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obitv · 1 year

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easier exams today so i am rotating ghostknife pseudo royalty au. theyre sillies

#depedning on how into totk i get ill either start writing it on frisay or next week

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lindenattic · 13 days

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im taking @autistme’s pointing at any mutuals. and doing this

last song: idk man imlistening to cocteau twins cd right now (fancy audio setup. vibey as fuuuuck) I don’t know these song names . Bluebell knoll song 5 or something

favorite color: orange :3

last movie/show: watched the first two episodes of house md like a week ago

sweet/spicy/savory: why would you make me choose. the best food is that which artfully combines multiple . I’m a bitch for salty snacks tho

relationship status: um.skip i didn’t notice this was a question until now

last thing i googled: im on a real paul klee kick right now it was probably one of his colorful squares paintings

current obsession: im music geeking the fuck out lately to be quite honest. over winter break i thrifted a SPECTACULAR a/v receiver so lately me and my roommate have just been. Expanding it. getting things better connected, getting More things connected. this week weve moved the record player and a bunch of shit to get it next to the rest of the set and hook it all up together. and also consolidate the speakers so now it’s playing through both a good set of speakers and a mediocre smaller set for backup 3dimensionality and it’s sooo baller

tagging: hmmm idk who has/hasn’t done this urmmm @thorninyourpaw @cvritiba @funeralend oh i was gonna tag wes but i straight up forgot his url oopz. peace sign

#im gonna be foing to CHICO over the weekend. to SIT in a BIG ROOM and DO COMPETITIVE DATA ANALYSIS. for up to 16 HOURS STRAIGHT on saturday #only like 4 hours on frisay and sunday. but im gonna be going fucking crazy on saturday.

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bloodredx · 7 months

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Day 6: Prison

It was a constant, nagging thrum in the back of Bones’s mind. He should, by all accounts, be dead. He only stewed for mere minutes in the wreckage of what he had done to his family and without regret he made his decision. Perhaps the only righteous thing he’s ever done. But that damn god wouldn’t let him go. It had been, what, 50 years now, trapped in a never changing body, a never freeing fate to commit even more atrocities that he was against, and only to do the bidding of a god who was probably just angry that Bones had the audacity to steal his rightful death from their moody hands.

He just wanted to die. To end all this and go off to do whatever it was that souls did when they were taken to the gods’ realm and recycled. Just a moment of release. But death would never come, for it had never left him since that night. And now he served the bastard directly. No wonder the holy books, not that Bones ever read any of them, spoke so poorly of Adamsa Frisay. The Silent one who didn’t add to the Song he was sworn to uphold. Though somewhere in the bungled range of nerves that Bones considered as his mind led him to think at times he was doing more work on that front than the god himself. He was sure that was some sort of blasphemy somewhere, shame he would have to commit to such teachings to care at all.

No, the bigger question was the nature of his sentence. Servitude, some form of immortality that he never wanted nor needed, that was the punishment. But the length of time was never specified. Surely even the gods grew bored of torturing the simpler living in time. Bones hadn’t considered how long that would be though. It could end tomorrow for all he knew. Most nights he prayed it did.

But each morning he woke up again, and each day that nagging thrum grew louder again. And each time it was screaming at him, the god would show up. The raven of death was always watching, always waiting for his weakness. Striking at the lowest points when he was on the floor, caked in disgusting mud, or otherwise trying to burn himself out of the fabric of reality. Hands, warm and buzzing with static, lifting him right again to keep going. But to where or why was always left to Bones’s imagination. Only when Adamsa Frisay left, carried away by flight of feathers of sinking into shadows unending, did the beating thrum die down. And that gave him pause. If it was not for the warden, the prisoner should be free. But for what purpose did the warden need to calm such pains? It hurt more and more as he thought on it, and finally giving up, Bones lit a cigarette and tried his best not to think of anything. His efforts, as in all things, ended unsuccessfully.

(OC-tober prompts by @oc-tober2023 can be found here.)

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kryptic-krab · 1 year

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nae naes like a sad mammal. At school

#i hope no strangers ask about frisay. xoxo

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princemick-archive · 1 year

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my brain is so fucking dead, its 10:30 pm and I can beraly keep my eyes open

#kyle.txt #god im so hppy to have all of frisay off #also no class till 11 am tmmr

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crabfin · 2 years

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Point is I'm sleepy. Want nap but I jave shit to do. Tgif tho

#talkfin #i know its wednessday but i hace thursdays and frisays off

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zebruh · 2 years

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jesus christ why won't my surgeon give me a straight answer on when my post op is gonna be cause. I live 2 hours away and need to know if I need the hotel extended or not and they just went "it'll be either Friday or monday" bruh that don't answer my damn question

#vwitty banter #monday wont need the hotel but frisay i will which fuckin is it

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lesbianraskolnikov · 2 years

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You peruse one of your old blogs ever so quicky and tumble instantly switches to try and make you reblog to there-_-

#nothing reblogged...i was just looking for magenta and blackmores frisay the 13th..#floyd.txt

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vflower-official · 5 months

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ITS FLOWER FRISAY HUYSnnnb!!!!! OMGG I HAVENT SAID IT IN SO LONG!!!!! HAPPY FLOWERFRIDAY!!!!! YAHOO!!!!!!!

