#Have this I suppose

[radiance1]

Shade of Despair and personification of War.

Pariah Dark only knew war.

Throughout both life and death, was he hardened by it. The thrill of battle, the whirlwind of blood and steel, the sound of metal clashing against metal and sheer satisfaction at the end of it all.

He was among the first, the very few that came with the expanse of the infinite itself. He belongs to it, and it laid an inexplicable claim upon him and the others that were born with him.

He did not know much, then. But he knew he had a purpose, one that called for something, something that laid out of reach for himself then, and not something he could've gotten from the infinite at that moment.

They were not connected to each other, despite coming into existence at roughly the same time. They had their purposes, and they fulfilled them, for at that moment they knew they only existed that singular purpose alone.

Except, he didn't.

So he left.

He was 'alive' in a rough sense of the word. He was not birthed, thrust into life as so many that came before and shaped the infinite from their beliefs. Yet he walked among them all the same.

He searched for his purpose, not understanding humanity's many values and woes, how they could live their lives without having a predetermined purpose of their own, yet he found himself feeling just the tiniest of similarity to the mortals, for they did not know their purpose.

So did he.

Then, he chanced upon it.

War.

It called to him, sang its sweet and bloody call of despair and hope to his ears, throughout his body, circling around his core and suddenly he saw it, knew it.

His purpose.

He sang the song of war, furthering its melodies and corralling others to be entranced and caught in its endless web.

He sang its song throughout all walks of life, as a peasant, a humble farmer, a hardened soldier, a noble, a king, a warlord, the child of a god to some, and a living god to others.

It did not matter what he was at that very moment, he heard its call and sang its melodies until it came to its end, then moving onto the next.

He was a blade crafted for war, hardened through its many battles and carelessly soaked in the blood of many and being one of many molded to its sweet song until he could be called a masterpiece.

Then it came to an end.

He was a fool, who believed that war would never end so long as he remained, so long as humans craved conflict.

But it did, and it left him confused, and surprised.

Humans found peace with each other. Something he never thought possible, something he didn't believe could be possible, but they reached for it, longed for it, and managed to obtain it.

He was not pleased.

There were only so many small skirmishes he could partake in before his hunger turned insatiable. He could sing its song, but with no others to join it could only last for a moment before ending as it began.

This. This was not something he expected, not something he could wrap his mind around.

Humanity lived it, breathed it, bestowed the secrets and his purpose upon him.

So how could they suddenly just stop as if it were no longer important? As if it were not just a part of themselves, something to satisfy and tame their ever-growing hunger and bloodlust?

Just as he left for the finite in the long before, he found himself roaming back to the infinite.

He came face to face with one of the first, Time itself. They were not enemies, nor were they friends, but they had an illusion of a link, of being among the first, what humans would call an 'old friend.'

Just as quickly and suddenly as time made itself known, so to, did it slip from his grasp.

What he saw from the infinite was not pleasing, nor did it leave him with a sense of dissatisfaction of any kind.

It just was.

They were much more than the first few, souls coming and out from the mortal plain, ghosts that formed from the infinite itself. Many upon many.

There was no order, perhaps an illusion of it, but an illusion it was nonetheless.

Just as the humans gave him war, did he bestow upon his home its sweet song.

He was conflict, he was bloodshed, he was the blade forged for, and perfected through war.

He was war's manifestation, and Fear became his tool, friend, and ally all in one.

Humanity bestowed upon him war, and he shall return their gift by reigniting its flame that went out inside each and every one of them by crushing that ideal of peace and make them descend back into the savagery and bloodshed of war.

He was war, and not all shared his ideals.

The fools, who dared to challenge and prevent him from fulfilling his purpose. He was created for it, hardened by it, perfect through blood and despair.

Despite it all, he failed.

His punishment being sent to sleep eternal until he could cease what he was created for.

He never did, and such he was never free.

Until a not quite ghost set him free, seeking to claim his power for his own. Yet his purpose, his ideal, never changed. He called upon Fear, who always accompanied him throughout, and he called upon the endless army in service.

And waged war.

He was conflict, he was bloodshed, he was a blade forged for and perfected through war. Crafted by the infinite and shaped by the finite.

He was war, and faced to face with a not quite ghost who pushed for the ideal of peace, the thing that robbed him of his purpose, the enemy of his ideal.

They clashed, and he found himself losing.

Yet he could not find it displeasing, just as the battle with the Ancients, it gave him pleasure to clash against someone who sought to challenge his ideal.

The fight did not give him as much satisfaction as that of the Ancients, where he pushed himself past his limits, drawn strength deeper and deeper from his core, straining his reflexes to combat that of six against one that sent thrills throughout him.

But it satisfied him, nonetheless.

He was conflict, the spiller of blood and the personification of War and one of the many shades of Despair.

He was War, a part of Despair, challenged by a boy who called for the song of hope and peace.

His loss paved the way for it, and the familiarity of eternal slumber embraced him once more.

[koushuwu]

[skoulsons]

Small, uh, drabble, I suppose

Ellie stormed out of the bar, heavy inhales and exhales as she directed her steps down the street and as far away from him as she could be.

“Hey!” Someone called, but her ears were filled with chatter and anger and every fucking memory of him.

A hang grazed her arm, her skin slipping out of its grasp as she turned. “Don’t fucking touch me, Tommy!”

