#its Mikhail

[raddestrose]

That little Gojo Deku hybrid is a conniving one isn’t he

[soracities]

Dunya Mikhail, Diary of a wave outside the sea (trans. Elizabeth Winslow & Dunya Mikhail) [ID'd]

[medicsbigburlychest]

They’re married, your honor. Medic’s hands have LITERALLY been inside of Heavy before. ;-;

[drkcatt]

MY WIFE SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL

[galakteon]

some wonderful fellow asked me to draw miloradovich awhile ago, but the ask dissapeared in my inbox ahh😭☹️ either way! he’s one of my favorite generals and i’ve drawn him multiple times,,,, just haven’t shared them around online💕

rough sketchy drawing w/ hat and without)

[ruvviks]

The Dobrynin family is a corpo family through and through, rooted in Arasaka and Orbital Air going back by several generations; though their powerful position within the corporate world ends with the children of Nadya and Matvey Dobrynin. With Vitali and Daniil fired from Arasaka and Kang Tao respectively— the former indirectly getting his parents fired, too— and Roksana having refused to set foot within a megacorporation from the start, the family begins crumbling apart at the very seams when clashing interests lead to grudges, betrayal, and pointless acts of revenge. ↳ read the unrevised fic here if you're interested!

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @roseeway, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree;

@kanos, @swordcoasts, @ordinarymaine, @claudiawolf, @strafethesesinners

[stuckinapril]

Do you have any poetry recommendations? The poem poll made me realize that I like. ONLY know Iraqi poets. Like the only non-Iraqi poet I can name off the top of my head is Robert Frost

i'm literally hooked on poetry. even on days where i can't sit down to read a book, i try to consume at least one poem a day bc it keeps me sane. it actually does. i recommend signing up to one poem a day newsletters--those have been a game changer for me. as for recommendations, my favorite poems change every week, but current faves (whose authors i regularly go back to/are a good starting point) would be:

elegy for my sadness - chen chen (Who invented the word / “ennui”? A sad Frenchman? / A centipede? They should’ve never / been born. They should’ve seen me / in Paris, a sad teenage / exchange student. I was so sad / & so teenaged, one day my host sister / gripped my hand hard & even harder / said, SOIS HEUREUX. / BE HAPPY. & miraculously, / I wasn’t sad anymore. / All I felt was the desire to slap my host sister. / See, I was angry in Paris, which is clearly / not allowed. One can be sad in Paris (I was) / & one can be in love in Paris (I was not), / but angry? Angry in Paris?")

a pity, we were such a good invention - yehuda amichal ( "A pity / We were such a good / And loving invention / An aeroplane made from a man and wife / Wings and everything / We hovered a little above the earth")

like a small cafe, that's love - mahmoud darwish ("I say to myself at last / Perhaps she who I was waiting for / was waiting for me, or was waiting for some other man / or was waiting for us, and did not find him/me.")

bible study - tony hoagland ("Who knows, this might be the last good night of summer / My broken nose is forming an idea of what’s for supper / Hard to believe that death is just around the corner / What kind of idiot would think he even had a destiny?")

mother and child - louise gluck ("Why do I suffer? Why am I ignorant? / Cells in a great darkness. Some machine made us; / it is your turn to address it, to go back asking / what am I for? What am I for?")

america, america - saadi youssef ("We are not hostages, America, / and your soldiers are not God's soldiers... / We are the poor ones, ours is the earth of the drowned gods, / the gods of bulls, / the gods of fires, / the gods of sorrows that intertwine clay and blood in a song... / We are the poor, ours is the god of the poor, / who emerges out of farmers' ribs, / hungry / and bright, / and raises heads up high...")

the duino elegies (seventh elegy respectively) - rainer maria rilke ("Not only the devotion of these unfolded forces, / not only the paths, not only the evening fields, / not only, after a late storm, the breathing freshness, / not only approaching sleep and a premonition, evenings... / also the nights! Also the high summer nights / also the stars, the stars of this Earth! / O to be dead at last and know them eternally, / all the stars: for how, how, how to forget them!")

