Draw Blood — Serano, Julia,
Blood Meridian, or, the Evening Redness in the West
Blood Meridian, chronicles the brutal world of the Texa…
Cactus Blood — Oakland Public Library
Cactus Blood — Corpi, Lucha, 1945- — She's back: Gloria Damasco, the Chicana detective tempered during the civil rights movement. And she's involved in solving another mystery complete with gruesome murders. Is it a serial killer that is leaving the corpses strewn with artifacts from Native American rituals? Does it have something to do with the farm workers' union which the victims had worked for in the seventies?<br />Gloria Damasco and Justin Escobar are the detectives who begin to look into the disappearance and death of the three former activists from the seventies. The trail the sleuths follow leads from the grape vineyards of Delano in 1973 to the old Native American ghost dancing site in the Valley of the Moon. The portentous landscape becomes a fitting site for the surprise denouement foreshadowed by Gloria's mysterious visions.<br/>Detective Gloria Damasco, a Chicana with experience in the civil rights movement, investigates a series of murders whose victims are three former social activists
Ten Years of Blood | Paul Stephenson | Offprint
Holy shit I've been a published author for a whole decade
Blood on the Clocktower
Blood on the Clocktower is a social deduction game created by Steven Medway and published by The Pandemonium Institute. The game was released in board game format in 2022, first via Kickstarter. The game can also be played online via a web app, and via Discord communities. Gameplay is also live streamed on several Twitch channels, including an official channel by The Pandemonium Institute.
Bad Blood: Secrets and Lies in a Silicon Valley Startup
The full inside story of the breathtaking rise and shoc…
musings of a sad, seraphic slut - heart and soul ♡
a peek inside the heart and brain of soul
chorus & hero
When it came it came with eyes We could not close our eyes to escape its gaze When it came it came with eyes that looked through our lids That looked through our eyes its eyes Looked below the hair on our heads that did or did not blow In the wind branching out of our brains the sky Gathered in a cave where each one of us says I and I echoes It came and gazed into us until it found itself staring back When he returned from the underworld he thought his eyes Were the same eyes he opened to the shades His eyes dilated in the dark until he could see in the dark The darkness opened in his head until his head could not contain it He did not know night followed him when he returned He could not see behind him his children Stared at him with his own eyes when he came home to see them He did not know he was the danger they were in the gods Put vision in his eyes he did not think he could not See the difference long ago he notched the arrows he shot Sometimes we see with our ears the blood on hero’s hands Sometimes the hero walks out from his house with his hands held out As if to ask us who cannot help but see If these blood-covered hands are mine are these hands mine It’s hard to see in the night flowing out behind the hero’s head If these hands are mine if these hands are Mine to close mine to turn palms up mine to bring close to my own head To cover our eyes with the same hands we do not want to see Ourselves looking at our hands Children look through the mirrors their parents gave them for eyes Tears come out the mirrors when they cry The mirrors widen in the dark but in the dark show less The mirrors widen in fear a little door in the mirror opens wider We who gave birth to them live in a cave in their heads A cave in which we watch ourselves as they hide Behind a column or behind their mother’s robes our children’s eyes When a force moves through us When our arms act because our minds command them When our mind obeys our eyes but our eyes Are not our own eyes when we see as we are forced to see When the command comes from the gods hiding inside the eye Replacing our eyes with a vision We do not say I we say we we say we did this we did This act and when it’s worse when it’s my hands When these hands are mine we don’t say we We say it we say it came upon me a force none could resist Soul or breath god or madness it acted in me It came and when it came it came with eyes
Johto Mono
Hand-drawn Pokémon-style pixel font with 600+ glyphs, full hiragana and katakana, and the full Unown alphabet.
Une «blessure invisible» : un an après l’incendie à Marseille, la lente reconstruction psychologique des victimes — Vert
Alors que d’importants feux font rage dans le sud de la France depuis plusieurs jours, Vert est allé à la rencontre de victimes d’un incendie dans le nord de Marseille survenu en 2025. Il y a un an jour pour jour, les habitant·es du quartier de l'Estaque ont vu 750…
The suffering of the mother
On Jenkins' Stabat Mater and suffering via mother
The AI Vampire
This was an unusually hard post to write, because it flies in the face of everything else going on.
Anastasia Nikolayevna Romanova adlı kullanıcıdan bu Pine göz atın
17 ago. 2026 — Vampiro mujer, Fantasía oscura, Chicas
CARIMARA: Beneath the forlorn limbs
A mute little thing with borrowed magic. A house that murmurs back. Ask wrong, and you might wake something that remembers your name.
