#i need to sleep. and process this

[constantlyquestioningg]

i finished. catching up. ha. haha.

[linipik]

Hunk with Samoan-style tattoos, they feel very at home in him ☀️

[collophora]

@devinsisland apocalypse AUs, but it's just chill gardening between two raids outside to scavenge seeds

[suntails]

🐙⚔️

[pensherosjourney]

jo scores the game tying goal with 8 seconds left! ft. love, jubilation, and vengeance | sabres @ avs, 3 january 2025

[muxas-world2]

Workplace so weird they will have a 30yerld being all besti besti whit 20s and sobay ex son (they look so cute)

[spooky-activity]

Probably just mangling the body to be SURE she was dead, and not doing a cannibalism. Right? Right???

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[ryuki-draws]

I miss my son, Tails

[backpackingspace]

Athena: trying to have a deep philosophical reunion with odysseus

Odysseus: interrupting Athena no offense but this is not as important as seeing my wife

[echo-of-the-eye]

Can’t stop thinking about Viktor and Jon parallels cause I have tma brainrot and anytime I see anything even remotely similar I go “is that a magnus reference?”

Anyways thinking about the differences in the choices they did and did not make and how both of them came back from the dead and were involved in ending the world.

I talked a bit about it before but Jon chooses to come back to life and become a monster. Granted it wasn’t a fair choice but he did choose it. Meanwhile the end of the world was not his choice. As much as he thinks otherwise it was not his fault. He didn’t “accidentally” start the apocalypse, he wasn’t “manipulated into it” he straight up did not end the world. Jonah did. Using Jon. Yes he was manipulated to prepare for the ritual (still not his fault), but actually ending the world? Jonah did that. He straight up took control of his body. Jon was the tool. The key to open the door. Jonah shaped the key and turned it.

Viktor is the opposite. He did not choose to come back to life. In fact he had basically accepted his death and was actively suicidal. Jayce brought him back (and I don’t really blame him for that. He didn’t know the consequences and he was trying to save the man he loved). Viktor did however, almost end the world (and succeeded in some timelines? I’m confused). Now it’s hard to say how much of that was Viktor. He was heavily influenced by the arcane, but Jon was also heavily influenced by the Eye (not that you can really compare them). We don’t know how sentient the arcane is but we can guess that its main goal/instinct is to spread. If it worked through Viktor or if it was simply influenced him, altering his thoughts and feelings to more easily rationalize what he was doing. Either way Viktor would not have done what he did without the arcane. But he did do it. The arcane isn’t a person. You can’t really put all the blame there. And we did see that Viktor was still in there, deep down, enough that he could change his mind. Meaning that to a certain degree, he did choose it. Viktor’s actions were his own, even if they were influenced. He’s the most responsible for what happened. Jayce also carries some responsibility for bringing Viktor back in the first place and creating hextech alongside Viktor, but again, he did not know the consequences of that. Neither did Viktor at first. So how much are they to blame?

I just find it fascinating how such similar events (even if they are still vastly different) happen in two completely different series and how the characters had different levels of agency throughout it.

[spoiledmilks]

I drew this instead of sleeping like a normal person

[carlyraejepsans]

Halfway to the sofa, they stopped, making a small sound like a grumble of annoyance. For a second, the red glow in their eye grew faint. "Sleep," they rasped out in a low, halting whisper, "I saved you an ache in the neck." It took him a second to register that the kid wasn't talking to him. Mostly 'cause Frisk didn't speak. To him. Or ever.

Sans wakes up late into the night and sees something he shouldn't have.

[assmaster-8000]

𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒐 ✧

✧ Regret

✧ Rememberance

✧ Reunion

✧

All men are equal in death. To Clotho, such is their reigning tenet.

And to Clotho, a man like them sheds no tear for the departed. A necromancer need not fear death, for it is a cycle devouring upon itself, and they are the ringmaster of this primal instinct. As in— need, should, must. One must not fear, one must not ache or pine or rage. A snake is still a snake. Death is still a wild animal. Show your soft palm within the ribcage of your fist, and it will not yield to you. Clotho, for all their cool expertise, knows this through trial and error.

All men are equal in death. So this mantra becomes their epitaph for every sentiment buried under the grave of their tongue.

It's a corpse beneath the floorboards; this memory. The tremble in their fingers - the shortness of breath. Their prized coherence pooling out their ears like brains on a sidewalk. Black is all they've known the world to be, but this time it is blue. Saliva spilling past the shore of her lips. Piercing red lightning streaking through the sky of her eyes. She does not respond when they shake her. By God— what have you done?

All men are equal. Their mother was no man, no monster. Mother, simple and sweet, was cruel enough to damn her. As they were.

Their tears come soft on the linen of her robes. She is softer still. The used crowd of spellbooks and artifacts and alchemical instruments behind them laugh hollow at the display. Wire is taut, so is cloth. Neither will hold them now, after destroying the muscle that stretched to cradle their wretched self. So they bind her in her day shroud. And they bury her in the belly of the primordial Mother.

On her grave, they plant a singular Asphodel. Their one specimen.

And when they shakily kneel back to look down at the mount of soil, for a moment - just a moment, their nails slip back beneath the dirt. Back to where home was.

A moment was all it took. Soon as it comes, they rip it out her shabby resting grounds and lay it on their crown. That brain-shaped gilded mausoleum of theirs. So it has remained all this while - so has she, with that memory just as equal as a dead man.

But you know they never stay where they're supposed to for long.

In the land of the dead, asphodels are for the gray in between. They are the sustenance of the dead. They are my regrets, following you to the grave. O, Mother. You raised a walking corpse. As long as I hold you in my heart, the grave goes where I go; and dead men tell no tales, so... I love you. Isn't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

[kindahoping4forever]

Ash via Perola Navarro's IG Story

[lovethisfatcryptid]

I'm so tired and stoned I can't tell if this picture is blurry or if my eyes won't focus but either way I need you to kiss me until I fall asleep please

[fmk-polls]

Ask box is open and I am taking poll suggestions