#God-sized Pages

[boy-interrupted98]

“No one gets into heaven clean.

We’ve been sold a front entrance—guarded by doctrine, polished by behavior, earned by discipline. But the front door was built for the perfect, and perfection is a myth engineered to keep you outside.

The real way in is through the back.

Through the cracks. Through the grief that unmakes you. Through the mercy that didn’t make sense. Through the addiction that taught you honesty. Through the breakdown that rewired your soul.

All the sacred ones stumbled in sideways.

The thief didn’t pray. He just confessed. The tax collector beat his chest and couldn’t lift his eyes. The woman with seven demons didn’t get healed in a synagogue. And Jesus—He broke the locks Himself.

Heaven doesn’t take applications. It receives collapse.

It doesn’t ask for credentials. It looks for surrender.

In Eastern Orthodox theology, salvation is theosis—becoming like God. Not by ascending, but by emptying. Kenosis. Self-pouring. You don’t rise. You pour out. That’s how you fit through the narrow way.

You want heaven? Start with the back door. The one behind the shame. The one behind the honesty you’ve never dared to speak. The one behind the forgiveness you still refuse to offer.

Heaven is not a prize. It’s a place only the undone can enter.

The back door’s always open. But it only opens inward.”

Floriano Melo in God-sized Pages

[obsob]

once more around the sun!! :3

[ferronite]

On Faded Gold and Starless Skies

Chapter 2: First Meetings

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(A/N: This one is uh. quite a bit longer than the last (read: 2762 words) but I don't think it came out too bad, especially considering most of it was written between the hours of 1 and 5am. Might be a bit clunky in places though, so I'll apologise for that in advance. Anyway as always feedback/comments are appreciated ^_^)

It was around three days after that meeting that I found myself loitering nervously outside an employee breakroom. The second meeting – or, well, briefing, I suppose – hadn’t been anywhere near as jarring as the first, just a more detailed explanation of what would be expected of me in this job.

…I guess it was a little strange to be spoken to as something other than just another nameless employee.

Well, anyway, the meeting was fairly uneventful. Honestly, it was pretty boring, but I had to pay attention anyway – it was all important information, after all. A lot of it just felt like disclaimers – we won’t have access to the majority of the fancy tech that the LCB do, we’ll receive less support than them; that kind of thing. We don’t get a driver like them, either – I’m expected to do that, apparently.

I didn’t even realise I could drive, if I’m honest.

Turns out I can, despite – well, everything. Guess I must’ve had a license before all this. We’re lucky I apparently didn’t forget everything, huh?

…At least our mode of transport is fairly normal.

None of that was what had me standing awkwardly in front of the door to a seemingly random breakroom at 10:59 am, though. No, that was because behind that door, inside that room, were the six people I would be working with for the entirety of our mission. The people I was expected to… well, manage.

And honestly? I was terrified.

What if something went wrong? What if they decided they didn’t like me, or that they didn’t want to listen? What would I do then?

But then, those were all hypotheticals. And you can’t find out what’ll happen if you don’t try.

So I let out a steadying breath in a crackle of static, and reached for the door.

Nobody in the room seemed to notice when the door swung open. But the quiet chatter in the room paused abruptly as it closed again with a thud, six heads turning to stare in its – and my – direction.

There was a brief but extremely awkward silence before someone mercifully spoke up.

“Um, are you… the person we were meant to be meeting here? The department manager, or something?”

[Well, I’d guess so. I was told to come here after-]

I paused at the confused looks around the room.

[Oh. Dammit. Wait a second.]

I could feel everyone’s gazes boring into me as I rummaged through my pockets in search of a notepad.

“Sorry about that. But yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m the person you were waiting for. You’re the other LCS members, right?”

I handed the notepad to the person who’d spoken, fixing them with what I hoped was a suitably sheepish look.

“Oh, well… that’s good, I guess? It’s nice to meet you-”

“Hey, why can’t we understand what you’re saying? If this guy actually is our manager, the bosses would’ve told us about this, wouldn’t they? …It’s not just me that’s hearing static, right?”

Somewhat awkwardly, I took back the notepad they offered me. Chatter surfaced around the room as I wrote.

“Oh, don’t worry, I can’t understand them either. It’s a little odd, isn’t it?”

“This can’t be them. They wouldn’t be dumb enough to give us someone who can’t even talk.”

“Man, this is stupid. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to those guys. Can we go?”

“…They’re writing. We should be quiet.”

The room fell silent as I handed the message back to the same person as before, buzzing nervously. They read my words aloud this time, rather unfortunately for me.