“Hey!” He shouted, his anger filled to the brim.

She stopped, eyes wide as she faced him head on. “Why the fuck is he in there? He’s never in there.”

“You two need to talk,” Tommy started, quieting his voice down, attempting to get Ellie to match his tone.

It didn’t work. “What, are you our fucking meditator now? Get a better fucking hobby,” she spit, scoffing at his attempt to try and force them to reconcile.

“You two need to talk,” he repeated.

“No, we don’t. There’s nothing to talk about. You know all about it, don’t you? He lied. I’m done with him, for good.”

“Ellie…” he started, but her back was already turned, heavy steps in the direction of their house her garage.

Tommy sighed, running a hand down his face as he turned back towards the bar. Joel was standing on the inside of the double doors, whiskey in hand. He looked at Tommy like he was a deer caught in Tommy’s headlights. “Joel…”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Tommy.”

-

No amount of strumming guitar, wood carving, or reading could put Joel to sleep. He heard the whole conversation, it looping like a chord progression in his head. There’s nothing to talk about.

What he’d give to talk to her again.

But her animosity towards him was otherworldly. She was in the bar not ten seconds before she was out again after she caught one glimpse of him. Tommy had watched keenly, racing out after her as she roughly pushed through a crowd of other Jackson residents.

He couldn’t get a word in to her no matter how hard he tried.

Maybe she’s awake. Maybe now. Chosen ignorance, maybe, but he had to try. It had been almost two years, there had to be something there.

He swung his legs over the side of his bed, lightly tapping the cover of his An Idiot’s Guide to Space book before setting it on his nightstand and loosely throwing a flannel on.

-

Joel stood at her door for ten minutes, fingers fiddling with the knob as he thought about what to say. That is, if she even let him get a word in.

He inhaled heavily and exhaled slow, leaning close to the door frame. “Ellie?”

Nothing. Again, “Ellie?”

He turned the knob.

She was asleep. She was on her stomach, arms tucked behind her pillow as her cheek was pressed into the pillow as she breathed heavily, light snores filling the space. Her covers were strewn across her bed, her comforter lightly covering the lower half of her legs.

Joel smiled at the sight of her sleeping. She was calm. She was…probably happy, right now. Dreaming in a world that didn’t have him in it.

She adjusted, turning on to her left side as she tucked her left arm under her pillow and curled her right in front of her chest. She was facing him now and Joel saw her shirt.

It was his. It was one of his old shirts. A navy blue t-shirt stained with dirt and even a little blood. The same tears of fabric at the shoulder seams and a few small holes around the lower abdomen. The right sleeve was a lighter blue, discolored from being exposed to too much sunlight from its days sitting on Joel’s bed as the sun shined down on it.

Joel breathed in sharply.

Don’t fucking touch me.

I’m done with him, for good.

[lazylittledragon]

can't believe we're all adults being forced into the club penguin level of censorship in 2024

[canisalbus]

Trying to figure out modern Ludovica.

[goldensunset]

did you know? if you do your laundry you can get your clothes back

[crowkip]

yeehaw, baby!

[mynnthia]

was talking with a friend about how some of dunmeshi fаndom misunderstands kabru's initial feelings towards laios.

to sum up kabru's situation via a self-contained modernized metaphor:

kabru is like a guy who lost his entire family in a highly traumatic car accident. years later he joins a discord server and takes note of laios, another server member who seems interesting, so they start chatting. then laios reveals his special interest and favorite movie of all time is David Cronenberg's Crash (1996), and invites kabru to go watch a demolition derby with him

[th3ink]

Based on this tweet that Gooseworx made and The reason why everyone is drawing as fast as they can.

[the-magnus-protocol]

Tma + tmagp art masterpost

[feypact]

public libraries in the usa offering free digital library cards to people not in their areas (as of october 2023):

brooklyn (13-21yo us residents)

seattle (13-26yo us residents)

boston (13-26yo us residents, EDIT: just commonly banned books)

los angeles (13-18yo california residents)

san diego (12-26yo us residents, not the whole collection just commonly banned books)

these books unbanned cards (unless otherwise stated) get you access to each library's complete libby/cloud library collection, no hoopla/kanopy/physical copies included.

ebook collections are expensive to maintain (many american libraries have annual fees for non-residents because of this) but because of an uptick in book banning (particularly brutal in mississippi last summer) larger libraries have opened their doors more, which is very kind of them!

i've used my seattle card for the last several months and their libby collection has about three times the books that my local library does, which is wonderful for accessing more niche titles or skipping a waiting list. would love to hear of similar ebook initiatives internationally!

i use library extension (firefox/chrome/edge compatible) to check all my collections (+ the internet archive) at once, works for several different countries highly recommend it.

spotify seems to be offering 15hrs/month of audiobook listening to premium subscribers and while that does seem useful if you're already paying and are after a new release with a long library waitlist, libraries are better for everything else.

[musubiki]

my favorite fields of mistria boys 🥰

[aueua]

people with siblings: how do you feel about them?

[chloesimaginationthings]

Scott Cawthon’s version of FNAF Burntrap..

[fineapple20]

Portraits

Retouched this set from last year, because it was haunting me laying there 80% finished

[emberglowfox]

i dont think the sages are distinctly aware of everything their avatars are doing, but i imagine some things probably bleed through