the endlessness - ada limon ("How was i supposed to feel then? About moving in the world? How could I touch anything or anyone without the weight of all of time shifting through us?")

psalm - adonis ("Open my memory and study my face beneath its words, learn my alphabet. When you see foam weaving my flesh and stone flowing in my blood, you will see me. I am closed like a tree trunk, present and ungraspable like air. Thus I cannot surrender to you.")

the war works hard - dunya mikhail ("The war continues working, / day and night. / It inspires tyrants / to deliver long speeches / awards medals to generals / and themes to poets / it contributes/ to the industry / of artificial limbs / provides food for flies / adds pages to the history books / achieves equality / between killer and killed / teaches lovers to write letters / accustoms young women to waiting / fills the newspapers / with articles and pictures / builds new houses / for the orphans / invigorates the coffin makers / gives grave diggers / a pat on the back / and paints a smile on the leader's face.")

[99999dmg]

smoking is bad for you guys

[petorahs]

furina being sunday and robins cousin is so true to my dream that when she meets everyone else they think shes adopted

on god also it fits into my hc where Misha's visual design seems like he could be from Fontaine (Lushaka is water planet so not that far fetched tbh).. and he looks an awful lot like Sunday & Robin too. so in my head they have a family tree that looks like this

[noxcaelestia]

Saw a cute mourning dove today 🕊️🎀

[elegyofthemoon]

ok i dont think this is anything related to the watchmaker and all that stuff, but i think its insane that the Family turns traitors into memory zone memes because the concept of the memory zone memes is just that they were created by the true Dreamscape and from the emotions of those within the Dreamscape

this was from the emoscape with Mr McCoy in Dewlight Pavilion, where he was ordered by the Dreammaster to turn his siblings, who were apparently selling information to the IPC about the Family, into memory zone memes, but now i'm wondering just how many people got turned into memory zone memes for being a traitor

I would have said too that maybe the Family - trying to seek out the traitor and the killer of the first Oak Family Head - framed the Watchmaker and possibly turned him into a memory zone meme as well, but the Family is trying to search for the Watchmaker so that's less likely the case. But I just love seeing how fucked up actually the Family can be AND getting more information about the Dreammaster since there really isn't much of anything

[evepolastrisgf]

KOROVIEV EDIT!! I REPEAT KOROVIEV EDIT 🗣️🗣️

the man of my dreams 🗣️💕🫶🏼 ( might i say the best koroviev adaptation but i might be biased)

[enden-k]

the amount of times i yelled and teared up and actually cried during this is jsut wahgh

[obsolete-stars-if]

Happy Anniversary

I know I'm late.... like over a month. LISTEN, it just slipped my mind. but to celebrate, how about a side snippet. The original anniversary is like, uhh 28th of May, but like.... it's only 1st July. gimme a break.

ANYWAY, i have been meaning to write this for some time now. But before chapter 8 came out, i couldnt and pushed it back a lot. and i finally had the motivation to do so. the next demon fight wont take me another year, so dw its not gonna be another anniversary snippet again.

So like... Mikhails POV of his fight. 1143 words, about 5min read time

“Mika..”, his voice sounds like it is about to break. It snaps you out of your frozen state. You haven’t seen him like this often, or before at all. "Are you abandoning General Vi? If you do now, her life shared with you is meaningless. Those who died for you, are meaningless. You will go out there and defeat the monster." Anyone else might have thought of it as an accusation. But you understand the meaning.

Save those who love you. Be good, defend your family, for they will die for you. It has always been like that. Your soldiers became your siblings at heart, the General as your father, General Vi has been a mother to you. Your kingdom was the home to protect, to make room to let all your family members spread their wings. As they deserve, and you’re turning your back on them. You really try to run away from them, the people who will die for you. Who love you more than any blood could offer. Who listened to your woes, celebrated your victories, and loved you in ways you never knew possible.  It is not an accusation, but a plea, from father to son. "You are not a soldier anymore, but you are their sibling, and you will defend your family." You know this all too well. You’re afraid your voice breaks if you speak, so you offer a nod.