“Yeah, it’s… not great, is it? I’m very sorry about all this. I was told I’d form some kind of pact or contract or something with you all, and that it’d let you understand me, but, well. They never actually… told me how to do that? So I really don’t know what I’m meant to do here. I’m sorry.”

The room erupted into chaos.

Their voices pierced through me, rattling around in my head; merging, morphing and overlapping until I couldn’t hear any words, only an endless, horrible din that left me unable to think.

But through that awful noise, I heard someone trying to get my attention. I couldn’t make out their exact words, but… it sounded as though they were trying to calm me down. Was I panicking? I must’ve been.

So, I did as they asked. Tried to slow my breathing, and focus on something that wasn’t this. I pictured a cliff overlooking the City from a distance, stars glimmering in the clear night sky, the quiet breeze brushing past, a distorted figure standing on the cliff’s edge in front of me-

A searing pain shot through me, blinding me for a split second just as something dark rushed past me – or was it coming from me? – and I was left almost doubled over as the agony faded. At the very edge of my vision, I registered that everyone else in the room appeared to be in varying degrees of pain, as well; some were doubled over like I was, most of the others recoiling with pained expressions – though one seemed unaffected, save for their tight grip on their arm.

[Talk about an awful first impression…] I muttered to myself as I straightened up.

“Hey, at least it wasn’t boring!”

Everything seemed to grind to a halt as their words registered with me.

[Wait, did you-]

“Did I just- Can I understand you now?”

Huh. Well, I guess that’s how you make a contract. Wish they’d told me it’d hurt so much.

“Oh. Well… that’s a good thing, I guess?” The person I’d been giving my messages to spoke up. Now that everything was a bit calmer, (even if I was still a bit thrown by what had just happened,) I could recognise them from the files I had been given.

Wavy black hair, green eyes and glasses – this was Susan. 24 years of age, the second child of a fairly well-off Nestborn family, and an employee at an unspecified Wing before ending up here (apparently recruited directly from there, though that seems a bit weird.)

The files had contained a lot less information than I had expected, if I’m honest – most of their contents had been redacted when I actually read them properly.

Anyway, their file described them as being fairly reasonable and unlikely to cause any fuss – I could only hope that turned out to be true.

“Yeah, definitely a good thing! Hey there- I don’t actually know your name, but are you okay there? You aren’t looking too great.” The other person, a man with red eyes, responded.

Ah, that would be Leo. The hat would’ve given it away even if I couldn’t see his face. His file didn’t say that much, honestly – just that he was a high ranking Fixer, around 42 years old, and that whilst he was unlikely to object to my orders, his enthusiasm might cause problems.

He was looking at me oddly. Oh, right, he was talking to me.

[I mean it feels like someone just tried to peel back my skin with a pair of rusted pliers, snap my ribs, and pull out my heart with their bare hands, but I’ll probably be fine in a bit.]

“Well, if you say so!” He smiled, seemingly not about to push the matter any further, and returned to where he had been sat before everything happened, lounging with his arms draped over the back of the seat in a rather inelegant sprawl.

The others seemed to take this as their que to sit down as well, though the room remained quiet as everyone stared at me instead of talking to each other.

[Um. Hi?]

Silence.

[I’m so sorry about all of this. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything like this before, and I genuinely had no clue that would happen. I thought-]

“Man, is this really who they put in charge of this? Some nervous wimp with an ugly prosthetic? They should’ve picked me instead – bet I’d be way better at it!”

My awkward rambling was cut off by the woman draped across the largest sofa in the room, lying across it so as to take up almost the entire thing by herself. Blonde hair and quite an attitude (though I couldn’t exactly claim she was wrong); this had to be Lillian. According to her file, she was a Syndicate member who ran away after some unspecified incident (the details of this were redacted), aged 25, and was noted to be likely to reject my orders due to believing herself to be better, which… yeah, that seemed accurate.

My attempt to formulate a response to her was mercifully made unnecessary by the older woman who was perched elegantly on the seat next to Leo.

“That’s quite the rude thing to say to someone you’ve only just met. I’d tell you to apologise, but I know for a fact that you won’t.”

Judging by the poise, this must be Mary. The 38-year-old daughter of a wealthy company owner (though, once again, the specifics were redacted – this was starting to get annoying) who had been engaged to the heir to a major corporation. Whilst I’d thought she was a widow when I glanced at her file, it turns out her fiancé died just under a week before their wedding date; a murder, though the culprit was never found. She was described as “unlikely to outwardly give you any trouble”, whatever that means.

“Why would I? They haven’t done anything to prove me wrong, anyway!”

“You shouldn’t make assumptions about people you’ve just met.”

“Nobody’s stopping me, are they?”

