Years ago, when you would read the novels that your mother had written, you wondered what those strange metaphors and comparisons meant. What did it mean when someone smelled like sex or tasted like death? At the time, you didn’t understand it. But now you do.
Dirk tastes like death on your lips. His breath is stale and his oxygen-deprived skin is a sickly blue as you pull away and stare down through the tears in your eyes. You know enough about biology to know that he’s been dead for hours now, no hope in revival, but that doesn’t stop you. You lean down and kiss him again, resulting in the same stillness behind his tangerine eyes.
You wipe off the remnants of your dark lipstick on the back of your trembling hand, as if the makeup was some sort of barrier stopping his revival. You kiss his dead lips again, and again, get no result.
“Dirky? C’mon man, wake up.” Your voice is shaken and weak, and a sound that is something between a sob and a laugh escapes your throat. You shake his shoulder.
“Enough joking, get up now…”
You’re not stupid, you know he’s dead.
“C-come on, Jake is waiting for his prince, ya know.”
God, you don’t have it in your heart to tell Jake about this.
“D-don’t make me kiss you again Dirky, I know how much you hate it.”
You could kiss him until your lips were chapped and bleeding, and it wouldn’t make a difference. He’s gone. Dead. Never coming back.
Your body folds over his, gripping the bloodstained fabric of his shirt as you shake and sob. Your tears stream down his cheeks, giving the illusion that he was the one crying, though you know Dirk would never let himself cry in front of you.
Once more, you kiss his dry lips and get the taste of death in your mouth again. It doesn’t stop you though, it won’t ever stop you. You’ll gladly hold onto this illusion until your own demise comes. The red miles are getting closer again, and you know it won’t be long. At least you can hold him in your arms and taste him against your lips as you sob out your last breath.
There’s a headcanon I’m kind of fond of that says Equius accidentally broke Nepeta’s spine early in their moirallegiance (because man, he just shouldn’t try to hug people) and her tail is a robotic extension of the one he built her.
(i never said it was a happy headcanon)
Somehow, that turned into an excuse to do some anatomy practice.
This is a little comic I made for TheOtakuSupreme for Giftstuck 2014 on AO3 a while back. It’s mirrored HERE in fullsize in case it’s too hard to read on tumblr.
The prompt was Roxy trying to get over her addiction and I’m not sure how well I portrayed that, but I had a lot of fun making this! Roxy is one of my favorites and it was sooooo great to get to focus on her for a while.
(Also sorry for no posts recently? I’m going to try to fix that now.)