He pulls you aside one last time before you return, he kneels to your height, and the folds that have scarred his face to nothing but anger and rage, turn into worry, it is way too much like…  “Do you remember my first battle?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He nods, “Saving you, it is haunting.” His hand travels to your hair, and he takes a strand and pushes it behind your ear, “But I do not regret it.” “Isko…” His name feels foreign in your mouth. “Now it is my turn to save you.” Isko lets out a soft breath, “You already have, my child.”

The fall back into the line is shocking, it feels like nature, being told where to stand, how to arrange yourself, get your weapon, and scan the fields. You never wanted to bring the war back home, you would smile through the pain, just to see your family, your people, happy for your return. And now you brought the war here. You wish you had flashes of those who died to your blade. But it has been too many to bother your mind.  You can’t have Adam in this mess, nor your siblings, let alone your spouse, you gave all up, swore to protect and submit to them, and you are the very thing threatening you.

The sound of the soldiers arriving travels not by air, but through the ground. It is just a show, you know it is, practiced movement, synchronized. And while it may strike fear into your people, watching them hide away, it has long lost its charm. What is training worth if you can’t bear to kill at the end of the day? When you stop right before you kill again, and the face of another young child clears in your vision, you decide that you cannot do this again. What was so special about the kid? Trying to recall their face is impossible, yet it feels so clear. And a whisper in the air reminds you, that you gave up on being a monster.

You dare to take a steadying breath. You’re not afraid, you haven’t been in years. The soldiers are children, you realize by nothing but their height. And the leader amongst them all, they stand at your height. Is that truly what it means to protect your family? To kill those who you’re stealing from. You don’t know. 

The sky is clear, the sun shining down on your skin, hot, burning you alive. This is nothing like the winters you spend up north. Those behind you stir when they realize what you already have. Children soldiers. And when you cross glances with it, it is the visage of those you ended. You cannot let your heart ache, as much as it desires to, it is not about want, but need. You need to protect those you love.

You push ahead, it does not matter if you know their faces or not, for they have already died before. They can die again, die an amount you cannot count, if it means protecting those you love, you would not trade a world in which you were not a soldier.  In which you stayed home, and not became siblings with every person your blood rules over. You must serve your people. Your family.

You only stop at the leader, steadying your sword, and you watch it take the helmet off. His hair falls below his shoulder blades, hair a rich brown, and eyes much too like Isko, much too like your own.  Never have you seen him before, but it is like a mirror, to who you are, who could’ve been, or maybe what you avoided. He takes his time watching your face, drinking in how you became frozen. 

“What a poor replacement,” his voice is like silk, “You killed me for this?” “I have not,” You answer. But he is unfazed by you.  “You killed me.” He repeats, “You killed the memory by claiming it. You took all these children and denied them a future. You claimed parents, children, lovers, and friends, in the name of your parents, siblings, lovers, and friends. Not only did you destroy their family by fire and your blade, but so did you destroy your family.”

Lies, these must all be lies.

“You couldn’t even die for your family. Truly, a pitiful imitation.” But you did not mean to die for them, you just needed the agony to stop, the nightmares, the faces, the pain in your heart when you saw your sibling's corpses, felt their light leave their eyes as you continued to force magic into their body, as you tried to save them. You meant to save them. Save your family. And one day, you knew, you could only save them from this pain if you stopped.

“I am the only one to judge you by the blood running through my veins. Which you so desperately tried to copy, and you may steal my place, my appearance, but Isko only had one child.” He lifts his sword, “You have committed crimes of blood, Mikhail, your own, the one on your blade, and the one you tried to claim. The Gods have sent me to judge you. And I have found you guilty on all accounts.”

[CHOICE]

→ [“May you no longer betray blood, family, and love.”] → [“I have never betrayed my blood, family, or love.”]

[carnivalls]

new url... nobody look at her yet she's new in town and still deciding on if she'll stay

[retracexcviii]

Sunday Moon

Hi there dear fellows and Luna lovers, Sunday arrived.

Don't edit this drawing and don't post it anywhere.

This is one of the latest commissions I bought. The idea of having a happy blue moon portrait make me weak so I asked it to an artist I really like.

You can find his profile @/karyarief on Instagram.