipped meals.)

”.. like you give a damn.”

geto smiles. you loathe how soft it looks, how similar it is to the one suguru always had. when you used to eat your ramen too quickly and started choking on it, and he brought a palm to your upper back, patting it gently. he’d chuckle, and tell you to slow down, and the softness of his smile would almost be enough to distract you from the amusement in his eyes. 

”my love.”

you flinch. breath drawing back at the base of your throat, heart screeching to a halt, and some part of you emerges; the shy, sweet kid you used to be. hanging on to his every world. like he was your sun, your guiding light. back when that purr of my love had you blushing furiously, not choking back a string of curses.

it’s sudden, and you can’t react the way you want to. you want to kill him for calling you that. for thinking he has any right to call you his, anymore.

but that sweet, naive, innocent little kid still exists. even if you want to pretend otherwise. it’s there, somewhere, that part of you — peeking out from behind the curtain. and it stops you from saying anything that might hurt him.

(it’s so hard to hate him when he calls you that.)

if geto notices your inner turmoil — he must — then he doesn’t mention it. you don’t say anything, but you hope the amused, harsh exhale you partake in is signal enough for him to cut it off. now.

yet he continues. there’s love in his voice when he speaks, barely contained. if he’s trying not to hurt you he’s doing an awful job.

”… i never stopped thinking of you,” he whispers, so low you almost miss it. ”not once. i left for you, not just for myself.”

and, despite every part of your being resisting it, a sweetness settles on your tongue. so sweet it’s sickening; the thought that maybe he’s telling the truth, maybe he really has been thinking of you. maybe you’re more to him than just a means to meet an end, or a memory yet to be buried.

geto looks at the moon. bathed in moonlight, he looks a little like a god. like something reverent. his voice is honeyed. low, like a secret.

”this world doesn't deserve you.”

silence.

a subtle anger trickles through your veins, a kind of fury, subdued, carefully tucked away. sparking to life inside the depths of your eyes when you look at him. bitter, given everything. but your voice still comes out sounding something like a plea.

”and you think you do?”

another smile. this time, it looks a little sad. remorseful, maybe. ”… let me prove myself.”

his touch burns. the pads of his fingers against your cold skin, cupping your cheek. slithering down to grasp your hand. and you’re pliant, unable to react. just sitting with that aching hollow feeling in your chest.

”i wasn’t worthy, back then,” he hums, bringing your hand to his lips. ”but now…”

a kiss to your knuckle. featherlight. reverent. you try not to shiver, but when he says your name, dragging each syllable out, like they belong on his tongue —

a chill runs down your spine.

when he speaks, you feel his warm breath on your skin. it’s dizzying. ”i’m not the same suguru you once knew,” he admits, a forlorn look in his eyes. and devotion, frighteningly sincere. ”unlike him — i’ll never let you go.”

what a twisted desire. he wants to take you with him, drag you down to hell. the suguru you knew wouldn’t put you through that. but maybe you’re even more twisted, for wishing he had; for wishing he had taken you with him, ten years ago, instead of leaving without a single goodbye.

geto’s voice is soft. coaxing, like he's handling a frightened mouse. join me, he whispers, and you think of eve. when you look at his mouth you think you see serpents’ teeth behind his lips.

(you're almost sure he notices it. and you're almost sure his smile widens, lips curling up, as if preparing to open his maw and swallow you whole.)

a sickening sense of resignation roots itself somewhere in your gut. 

you pull your hand away, and he lets you. the loss of warmth hits you like a freight train, but you aren’t sure you could think clearly with his skin on yours. when you part your lips to speak, only air comes out, just barely forming a sentence. like there are no more words to say. like the world stopped spinning around you both a lifetime ago.

”i don't love you.”

…

for just a second, his smile falters. 

”no?” he hums, and you wish it didn’t hurt so bad to see him hurt. his eyes carry a kind of patience, something gentle. ”it’s fine… these things take time.”

a bitter chuckle. ”like you’d know anything about waiting,” you spit, and it comes out sounding venomous. a phantom ache sprouts in the spot where his lips touched your skin.

geto closes his eyes.

