So as a fellow sukugo shrine sweeper, I feel like I have to share this with you first:
That's it. It was over. They all watched as Gojo fell to the rubble beneath his feet. Shallow, raspy breaths and the gurgling of blood would only be poetic in a moment such as this.
"You fought well, my sorcerer." Sukuna's words weren't a verbal sneer. He stated it as fact, therefore it was so. He walked to the highest pile of former buildings and sat down. "I will give you a choice, Satoru Gojo. You die here and now, or you can crawl to me. After all, it would be a shame to lose you. You've taught me something that no one else could."
Everything was shaking. It was too much but nothing at all. Gojo could only cling to the voice in front of him, to the eyes of the god before him. Crawl, Sukuna had said. What did he have to lose? The world was fucked either way, and he had caused so much destruction.
The refuge in his audacity had run out.
The refuge ahead was still here. Just a few steps away.
Stumbling was something he didn't think was possible when crawling. He never had to worry about it before.
A clawed hand raked through his blood crusted hair. If he wasn't using the king of curses as a bedrock for his sanity, he might have been startled.
"There we are, Satoru. I'm glad you made the right decision. Come here, and I will tell you what you taught me." He pulled Gojo between his legs and the sorcerer laid his head on the other's leg. He felt Sukuna healing his wounds right under his fingertips, and gasped as it overflowed into his bones.
Not quite healing, but more a brand. A mark of victory, pouring into his cracked cup of a body. He felt Sukuna filling every empty space, not just his mind, but his physical form as well.
He didn't know when his eyes had closed, but Malevolent Shrine was kinda hard to miss.
"Why so quiet all of a sudden?"
"It's not empty anymore. It's quiet." Was it always this dark?
"Your six eyes caused that void. I removed the problem. Made you whole. You were born rare, but also broken. Empty. I suspected that was what was wrong with you, but... you don't have to worry about that now."
"Explains why everything is so fucking dark."
A barking laugh came from above him.
"A small price for me filling your void."
"Careful now, I'm already on my knees." Gojo wise cracked. "But what did I teach you?"
"Love." That's... not what he was expecting. " You and I are very similar. That is the reason why our fight was as fulfilling as it was destructive. We fill and heal the void that makes us restless... but only you can give that to me. Just as I will be the only one for you."
The curse lifted him up onto his lap, and Gojo gently examined his remains of his eyes. Gone.
"When they regenerate, they will be no different than normal eyes, little sorcerer."
"When??"
"I would prefer if my love could see me." Gojo parted his lips to speak, but an insistent press of lips took the words from him.
When they parted, Gojo could only formulate one solid question:
"What would I see, Sukuna?"
The god holding him, his grin unseen, leaned back into his throne.
"That I alone...
...am the exalted one."
Sorry if this is really long or seem ooc, I was vibing to Neoni and things happened. I hope you enjoy though!!
AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHFHJASHDKJASHJDSHGKLFHGLKSDHFKLDHGLKHGSDKLHFASKLJFKLHSKDFJAKLJASKLDJGLSHDLFJAJFASKFA
sorry i just. i need a fucking moment. IAUGHKDGAJFHKJLJASDLAJFKADKASÑ IM SCREAMING
THANK U SO SOSOSOOSOS MUCH FOR SHARING THIS IT'S SO GOOD AND IM NOT OKAY FUCK
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If my mom sees a significant amount of blood she gets lightheaded, and has fainted on some occasions. Once it happened when we were kids, I wasn't there to witness it but I heard the story from my dad. Basically my brothers, around 7 or 8 at the time, were playing outside while my mom was making their lunch, and she accidentally cut her finger. It wasn't anything serious, but it drew a fair bit of blood and she passed out. My dad saw this and rushed over, but he didn't really know what to do so he just sort of started slapping her to wake her up (not recommended, but he had no idea and panicked)
At that exact moment my brothers both came in from playing, and all they saw was our mom unconscious on the floor and our dad slapping her. So, like, without even saying a word to each other they both just INSTANTLY start whaling on him, like, full blown attack mode to defend our mom. Which obviously didn't help the situation, but she did wake up and everything was fine.
Now our dad says that he's actually really glad they attacked him over what they thought was going on, because it means he raised good boys. And I still think that's true, they're very good boys.
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Guys.
Y’all.
I…
I just. I just… i have discovered something. And I have laughed too much. I have laughed every time I have tried to explain it to someone. I cannot get through this.
Look. Okay.
There are two things you need to know, here.
First: There’s a style of Greek pottery that was popular during the Hellenic period, for which most of the surviving examples are from southern Italy. We call them ‘fish plates’ because, well, they’re plates, and they’re decorated with fish (and other marine life).
Like this one, currently in the Met:
Or this one, currently in the Cleveland Museum of Art:
They’re very cool. We’re not 100% sure what they were for, because most of the surviving ones were found as grave goods, but that’s a different post.
The second thing you need to know is that when we (Classics/archaeology/whatever as a discipline) have a collection of artefacts, like vases, sculptures, paintings, etc. and we do not know the name of the artist, but we’re pretty sure one artist made X, Y and Z artefacts, we come up with a name for that artist. There are a whole bunch of things that could be the source for the name, e.g. where we found most of their work (The Dipylon Master) or the potter with whom they worked (the Amasis Painter), a favourite theme (The Athena Painter), the Museum that ended up with the most famous thing they did (The Berlin Painter) or a notable aspect of their style. Like, say, The Eyebrow Painter.
Guess what kind of pottery the Eyebrow Painter made?
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people are drawing Steamboat Willie Mickey doing all this crazy shit and whatnot, but you could always do that. you can do that now, with current Mickey, just fine. it's fanart and it's legally protected. hell you could take Disney-drawn Mickey and put a caption about unions or whatever on it and it would still be protected under free speech and sometimes even parody law.
what is special about public domain is that you can SELL him. you could take a screenshot and sell it on a tshirt. you can use him to advertise your plumbing business. people have already uploaded and monetized the original film.
you could always have Mickey say what you want, but now you can profit off it.
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i jumped out of bed in a cold sweat to make this
id: first image is the tumblr halloween icon, which depicts a skeleton-like ghoul in a spooky red robe. the second image is the same ghoul, now photoshopped to look like they're dabbing. end id
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