#flower friday!#ALSO THE FACT THAT DAILY PURPLE CHARACTER PUT ME ON A FRIDAY WILL FORVER BE SMART

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bigassbowlingballhead · 5 months

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bestie ive been stressed all afternoon bc my mom texted and asked if she should open a package that arrived for me bc its wet (it’s been raining) and i panicked and told her its a gift for her and not to open it but she didnt respond and ive been so soo stressed that my conservative old fashioned mom opened the package and saw the massive tie dye dildo and various other sex toys i ordered on black frisay:///

HFDADKFHDKASH BESTIE I'M CRYING FOR YOU

That's terrifying. Hopefully they didn't open the box. or if they did they just put it in your space and will NEVER speak of it again.

that's so AHHH i'm so sorry

#box talk

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klauste · 1 month

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good frisay is this one coming ??? Or …later ? 🧍‍♂️Either way going to throw up time is moving too fast my head feels like it’s spinning I haven’t felt joy in over a year 🫠

#sorry I can’t stop using emojis unironically now #🫃#there’s just something about them maybe it’s because I’m old now that I don’t feel wrong to use them #it helps me get my vibe across #🕺🤘🎉

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bloodredx · 2 years

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Day 20: Death

Will there be a day where this form does not have to think about the End? Too alike in all things, too different in constitution. So many decisions made for this poor Child. How pitiful the fates, but all the while intriguing still. To maintain such grace and work ethic in spite of sheer negligence. To hold duty too such higher orders. This form made him too well.

To think he toils alone, filling shoes not designed for him. Acting in stead of his sister. Trying to be that which is antithetical to his exact disposition. It digs deep. Deeper still than any of the other Children would give credit. Even his siblings give wide berth. Though hatred holds no purchase for the End. It cannot. The rest of the Children passed their curses onto the Precious Living, punishment, but nothing has been handed from the one most hurt by their actions. The End has only reached out with any attempts at kindness he can offer. To be rebuked every time. But persisting still.

What begins must end. It is how the cycle must go. This form realized that far too late. Had the order been reversed…. the status quo might have been much different. Perhaps this form was too ambitious in mixing what should have remained apart. But what is done cannot be undone. And persistence in the face of the impossible is the most valiant effort in existence. To think of the weight of the Souls left bonded to the spontaneous, to leave them to devices. Corruption, rampant. It had to be done. This form will not apologize. But not at these hands, no. Passing the blame, name, all the same onto a Child. Make no mistake, this form never forgets. It never forgets that the End’s domain includes death, yes. But also sunsets, moving forward, the intangible growth of the Soul. Death is needed for renewal. Beginnings cannot start without the old ending. Perhaps the miserable truth is that the End is most like the Precious Living themselves. So sad they cannot see the one offering a hand to hold as they walk back into eternity.

Poppies danced in the wind, flickering through the fields in their own, tired way. Bones did his best to pay them no mind, instead slipping under the moonless night and deeper into the valley with his feet barely above the ground. He had no need to alert anything that might take interest in him, instead maintaining the painful silence. Not even bugs or birds called, despite the flourishing amount of flowers. Perhaps they didn’t want to alert the watchful eye of death, or perhaps he had already taken them all. Bones didn’t know. But the simple truth remained: he needed to get to the shitty god’s dumbass temple. He’d been avoiding it as long as he could, but he could no more. The pain was too great. If this was a test.

At some point, his feet touched the ground, rustling softly in the grass. His magic could do no more here, for this was the land of a god. His god. The bastard that kept him trapped here. As many swears and curses he could imagine ran through his mind, things his mama would be horrified to hear. But he knew the God of the End could hear them. He knew he could feel them. Whatever pain that forced nauseous shivers in his skin would be sent upward. It was the least he could do for payment. For eternity.

Large boulders and crystals of hematite and obsidian were Bones’s only support as he crept along, using the warm stones as crutches to push himself forward, down and deeper into the darkness of the long abandoned shrine. Its cavernous mouth seemed to swallow him whole as he disappeared through the darkness, having to feel his way through blindly. The antechamber was coated in dust, sending even more jitters of rage and aggravation down his spine. Motes floated aimlessly, swirling in the heat of a single candle that lay on the central altar, lit but not melting. Its meager light cast odd shadows along the carvings on the walls, words and pictures that might have meant something in a different time. Bones finally collapsed, arms just barely doing enough to prevent him from falling to the floor by just gripping on the edge of the altar. “A’ight, Feathers.” He called out between coughs. “I’m here.. the fuck… do ya want?”

Some blood sputtered out of his mouth, dripping down the black stone. He closed his eyes tightly, desperately begging to be anywhere else. To be dead. He should be dead. He should’ve been dead when he killed himself. He knew he did the job right. He knew. The air changed behind him, light sparks of static sparked in the wool of his sweater with each haggard breath. A weighty presence manifested behind him.

