#And I have come with a peace offering

[crimsomcrystal]

My Narrator design be upon ye

Fun facts about him under the cut!

°He is unaware of the existence of his Timekeeper and Curator. °All the endings are scripted all by himself (With a few exceptions), and the Freedom ending has never happened despite it existing, as his Stanley refuses to go through with it. °This would lead you to believe he has control of his Parable, but it is a sentient being as well, and it decides wether to discard or confirm an idea (He is also not aware of this.) °TSPUD is still a WIP to him. °He can remember what happens after most endings. °Mf's vision is BAD, those glasses aren't there just for decor.

[snowthedemonfox]

Bunny ribunn?🥺

ribnnuy

[nalooksthrough]

Mark Chang having a terrifying encounter with the floating peace spheres.

[sysig]

Utterly Defeated (Patreon)

[s0fter-sin]

wooimbouttamakeanameformyselfere

[iedolon]

ENTRY 01: COMING TO TERMS WITH HIS ROLE.

even before he embarked on his orbit,  aphelios was predestined to become a warrior.  I’ll touch on this in a later post,  but ever since birth,  he was described as a child who was physically gifted  “like the moon of stone”  whereas alune was magically gifted  “like its spiritual reflection.”  the burden of expectation and greatness is a heavy fate that weighs down his shoulders and seeps its way into every little thing that he does;  being a normal child wasn’t an option for him when the priests had sung praises to their people of the turning tide meant to be theirs,  of a brighter future carved by these blessed twins. 

it has taken over everything he’s known and ever will know,  and stains his ability to receive help or care without thinking that it is meant for the assassin whose identity he adopts on the battlefield rather than for himself.  they are two sides of a coin,  always parallel and never intended to meet one another;  confrontation of these identities is prohibited and even more dire is the need for both to never stray.  that is where he will see his love,  in the venerable nobility of a hero,  the praises of the damned.  aphelios,  a mere man,  can find his heart elsewhere.

" the pressure to be exemplary weighed heavily upon aphelios. he practiced tirelessly with mystical moonstone blades, spilling his own blood in training so he could spill that of others to protect the faith. intense and vulnerable, he bonded deeply with his sister in lieu of any other friendships. "

and so he strives to perform his duties thoroughly,  seeks to secure the hopes and dreams ushered into their hands for the prospect of a utopia's freedom, and fears the day where they fail.  growing up,  aphelios and alune were surrounded by the notion that they were blessed,  that their very existence was a sign that something greater was on the horizon for the lunari.  that perhaps this was the mark of a new dawn outside of the ruined shadows they have been forced to simply survive in.  in his younger years,  he chased love and praise that was only given when he performed well,  when he worked tirelessly,  when he spent dusk till dawn marking the same motions in a dance that left his body bloodied and torn.  and every day,  he thought this would give them some sort of merit to be human.  perhaps if he showed how much he had grown,  how hard he had toiled,  that there would come a time where they would be told that they had worked enough. 

rest was never a promise fulfilled,  though.  often,  he couldn’t even return to the safety of the temple to talk to alune, to see her.  to be finished was a foreign concept:  there was always something more to learn,  something more to practice,  something more to perfect.  no,  he would rest when he died.

" his slashes followed arcs he had practiced for years until even he bled, training to the verge of self-destruction. "

to protect himself from growing jaded,  aphelios has learned to distance himself from his duty.  it’s simply a job to him,  one that is necessary and integral,  and the success of which earns his loved ones peace and safety.  to become numb is an idea far too dangerous to risk settling in his bones and to find understanding in it would turn into exhaustion and settle as resentment in an already weary man.  finding justification in the ways that his body crumbles with every task completed,  every hour practicing,  is something he finds easily in the comfort that it all will pass.  that this day is long,  but he will soon shed all responsibility and heartache come morning when he is finally given a moment to breathe.  

" he opens his mouth to thank you, but he sees your expression twist, though you try to hide it. you fight the fear, punching your shoulder where the Burning Ones’ spears cut through your cloak. trying to remember the pain. reaching for it. you don’t want to kill him. but you must. your face is too numb for you to feel the tears… instead, you feel mine. "

it’s also a point to note,  which i will dive a bit deeper into in a post about aphelios’ relationship with his faith,  that he is led by alune’s instruction.  solari targets for assassination,  as well as the continued reminders that it is their shared duty,  all culminate in the buildup of aphelios’ thoughts with his work as just that,  simply work.  a task to be completed,  a mark to be dealt with,  all in the name of striking at the heels of the forces that have such a firm hold on their peace.  in doing so,  it also prevents him from fully coming to terms with the sheer weight of life that he is taking away.  duty is his most potent anesthesia,  above even the noctum poison,  something that renders him unable to speak nor argue against before he has swallowed the flowers that leaves him mute.  silence is all that’s needed for an assassin,  anyway.  be a weapon and not the warrior,  think nothing of the mission,  and fear none but the master.

