#one millennia

[onemillennia]

Let’s Sk8!

Photography by Ayedatsmanny

Shot on 35mm film w/ Fuji 400

Developed and Scanned by 1MILLENNIA

Circa 2023

Howard University, Washington DC

[justaz]

arthur is immortal in the same way merlin is immortal, he can die but he bounces back after a while. merlin putting arthurs body on a boat and sending him out onto the lake but not burning him as he did to lancelot and freya. merlin disappearing off the face of the earth, unable to go back to camelot where every stone is carved with arthur's name, every room holds the faintest echo of his laughter, the shadows cast by the flickering flames of torches match each line and curve of arthur's body which merlin had memorized after years of dressing and undressing him, wandering and lingering hands that were just casual enough to pass off as platonic.

arthur crawling out of the lake the night after the morning merlin put him to rest, dazed, confused, and alive. arthur searches for merlin but can't find him. he's disappeared. gwen rules camelot as queen, she lifts the ban on magic, and rules fairly. arthur is content to leave his kingdom with her as he searches the land for merlin. he visits every place he and merlin every visited but he's nowhere to be found. time passes but arthur only grows more desperate. he's sure he's searched every inch of albion twice. no merlin.

enough time passes, everyone he's known has died and he looks exactly as he did when mordred drove his blade into his abdomen. arthur is forced to admit to himself that enough time has passed that merlin was bound to have died, leaving arthur all alone. immortal merlin is literally like chilling in ireland or some shit. but both immortal idiots are living in the same area and end up just missing each other. literally like end up holding the door to a coffee shop for one another but they don't meet each other's gazes bc they're busy mourning each other

[voldkat]

i tried to turn juice and ten into weird iterators . featuring nine except they're just a head rn because idk what to do with their clothes yet

[artgletic]

case study of the self-identified god

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I want you whipped into shape!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[milktea-grn]

the old house 🎭 bb rome & kendall

[starry-bi-sky]

okay a few more danyal al ghul au memes because i think they're funny to make. with bonus yaelokre danyal memes!

yaelokre! danyal 🤝 threes! danyal: being five years older than damian

yaelokre danyal comes from my oneshot right here. however, i would frankly recommend reading the version i put on ao3 because it's been edited and includes more content! shout out to my boy, he's got amnesia </3

Do i think that the LOA has technology in it? Absolutely I do. LED lights but in 3000k warm white instead of the jarring bright sterile white, if they've got glass windows they're those solar panel glass panes my college natural science building uses that detects sunlight position, which in term controls the lights, which in turn saves energy. Amber lights for outside, solar panels. Just. anything environmentally sound and friendly, they've got it, they use it.

Do i think they've got computers and tvs lying around for casual recreational use? ....that i'm not so sure about. For this au? I'm gonna say nooooottt really. That stuff is typically reserved for like, mission planning, debriefing, research, etc. Frankly danny probably does know how to use a computer, however i thought it was funny if he didn't. so the meme is staying in lmao.

If they're not training, they've probably like, got a greenhouse or two somewhere on base they can help with. The LoA's whole thing is balance, harmony, restoring the natural world with extreme environmentalism. All that jazz. Probably plenty of ponds, recreational areas outside, gardens, just, stuff to do that's not technology based. My most basic understanding is that these people are the world's deadliest hippies. They can't be training all the time, that's neither good for morale nor for their bodies, so when they're not training... they're off doing shit. If Ras has kept this thing running for thousands of years then it’s gotta be pretty lit enough that nobody’s revolted lmao.

[scarapanna]

Really unpolished animatic wip of shadow milk-uh I mean pure vanilla!!

He's doing a little spin!!!

[Edit: he's now spinning in a more refined way!]

[awriternamedart]

“Macaque-”

“No, Wukong, you don’t get to worry about me anymore.” 

Wukong froze, eyes shocked wide as Macaque spat back at him, still clutching his upper arm. Thin, fragile lines of contempt lined his voice, fangs peering over curled lips as he straightened up.

“This is the fourth time, Macaque! What are you even doing?!” Shaking his head, Sun Wukong groaned before he pulled a chunk of hair, the gold flash echoing as it shifted into a roll of bandages. “I could smell the blood clear from my house!”

“I can take care of it myself.”

“Sure, whatever, now come on, you need to clean it out.”

“I know that.” Macaque bit back, recoiling as Wukong tried to reach for him. Smacking away the outstretched paw before he rounded around the king, Macaque kept the grip on his arm tight, purple glitching and fizzing away as glamor fell to reveal tattered clothes and a scarred face, eyebags deep under golden irises. His ears twitched as he turned away. “Leave, Wukong. You'll only make it worse.”