Their bickering continued, with Leo soon joining in – though he did little more than escalate the situation. I backed away quietly, only stopping when I bumped into someone slumped on a chair behind me.

[Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there.]

“…Don’t worry about it.”

The blank expression would’ve given away that this man was Mint, even if the covered eye and heavy dark circles hadn’t. 29 years old, and an information specialist Fixer for a relatively small Office, having joined after some mysterious incident at the school he had worked at – presumably at the same time as he started using his pseudonym. (his old workplace and name were, as expected, redacted.) The notes on his file were mostly about his general lack of emotional response, though there was something interesting mentioned – a piece of advice that simply told me to keep him away from birds of the corvid variety.

[If you’re sure… hope I didn’t hurt you, though.]

“You didn’t. Wouldn’t have mattered if you had, though.”

Huh. Well, the file wasn’t lying.

I was cut off from my train of thought as the argument in the background grew louder. It was presumably my job as the manager to stop them, but would they listen?

Possibly sensing my discomfort, Susan attempted to intervene.

“Guys? Do you think that maybe-”

“Attempted” being the key word there, as their voice was easily eclipsed by the shouting of the others. They closed their mouth and stared quietly at their lap as I attempted to shoot them a sympathetic look.

I cleared my throat, with the intention of interrupting them myself.

[H-]

“Would you guys shut up?”

Before I could even get a word out, the final person in the room (and the only one to remain standing) snapped at the three, the force behind their words seeming to shock them into silence.

“Thank fuck. You have enough sense to be quiet, at least.”

Amaryn was an… interesting case. His file contained virtually no information – just an approximated age (around 28 years old), and a warning about his volatility, especially regarding his past. There was a specific notice to not ask about his blindfold under any circumstances.

They seem to be right about the anger, so I wouldn’t like to risk asking him for details. I did, however, figure I should take advantage of the silence.

[Well then, now you’re all quiet, I’m sorry that this hasn’t exactly been the best of first impressions.]

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”

[Anyway. I am, as you have likely guessed, the appointed Executive Manager of the LCS, Eris. As per the contracts, and to ensure that our mission is completed relatively smoothly, you are expected to follow my orders – though, if I’m honest, I know you are unlikely to do so willingly to begin with. However, I will not let you hold me responsible if you decide to ignore me and get yourselves killed as a result.]

Luckily, my near-constant rehearsal of my introductory lines had paid off in the end. The others (or Sinners, as I supposed I should call them – the higher ups evidently decided not to bother with a unique name) didn’t speak out whatsoever during my speech, and the looks they were giving me seemed less dismissive.

Well, most of them. Lillian was still staring at me with a good bit of disdain.

“Hm. You don’t seem entirely useless after all!” She said.

[…Thank you? I’m guessing you’ve all already been told about our department and mission, right?]

“Yeah, we have been-” Susan was interrupted mid-reply.

“We’re the reject crew, right? Not good enough for the main one so they shoved us here instead.”

Well, that was one way to put it, but… Amaryn wasn’t exactly wrong.

“Hey! Isn’t that kinda rude, Ams?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Are you calling me a reject?”

Just as it was starting to look as though yet another fight was going to break out, a sharp tone rang out from my pocket, cutting through the argument before it could begin in earnest. Everyone turned to stare as I dug out my phone.

The message contained two main pieces of information. One, someone had requested another meeting with me for some unspecified purpose, and two…

[Well, guys, looks like our Department has been fully approved – we’re going to be setting off in two days.]

“That seems rather quick. Are there any other details?”

[Not really, just that we’ll all be informed of the specific time later, and that I should remind you all that you will be expected to wear your company uniforms during all active hours once we’ve left.] Nobody had worn their uniforms to this meeting, myself included – I’d been specifically instructed not to, in fact, though I didn’t know why.

“Was that all? They… didn’t mention anything else?” Mary had an unreadable expression on her face – perhaps she was disappointed by how the Company was organising things?

[Nope. Is there something they should’ve told me?]

“Oh, no, nothing. I just thought it was a little odd that they sent you a message just for that.”

Hm. Okay.

“So, uh, now what?” Leo asked.

Good question.

[I guess we just wait for them to send the details through? I should… probably be heading off in a minute, though – someone just requested a meeting with me in half an hour.]

“Oh, really? Shame, I would’ve liked to talk to you! But yeah, makes sense.”

I would’ve liked to talk to everyone properly as well, honestly. But…

[Well, we’ll all have plenty of time to get to know each other once we’ve set off!]

“That’s a good point! Remind me to tell you about my trip to District 24 next time I see you!”

I heard a quiet, exasperated sigh from somewhere in the room.

[Alright, I will,] I said, turning to leave, [But I really should be going now. I’ll see you all in a couple of days.]

