leave food out for me the walls are cold and empty
creating evil drinks out of bs since last year
pfp from https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/2116305 !!!
yeah so I’m writing now- here’s intro and chapter one of something I don’t know what to call yet.
moment I get my invite to ao3 it’s over
please lmk what to improve and if I should tw anything cuz idk if I need it or no
There once was a man. For many of his years, he was an avid writer, collecting stories from town to town all throughout Wyrmhallow. That man was called Carroway.
As he walked, as he wrote, he became known for a select few of his works- he wrote many a piece on the kings and queens, the only one to write in a way not harming nor helping their reputations. He merely wrote their facts, of their lives. He also was known, much to his chagrin, for the penning of the holy book of the Riverbed, the River-Dreg Gospel. He would go on to write another holy book, this, his magnum opus, one of the few works he was proud of.
“She remembers the fire. She knows the burning.She knows their screams of joy and a lack of remorse.Her voice lives on with a body undying”
-Chaper 5, Verse 2 of the Ashen Pages
As a child, religion enthralled Carroway’s life. Every waking moment there was a god he could pray to. A god of the alert, a god for keeping away the pests, gods for the harvest and gods for the cleanup. His parents often told stories of towns that were swallowed whole by the very gods they revered. The town saw him as strange for his love of the gods, knowing nothing good could come of it. Quite a few cautionary tales could be told of those who let a deity enter their life beyond a simple prayer. Carroway, being a child, and a stubborn one at that, paid no mind to their warnings and carried on with his prayers and rituals.
To him, each day was a ritual in its own right. Wake, dress, eat, leave. He worked in the fields, scattering seed and the occasional prayer as he worked the harvest. The fields flourished under his care. The others could never get the fields the same as he could.
His schooling was, as it is for all children, reluctant. He never quite enjoyed the teachings, found no use or interest in the ways of algebra or geometry. The one solace in his classes was reading. Carroway lived for stories; for learning how to write, how to chronicle.
As the years passed, as he grew, he became distant from his family, from quite a few of his friends. The prayers had become too much for the others, as well as his manner of dress and action. His stories, which he told any youth brave enough to talk to him, were of grandeur and of the gods in a positive light, how a simple prayer could bring a grand harvest, how the sacrifice of a rat could clear the bugs and quell the rat population, one sacrifice at a time.
How the gods granted one or two lucky few the strength to fight all manners of beasts, great wyrms and boars of magnificent size. He never did reveal how he heard of these wonders to the children.
yeah so I’m writing now- here’s intro and chapter one of something I don’t know what to call yet.
moment I get my invite to ao3 it’s over
please lmk what to improve and if I should tw anything cuz idk if I need it or no
There once was a man. For many of his years, he was an avid writer, collecting stories from town to town all throughout Wyrmhallow. That man was called Carroway.
As he walked, as he wrote, he became known for a select few of his works- he wrote many a piece on the kings and queens, the only one to write in a way not harming nor helping their reputations. He merely wrote their facts, of their lives. He also was known, much to his chagrin, for the penning of the holy book of the Riverbed, the River-Dreg Gospel. He would go on to write another holy book, this, his magnum opus, one of the few works he was proud of.
“She remembers the fire. She knows the burning.She knows their screams of joy and a lack of remorse.Her voice lives on with a body undying”
-Chaper 5, Verse 2 of the Ashen Pages
As a child, religion enthralled Carroway’s life. Every waking moment there was a god he could pray to. A god of the alert, a god for keeping away the pests, gods for the harvest and gods for the cleanup. His parents often told stories of towns that were swallowed whole by the very gods they revered. The town saw him as strange for his love of the gods, knowing nothing good could come of it. Quite a few cautionary tales could be told of those who let a deity enter their life beyond a simple prayer. Carroway, being a child, and a stubborn one at that, paid no mind to their warnings and carried on with his prayers and rituals.
To him, each day was a ritual in its own right. Wake, dress, eat, leave. He worked in the fields, scattering seed and the occasional prayer as he worked the harvest. The fields flourished under his care. The others could never get the fields the same as he could.
His schooling was, as it is for all children, reluctant. He never quite enjoyed the teachings, found no use or interest in the ways of algebra or geometry. The one solace in his classes was reading. Carroway lived for stories; for learning how to write, how to chronicle.
As the years passed, as he grew, he became distant from his family, from quite a few of his friends. The prayers had become too much for the others, as well as his manner of dress and action. His stories, which he told any youth brave enough to talk to him, were of grandeur and of the gods in a positive light, how a simple prayer could bring a grand harvest, how the sacrifice of a rat could clear the bugs and quell the rat population, one sacrifice at a time.
How the gods granted one or two lucky few the strength to fight all manners of beasts, great wyrms and boars of magnificent size. He never did reveal how he heard of these wonders to the children.
okay so ik I don’t really have much of a voice on here nor do I know what my end goal for how I want to be viewed on tumblr is BUT (long post under cut)
as the son of a veteran and also as a gay person I’d like to raise my voice about the whole “turning pride month into veterans month” thing (which is stupid)
What bothers me is that they are so uneducated about the people they’re using as a metaphorical scapegoat- there are SO. MANY. VETERANS/MILITARY OFFICER DAYS LR MONTHS!!!
There’s veterans month in november, may 8th as military spouses appreciation day, may 13 as children of fallen patriots day, June 27 is national PTSD awareness day, hell, may is both national military appreciation month AND month of the military caregiver (here’s where I got the list) that list of all of that? One search away. And they want another month which is cool I love my dad id be cool with another month honoring the way he fucked up his body and mind PERMANENTLY for the country.
If it didn’t come at the expense of taking a month away from people who yknow. Constantly getting rights taken away. Being criminalized for existing. Didn’t have legal marriage until recently.
What bothers me is that they don’t actually care about the veterans and military officers and lieutenant colonels or the privates or the Air Force or the navy or the damn national guard. They care about hurting a group of people. They don’t care about peace or the people who go overseas to places like Korea to help keep the peace. They want to hurt people where they think it would hurt the most.
any tsv fans have any other songs similar to return to the river? I’ve been looking but since the original song isn’t on Spotify I can’t get my fix of the song as easily :/
okay just saw an ad for new minions what have they done to cthulu what happened to fear and the eldritch why does it look like a lucky charms marshmallow
I may be the nichest music listener ever because like sure my parents and siblings make fun of me but I’m genuinely hearing things no one has ever heard of before
Chat what do you mean my brother is mad at me (someone he knows didn’t know how to swim until a few years ago and doesn’t have the best past with swimming and such) for not wanting to go to a pool that’s indoors where there’s no sun whatsoever
I’m missing pride with a friend where I live cuz I’m on vacation the week it happens which sucks but yknow what? At least there IS a pride to miss. little things
back on the battle cats grind WHY does this game have dps checks it is known for being “whatever would be funny” in terms of units why oh why do I have to beat a boss within a handful of minutes or be slimed by 40 assasin bears
gracieabrams
dailybridgerton
areudirty
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