“Need thou ask?” Adamsa Frisay’s emotionless voice lingered a bit too long in Bones’s ear. “Hardly the lips to speak. Still shouting.”

A few footsteps moved around him, the stones echoing around. Bones couldn’t tell if it was in amusement or disappointment. “Just… do what… ya wanted.”

The god lowered themselves before Bones, just on the other side of the altar, taking his chin into his hands. The sparks of warmth shot through Bones, forcing his eyes to open just enough to peek. The emerald eye of the god lurked behind their black and shadowy hair, barely visible in the candle light. Perhaps his own pain was being reflected back at him. “If only this form could.” Their lips parted barely, but despite the distance, the whisper of the god’s voice was right in his ear. “Mirtuvi, why does resistance constantly well in the remains of that body?”

Mirtuvi. That word he kept using for him. Bones hated it. He didn’t know what it meant, but it was always around him now. Buzzing in his head like bees that would never leave. “Maybe… one day… ya’ll get sick of me.”

“Unlikely.” The answer came too quickly. “Too much to do. Much left to repair.”

“Did ya ever… ask what I wanted?”

The god paused at that, standing slowly and passing his hand along the mage’s cheek, through his hair, finally releasing contact with a jerk. “Many, many times.” Adamsa Frisay folded his hands together, effortlessly lifting Bones into the air with a gentleness he didn’t anticipate. He couldn’t resist anymore, falling limply into the forces beyond comprehension. “This form wanted nothing less than to give the world. Perhaps one day, thine eyes might glimpse the truth. But for now…”

The world in front of Bones’s eyes faded out to black, and sleep took him by storm. A gift from the god. Stepping forward, Adamsa Frisay placed a hand over the mage’s chest, sinking fingers into flesh and pulling out the fractured remains of his most botched job. The poor bits of a soul. Pitiful. The small, purple fragments swirled above his hand, trying its best to resonate, to Sing, get back together. The pitch all wrong. It was no easier to gaze upon now than the first time he saw it. He still wondered exactly how this mortal managed to do this. He knew the actions, the environment, the mood. All the data there and collected, replayed, reanalyzed. But no sense was made. No, this was a fallacy. A human fluke. Willpower. He had seen it before. The weapon locked away so many eons ago was proof enough. But why so destructive? And why to the self?

“Mirtuvi, please accept apologies. If it was possible…” Adamsa moved the pieces, attempting once more to fix the puzzle. “Thine death would have been swift, painless. Suffering so… It is shameful. Unbecoming.”

His free hand raised up, reaching into himself, pulling out some dark swirling mass. A passive glance fell over his eye. “If it takes. So receive.”

He carefully guided the darkness over the faint, purple glow of the soul. Blackness congealing slightly, retaining a proper form. It would not last. But it was enough. The End guided the soul back into the body, setting it inside with a spark of electricity that ran across Bones’s body, jumping from wound to wound, healing all to perfection. Save for the wound at his throat. Even the god’s might couldn’t touch that one. “Willpower…” They muttered in their flat tone, finger dragging through the blood splattered across his altar. “Even so, sacrifices offered. So gifts are granted. Something about thine power, Mirtuvi, which this form cannot ignore.” He spoke despite knowing all too well that Bones would not hear or know of the conversation, but carried on regardless. “Thou art in possession of a glimpse against the shards of comprehension. From what? It defies logic. All understanding. Divinity has not offered any words, if one could even find them.”

They paced around their shrine, considering more than the world could reveal alone, slipping both in and out of reality, shadow, stone, and electricity as flocks of ravens gathered around the beams of the ceiling. The birds looked at each other, watching and waiting for their master’s command, should one need to be given. All at once, the god stopped, electricity discharging throughout the room, running up and out the front of the shrine. “Unless.” He closed his eye and shook his head. “Impossible. Truly.

Hands again grasped firmly under Bones body, carrying him as one might a child. “If nothing else, rest is deserved in peace. Thou shall be returned. But please…” a desperate plea, finally allowing emotion to leech into his voice. “stop doing this to thine self. Thou art worthy of kindness… despite what beliefs are held.”

It was futile, he wouldn’t hear. In a single step, both vanished into shadows at once, leaving the ravens to flee to the sky. Feathers floating through the air like scattered poppy petals in the wind.

(OC-tober challenge by @oc-tober2022 can be found here.)

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gidianthe · 1 year

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frisay night while driving home i passed a gas station with 3.59 gas and immediately swerved into it to fill up. for weeks prior the cheapest i could find anywhere was 3.99. its now been 2 days since that night and gas is back up to 3.89-.99. what happened friday night to make gas drop 40 cents for just a couple hours

#i was with a friend and i swerved into the station and they understood #i'm so glad i filled up bc i would be pissed today if i hadnt and had missed the cheap

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rossdufferstrangerthings · 2 years

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IN NEED OF SUGAR BABY 🍟🤑💰💰💰🔞 dm for SILVER COIN! weekly allowence 500 per 43 hours in Australian time. Happy frisay🥰🥰