juvenescent
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What you're doing is wrong. You know it's wrong. It's so wrong that it has literally broken the scale of things that are wrong and it's floating off in this space of things that are just-- wrong. Everything is completely wrong.
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You wish you could lobotomize yourself.
To feel shocks force your body to convulse until your consciousness blacks out. Your limp eyes will be met with the tender press of an ice pick right through the socket. You could lose one of said eyes, or maybe you could just plainly die, but while your brains get scrambled you’ll know it’s by the hand of the most intelligent person you know. You’d lie there, limp and drooling and empty as though you just got the best fucking of your life, the only difference being that you’d never have to feel the rush of your own awareness hit you. There’d be no post nut regret, no pain of being left, only the trickle of blood from the point of entry and a bit of spit leaking down your chin.
You will destroy yourself, for you are the only one with the power to do it completely and with the greatest satisfaction. You will crush yourself into the clay the Prometheus used to create humanity and finally be free from all of the things that are coiling around your throat and keeping you from breathing.
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They meet in NYC, Dave's home turf as much as anything they attribute to themselves could ever be called theirs. Dave is five foot nothing with an ego the size of the stage. He walks with a palpability Dirk wants to run his tongue over, dyes his hair black but leaves his eyebrows a curious too-translucent white; or perhaps he's just a start-up douchebag who thinks he's hot shit for bleaching his brows.
- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by juvenescent
21 Jul 2026
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It's not hard at all to love Dave Strider. He's weird, but he's brilliant, a genius even, smarter than people probably gave him credit for, looks like a million and one dollars in a suit, and can name every actor from the cast of the original Star Trek, and secretly likes tea over coffee, but he's got everyone wrapped around his pretty little fingers. Especially you. You really aren't surprised.
Bookmarked by juvenescent
15 Jul 2026
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Dirk accompanies his brother for his first Academy Award win, and all the world is watching. It’s too bad Dirk can’t bring himself to look up.
TT: Don’t get me wrong, Hollywood loves a success story, but it tears the fuckin’ flesh off of its fallen angels. Nobody likes an Icarus tragedy.
TT: By that I mean Icarus is Dave and his wings are made of slicked-up underaged foreskin.