”you don't need to love me,” he says, finally. kind. you hate that he still sounds so kind. so understanding, like nothing you do could be wrong in his eyes. ”as long as you're beside me, that's enough.” 

he turns to look at you, and his smile looks very real, for a moment. impossibly fond. ”i have two daughters. i’ve told them about you,” he smiles. ”my family… you’d like them. i know they’d like you.”

dark clouds cover the moon, suddenly, and a shadow falls across you both. illuminated only by the streetlight. in the distance, you hear a car whooshing by.

”don’t stay at the bottom,” he beckons, and your name slips from his lips again. soft, his tongue bending around the vowels. coaxing. stirring your heartstrings like a puppeteer.

then he’s standing up, dusting off his robes, large hands smoothing down the fabric. turning around, towering over you; obscuring everything else. all you see is him, under the glow of the lamp post. a halo of artificial light.

”come. let me show you the world we can create.”

he gives you a sweet smile, two abysses gazing into you. the promise of something twisted, new, forbidden. you think of red skin and yellow flesh; the bite of sin.

and for a second, you see it. the world. a world where laughter comes from the bottom of your gut, and the trees are always ripe for picking, red apples hanging from the branches like glowing rubies. a world where sweetened fruit never give way to rot.

paradise.

geto stretches a hand out towards you. fingers unfurling, one by one, like a blooming camellia. close, right there in front of you, so close that you’re tempted to take his hand in yours, let him carry you away. burn everything else to the ground. 

(you think of the serpent. you think of god.

only one of them banished eve.)

”so,” he smiles. ”what do you say?”

[stingray-art]

Weston College P4 “Drudges”

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Detectives at the Disco (Elysium)

[theshadowrealmitself]

Human who works long hours alone (workaholic, enjoys it) but their superiors are worried about them being so isolated so they force them to take a vacation and try to go to a single’s space cruise

But before they get on the ship, they accidentally literally run into a Vulcan who’s headed back to their home planet to die because of pon farr, but when they realize they’re compatible with the Human, they desperately explain what pon farr is and asks them to join them for it so they don’t die

And the Human is like “that…sounds so much better than a month long cruise in some tiny cabin where I have to keep interviewing person after person to find someone to date, yeah I’ll completely skip it to go with you to a planet I’ve never been on for marathon sex and a guarantee that we’re compatible” much to the Vulcan’s surprise

So they end up going home with a spouse and their superiors are like “that’s not what we said to do?? you just had to find a date??” and the Human’s like “you’re impossible to please >:/, anyways I found someone who will technically never leave me alone (bond), so there’s no reason for me to ever take a vacation again to socialize”

But their Vulcan spouse gets even more concerned when they’re not taking care of themselves and does a much better job of making sure they take constant breaks than their superiors

[shrikeseams]

...so does Gandalf's fight with the balrog make Gandalf a kinslayer? 🤔

[brother-emperors]

lmao the rival dynasts are fighting and they're fucking it up for everyone else at a record pace

this tweet made me laugh, and I frequently make political comparisons between these specific groups of people, so now it's finally a comic

regarding the OctavianOctaviaAntony Uniteam Alliance

Octavia Minor and the Transition from Republic to Empire, Katrina Moore

in the red panel, which is an obvious anachronistic soup of events happening all at once: we have on the left: messalla corvinus

Alternative Memoirs: Tales from the ‘Other Side’ of the Civil War, Kathryn Welch

and then octavia (in despair & weaponizing that sacrosanctity to turn rome against antony), some kids (the two closest to antony are the twins, but tbh you can just kind of. pick whoever from the soccer team of kids antony had)

octavian and antony's back and forth is referencing suetonius augustus 68 and 69 (specifically: Antony also writes to Augustus [...] "What has made such a change in you? Because I lie with the queen? She is my wife. Am I just beginning this, or was it nine years ago? What then of you — do you lie only with Drusilla? Good luck to you if when you read this letter you have not been with Tertulla or Terentilla or Rufilla or Salvia Titisenia, or all of them. Does it matter where or with whom you take your pleasure?") and also the whole. thing. about antony's will. that sure was something.

the herod comment from kleopatra is referencing all of this

Mark Antony: A Biography, Eleanor Huzar

AND FINALLY. the art in the inset panels are from The Roses of Heliogabalus, Lawrence Alma-Tadema

⭐ places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app / tip jar!

[remyfire]