[sexygaywizard]

Found this delightful little coffee shop here in Graz I've been going to regularly and now as I'm about to leave in a week I find out they have a loyalty/punch card I could have fully filled out by now. RIP

[c0rpsedemon]

oh yeah. the reason why i decided to reread tbhk (and thus it was able to hit me like a truck this time around) was actually not bc of mitsukou going canon but actually bc i maybe accidentally started a tbhk book club w my kids at work and wanted to check the contents of it justttt in case before i put the books in their hands

[yellobb]

I love learning that my dad is a genocidal fucking maniac

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Seele (Honkai: Star Rail). Listen, I used to write her and I miss her a bit, and also: there's Belobog people around. And also, well, she's much more interesting than people give her credit for. Also, prepare for some 'rewriting', because Belobog's pacing in specific ways kind of blew a little bit much.

[sharkjumpers]

I'm literally a vessel for emotions that feel like some vague and distant dream. And my problem is I kick it away and get surprised when that works so that when I reach out to it after having kicked it away I wonder why I can't feel what I want to feel As if that is not my fault. <- He has to practice self-kindness but it is hard.

[thebirdandhersong]

.

[therealsophiependragon]

Zuko was looking at Katara, stance stiff yet somehow fidgety at the same time, an awkward precipice between stepping closer or turning away. His good eye was hidden from Yue, arrested solely by their shared friend, but the scar blazed across his left eye did little to conceal what hesitated behind it. 

Longing is a funny thing. To someone undiscerning, it feels something like grief, a hollowed-out cove in the middle of a person’s heart. But there’s hope in longing, too, a hope like strings fastened between the chasm of whatever loss struck it to the object of desire. Hope that can be a guide—or, stretched taut enough, a blade. 

Yue imagined Sokka, kept somewhere within the brick and weathered stone of this labyrinth that passed for a city. People kept and mocked by the spirits she had spilled into this world, tucked into crevices and clinging to the fabric of a space they were not meant to occupy. Of longing that cut like grief, and amber acid that tasted like strength. 

Something twinged in her chest, and her grip tightened inadvertently. Katara looked up. 

“I don’t know where Sokka is,” Yue repeated, as that string began to draw out, “but I think I know how to find him.”

[livvyofthelake]

we just do not give cassandra enough credit for just being the funniest person alive. she is SO funny…. she understands meta comedy in ways the marvel people could not even fathom if they tried. no one else is funny like cassie is funny…

[aeligsido]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Makino & Makino's Child (One Piece), Dadan & Makino (One Piece), Makino & Monkey D. Luffy & Portgas D. Ace & Sabo, Makino & Monkey D. Dragon, background Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks/Makino Characters: Makino (One Piece), Makino's Child (One Piece), Dadan (One Piece), Portgas D. Ace, Monkey D. Luffy, Sabo (One Piece), Monkey D. Garp, Monkey D. Dragon Additional Tags: Makino-centric, Badass Makino (One Piece), at least in spirit, Makino's Child is a Girl, and her name is Ann, Makino is Ace Sabo & Luffy's sister, Introspection, Mother Dadan (One Piece), even if it's in the past, Post-Time Skip, Canonical Character Death, Makino is a part of the Monkey D. family, Ann is adorable and i will stand by it, Makino is a Child of the Sea, just like everyone else in the family, except Dadan, Dadan very much dislike the sea, she's the odd one, Fictional Religion & Theology, aka the whole thing about the Sea, It makes sense when you read I promise, Traditions, Sea Traditions, the nonsense that being a D is, D Claims people, it's a thing, no beta we die like the context for this fic Summary:

"Makino hums, a watchful eye on her daughter. She's wiping some tables clean, and Ann is now babbling fervently at Dadan.

There's something to be said, Makino thinks, about the imposing and harsh woman, and the way she melts in front of babies and infants. She has been the same with Ace, all these years ago. The thought tightens her heart, like it always does. She doesn't try to banish it; her little brother deserves to be remembered. To be mourned."

 OR: Makino longs for the sea and her brothers. And maybe for freedom, too.

[momocicerone]

coming back to tumblr is giving me whiplash and now i realize why no one on discord could ever get my humor since i've been conditioned to speak in ooga booga yet there i was expecting discordians to be fluent in memes