#I had a long shift

[hyperrbole]

some drawings for my own personal AU based off of a couple of conversations with @krillford ! ! ! !

[cheezdoodelz]

The blade is your implement. You'll need it if you want to do this right.

hit the slay button!!!

[flowerbloom-arts]

That one ending where the Stranger was your first Princess.

[nocturnalfandomdoodles]

whatever happens now, we're where we belong

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

None of our hands are clean

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[camncheesesandwich]

oh look its happy pride month for @howtonerdoutovereverything pnf art challenge

day 44: pride

the danville pride festival is obvi one of the most spectacular ones thanks to the flynn-fletcher siblings

[petricorah]

scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]

[ungato-con-internet]

<3

[dunmeshiminimumwage]

[flickering-nightfall]

boop

[ranticore]

i think relatively recently like as recently as last year my interest in fictional settings & fantasy shifted hard away from original creature design and spec bio and worldbuilding minutiae and more towards creating stories i find interesting instead and building it all out from that using allegory. the story with kettle and lucky is about funny imps but it's also about the "ethics" of consigning your best friend into a form of sexual slavery if doing so would save his life. ditto ironwall is about christianity and not centaurs. and siren is about the 'don't let me go near any bridges or tall structures or i'll jump' stage of doing a PhD

[chasing-chimeras]

“and if heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied / and illuminate the "no”s on their vacancy signs / if there's no one beside you when your soul embarks / then I'll follow you into the dark” – i will follow you into the dark by death cab for cutie

Vacancy Signs by @lovelylittlegrim

Even in the midst of hell, Liam now knows what heaven looks like. It’s a full-sized bed with a soft blanket and a mountain of pillows. Liam is two seconds away from just face diving straight into it and passing out when there’s a knock on his door. He gives the bed a longing look and then sighs heavily, trudging to the door…

“Thanks.” “Night Wolf-Bait.” “Yeah. Night.” The room is too quiet. It’s just him in here, his own breathing, and slow heartbeat.

“Why aren’t you angry?” “What will it accomplish?” They sit there in silence for hours, Theo dozing in and out of sleep. Liam watching over him. 

“Don’t be scared.” “I'm not scared.” “Yes you are.” Liam doesn’t know where he is, just knows the air here is frigid.

“You look like shit.” “I missed you.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.” “Well, I’m a very missable person.” “That’s not even a word.” “How do you know, you suck at crosswords.” The night doesn't seem so dark or quiet anymore.

“You really need some new shoes.” “I’ll add them to my shopping list.” “You do that.” “Don’t die on me, okay?” The world is dark around Liam, but warm—warmer than it’s been in months.

…He pulls it open and finds Theo standing on the other side.

[damianito]

"Aaaa" is 15!Chuuya is showing 15!Dazai yo-yo tricks. Dazai with a child like amazement while Chuuya looks prideful.

"Assffg" is multiple doodles of Hirotsu dealing with Catzai & Chuunya.

[shiftingwitholive]

guys is it normal to feel like i'm having fucking withdrawals or something from not seeing my s/o

[idiot-mushroom]

guys i just finished my first shift at my first job, could you guys congratulate me.

[madbard]

Thinking about how the Long Quiet outsources change. As the embodiment of stagnancy, it was never meant to exist on its own, never meant to exist as sentient being which, by necessity, must adapt and change to survive. And it handles this by creating the Voices, mental embodiments of trauma responses and attitude shifts and altered worldviews and everything else, externalized advisors embodying the changes it cannot personally undergo.

It accepts these Voices as guides because it needs them, but it refuses to be altered itself. Each princess and each story bring with it a physical change that horrifies it, and every time, it resets those changes, kills the new voices and returns to its original state. Theoretically, it stays the same as it always was.

But still. As it continues forth, it can’t help but remember. With each story, memory returns. Against its will, against its very nature, it changes, because it isn’t only stagnancy. There is a splinter of the Shifting Mound in there as well.

Thinking about how the Princesses exist as mere facets of the Shifting Mound, how the Shifting Mound is scattered among them because personhood requires a certain amount of stability and stagnancy that she cannot perform all at once. How the Shifting Mound cannot exist as a single, stable perspective because even the continuity of thought is contrary to the concept of change and destruction and evolution and death, expanding always and infinitely and away.

She pulls herself together from limited experiences and ideas, rejecting the possibility of being any single person.

But still. At the end of each story, she greets the Long Quiet, offers it comfort and company in the way she knows how. The progression of their relationship, though it is by necessity a story of change, is also a tale of repetition and familiarity. The Long Quiet asks the same questions. She gives different answers. But it is ultimately the same conversation, again and again. And she is capable of that because she is not just the Shifting Mound – there is a sliver of the Long Quiet in there as well.

And the Shifting Mound is only able to reform itself because the Long Quiet makes different decisions each time, bringing her fresh perspectives – because despite being the manifestation of stagnancy, there is a piece of the Shifting Mound to motivate it. And the Long Quiet is only able to try and remain stagnant because the Shifting Mound is able to wipe its memory and reset it – because despite being the manifestation of change, there is a whisper of the Long Quiet to stabilize her.

They weren’t meant to be separated. They weren’t meant to be sentient. As separate beings, they fail. As separate beings, they greet each other with violence and hunger and desperation – the fury of their essential conflict warring with their frantic desire to be reunited, to never have been torn apart. Two people who never wanted to be people. Two people who want to be the same thing and try again and again to join themselves together through bloodshed and love.

Movements synchronized, moving as one. As if they were still the same being because, in a sense, they are.

There is a reason they always appear to be dancing.