yhwch

[yhwch]

“A city reborn is a city traumatized. It remembers its past, every second that it took to get to this point. It sees the former version of itself and knows that it has changed, its boots no longer fitting, its hats no longer comfortable. The streets trace how they used to sprawl. No matter how it is paved over and reorganized, memories and echoes do not fade away that easily.”

—

Chloe Gong, Foul Lady Fortune

[yhwch]

back at it again with th' unsettlin' eye imagery, huh?

WHY FEAR THE EYE? HAVE YOU SOMETHING TO HIDE?

[yhwch]

studies have found including eyes on signs or walls significantly deters nearby crime

[yhwch]

this forest silence / loud with lover’s absence, heart— / falling autumn leaf

Greg Sellers, haiku journal entry, 8 November 2020 (via memoryslandscape)

[yhwch]

Is This Living? Meka Tome

[yhwch]

WHITE LIGHT FROM THE MOUTH OF INFINITY

[yhwch]

[yhwch]

realized we don’t know askin’s official va yet (or if we do i’m too lazy to look it up lol) so this will do as reference for now

[yhwch]

escultura de debra baxter

[yhwch]

" —— who even are you ? "

@ichigokurosaki

          ‘I AM WHAT YOU DENY, AND WHAT YOU SEEK.    I HAVE SEEN FIRE WHEN IT WAS STILL YOUNG AND WILD, AND I HAVE SEEN THE SKY AFTER THE OCEAN DRIES; I AM WISE AND HORRIBLE ... I AM WHERE YOU BEGIN AND WHAT YOU WANT TO ESCAPE FROM. I AM INSCRUTABLE, AND ALL TOO FAMILIAR ... ... –– I AM  WHAT  YOU  CAL  FATHER. ’

[yhwch]

shinji

[yhwch]

The Witcher book cover by Maéna Paillet

[yhwch]

We / are darkness. We are the city / whose brightness blots the stars from night.

Frank Bidart, from “Star Dust”, Star Dust (via voirlvmer)

[yhwch]

im gonna start calling yhwachs power "gaslighting the timeline" and y'all know im right

[yhwch]

i found the will to do One (1) reply and now im ready to hibernate for another month--

[yhwch]

“Well, the Gothic can be conducive to suppressed voices emerging, like in a haunted house. At its core, the Gothic Drama is fundamentally about voiceless things - the dead, the past, the marginalized - gaining voices that cannot be ignored.”

- Carmen Maria Machado.

[yhwch]

biskael​  /  quilge  ope .

    ( SEARING , A HOLY LIGHT UNENDING . TEMPERED THE SWORD & SWIFT THE HAND THAT WIELDS IT . ITS BLADE BATHED IN THE BLOOD OF THE WICKED . DRAW IT FROM ITS SHEATH AND THE METAL SCREAMS   JUSTICE   ALOUD AS IT SCRAPES FREE . CRAVING THE KILL . KNOWING NOTHING BUT PEACE THROUGH BLOODSHED . I AM THAT SWORD . I AM YOUR WEAPON . THIS IS THE ONLY WAY FORWARD . )

    he walked beside his majesty dutifully , a light to his darkness . his heels a staccato clack upon the pristine floors . listening adamantly , smile sharp . how he loved speaking of his exploits as a tale , or a mythos . something , without doubt , to pale in comparison to his master’s , of course . yet , a skein worthy of their tapestry , the grand banner of the wandenreich .

    “ I always cherish what You grant me , Your Majesty . The Hunt has proven itself bountiful under Your suggestion. There is life in that wasteland . And it bends to my will .

    I have broken them . They bite when I command , Your Majesty . ”

THE  BLACK  CAPE  draped over his form like nightfall over the hill,  pitch black fabric seemed to blend withe his long raven hair,  framing a silhouette both towering and somber like prehistorical legend given form,  soaked in blood,  risen from fire.  he donned the color of CHARCOAL AND ASHES,  like the bane of his existence and the altar of his RESURRECTION.

     a hand reached through the veils of history,   and   beckoned  its  FIRST  BEAST  —--

‘WELL DONE.’   a booming voice that seemed to echo in the absence of reflective surfaces.  it reverberated within itself.  had it always been like this?   or had the thousand-year slumber also changed him?   a fractured multitude doubling up on itself in perpetuity.  ‘HUECO MUNDO WAS AN UNCHARTED VOID WHERE HOLLOWS SPAWNED OUT OF CONFLICTS AND DISCORD.  IT WAS FORESEEN THAT A BALANCER SHALL SEEK TO MAKE A SANDBOX OUT OF ITS DESERT.  BUT HEAR ME WHEN I SAY,  CHILD,  THAT CREATIONS ALWAYS REFLECT THEIR CREATOR.  AND AIZEN SOUSUKE HAS NOT BEEN ABLE TO BREAK OUT OF THE CONSTRAINTS OF SOUL SOCIETY’S MOLD.

      BUT I HAVE NOW LEFT IT IN YOUR HAND —— QUILGE OPE OF THE “JAIL” ... A MIRROR TO YOUR SCHRIFT-MARKED SOUL.   NOW   TELL ME  ALL YOU HAVE DONE,  AND I SHALL SHOW YOU WHO YOU ARE —-’