Various goodbyes could be heard as I left, some sounding rather more enthusiastic than others. Mint seemed to be staring at me as I closed the door, though when I tried to get his attention his gaze dropped to the floor once more.

I contemplated the “meeting” as I walked slowly down the corridor.  Sure, it hadn’t exactly been the most stellar of first impressions, and the group seemed to get into arguments concerningly easily, but… it honestly didn’t seem to be nearly as bad as I had been fearing.

In fact, I was almost hopeful. Perhaps with a bit of time (and some potentially life-threatening excursions), we could grow to be an actually functional and cohesive Department.

…It’s probably better to not let myself get too confident there, though.

(The figure in my dreams was staring at me, this time. Their face blurred when I tried to get a better look.)

[sobredunia]

oh my god I just found the first animation I've ever done in digital

I did this in 24fps because i didn't know how to make the rate slower. also the tiny cat following me is Honey! :D she used to be very small. and follow me around. so yea

@rotkad @sansxfuckyou @7hefear @beetroot-merchant @ashingtonkisihita

@h3xt0r @bree-sae @helloidkwhatimdoing-0 @zecrisketch @princelyre

[thatfriendlyanon]

yayayayayay!!!

[ask-thearchivists]

Earth is a terrestrial planet, despite 70% of it's surface being covered in water. It has a molten iron core, and has existed for about 4.5 billion years. It's the third planet out from it's star (a yellow dwarf).

The Cartologist: Oooh, interesting, is there more?

The Cartologist: Oh, is that what the song about cheese comes from?

The Coordinator: Yes, mortal planets that have had life for a long time do tend to experience multiple extinction events, which is one of the reasons it is important we tend to our duties.

[diceres]

it only took me 8 hours but CV DONE

[istherewifiinhell]

I love that I am seeing reading comprehension discourse cause it really is the most. Varied discourse you could have online and it is also self sustaining anytime [as discourses do] someone misinterprets another person. I mean particular on any part of the internet that is “I have to be the most correct person with the most profound and meaningful idealogical take”. Where that makes u a condescending pseudointellectual or an overly denfensive antiintellectual. And i would say neither role actually requires u to be able to read or have compassion for people with reading struggles.

[outeremissary]

Who wants to take my hand and become the other Fionil Dungeon Meshi enjoyer

[mischievousmoony]

27 pages until my next “fruit” chapter and it’s only NINE PAGES LONG 😭😭😭😭😭

the prince and kimuras chapters have both been SO long compared to nanao (ladybug) and lemon/tangerine’s and are their stories super interesting? yes. but I NEED MORE LEMON AND TANGERINE

[boy-interrupted98]

“Every person you meet is a slow-motion collapse. Smiling. Functioning. Posting. Dying.

The soul doesn’t scream. It whispers—so softly you need silence to hear it. But silence terrifies us. So we fill it with noise, distraction, theology, ambition, routine. We stay busy so we don’t have to read what’s been written inside.

Because deep down, many have already quit.

They haven’t ended their lives. They’ve just stopped living them.

They stay in the marriage but never touch. They show up to work but haven’t dreamed in a decade. They bow their heads in prayer but haven’t believed in years.

This is the soul’s suicide: slow, civil, socially acceptable.

You can’t measure it in blood, but you can see it in posture. In eyes that have turned into windows no longer cleaned. In laughter that doesn’t rise from the gut. In art that used to be sacred, now shelved.

The existentialists weren’t pessimists. They were honest. Kierkegaard called it despair—the sickness unto death. Camus called it absurdity. A silent war between meaning and meaninglessness.

And Freud? He called it Thanatos—the death drive. A pull toward unbeing that fights the urge to persist.

But here’s the secret: the soul doesn’t want to die. It wants to be seen.

Every suicide note is a love letter written to silence: “Please, notice me before I disappear.”

Your soul has probably been writing drafts for years. Every time you lied to protect an image. Every time you said “I’m fine” when you were breaking. Every time you stopped creating because it wouldn’t be perfect.

This is not about dying. This is about waking up before you do.

Burn the suicide note. Write a resurrection instead.”

Floriano Melo in God-sized Pages

[3lizab3t]

Saturday i finished my keychain album that actively devalues everything im near

[bimidna]

nothing will induce rage faster in me than trying to do literally anything in adobe acrobat

[vampyriix]

they should make webcomics that are easy to make i think

[lensdeer]

[computer smoking behind me] Haha yeah I'm something of an optimizer myself

[devotedlystrangewizard]

i have a little sketch page of just my oc & horus (& meme abaddon) but im allergic to drawing bald people so its a cunty little guy and also a stick figure / wide headless entity