“Ouch.” And still, he trotted after him, slipping the roll of bandages into the fold of his clothes. “Cmon, Macaque, can you stop being stubborn for literally 30 seconds? It won’t even take a paragraph to write!”

Macaque just pulled his lips tight as they approached one of the many rivers, pulling off his cape and armor to tug the shoulders off of his outfit. 

Wukong couldn’t hide the wince that ran through his body. Macaque’s dark fur made deep scars all the more obvious, shocks of skin where fur will never easily regrow dotting his shoulders and back. He was just lucky that Macaque was very obviously ignoring him right now, casting his gaze aside before sighing and sitting next to Macaque anyway.

“I know I dont have the right to worry about you anymore but you aren’t giving me a choice here, bud-! You keep showing up with these cuts and bruises, even the little ones have noticed!” Macaque hissed as Wukong snagged his wrist to stop him from using his paw to clean the bloodied cut, easily breaking from his grasp as he went to rip another chunk off the end of his cape. “Tell me whats going on, if your in danger-”

“What, you'll get the kid involved in more of your fucked up shit!?” Wukong fell back as Macaque rounded on him, snapping before immediately recoiling with a grunt. Blood fell dark against his black fur, hard to notice if it weren’t for how big the wound itself was. “Just- just leave it, Wukong. You're the last person I want to see right now.” 

“Bud-!” Hesitation consumed Wukong. Ice gripped at his shoulders, halting him from reaching out- helpless but to watch as he turned away, slipping through his paws again, again- Just when he had just started to get him back-!

He grit his teeth. 

Macaque yelped when he was dragged back, fangs bare as he went to snap at Wukong- before cold water seeped into the wound, another hiss escaping his throat. The pressure wasn’t too heavy, just startling, gentle swipes to begin cleaning out the dirt and fur muddied in red. 

“Wukong-”

“Oh, shut up, Macaque.” It was just a slight grumble, Wukong’s gaze never once flickering up to Macaque’s face as he pulled away the cloth to dip it back in the stream, wringing out excess water before turning back to the wound. A brief moment passed before he returned to gently wiping away the grime left behind. “You can slap me later, relax.” 

And.. Macaque did just that. Tense muscle and tight shoulders drooped ever so slightly, just the slightest hiss escaping his teeth when he got a bit too deep into the wound- though he didn’t fight it. It had been so long since he had let someone else help him lick his wounds, yet it felt so natural to let Wukong help him out, this innate part of him just… felt safe.

He hated it so much.

“Soooo.. You gonna tell me why you keep popping up all bloodied or am I just gonna have to guess?” Startling out of his swirling thoughts, Macaque’s ears perked up before he glanced over at Wukong. The withering look in his eyes was enough to make Wukong snicker at the very least as he unraveled the bandage. “Oh, don't you worry bud, I can absolutely keep guessin until the sun comes up tomorrow!”

“Please don't, it's grating enough.” 

Wukong had to laugh at that, missing the slight smile on Macaque’s face as he ripped the bandage and tied it off. 

“Excuse you, there are tons of people who’d love to listen to me yap their ears off!” 

“Keep telling yourself that, Wukong.” A paw landed on his forehead, playfully shoving the king back as soon as the tie was done before Macaque went to stand up, pulling on one of his sleeves and simply tucking the other one away. His fur was still wet, ok, no way he’s dealing with it getting on his outfit more. Cleaning was a pain. “Maybe someday I'll actually believe it.”

“So where are you going?” 

“Who knows, somewhere where I don’t have to hear you anymore.” Macaque just shrugged, shaking his head and mane out. Ugh, his fur was so rough now- he hadn’t had a moment's break. Who knows who could be lurking now? Either way, he had to get back, now that blood’s stench wouldn’t stick to him to badly-

“Back to beating up threats behind the kids back, then?”

Macaque froze before he could open a shadow, paw still outstretched as Wukong stood up behind him, arms folded. The playful lilt in his voice had vanished, simply watching as Macaque glared at him over his shoulder. Something mournful took its place- something that lingered in the shadows of golden eyes, that made Macaque quickly look away.

“Bud, the kid can handle himself-”

“The world is more dangerous than ever. MK doesn’t need more hell on his plate- and I sure as hell don’t see you helping him out.” He spat at Wukong, growling in his anger. Adrenaline had made him more snappy than usual already but this- this was deeply seeded. “Someone has to do the dirty work so the kid doesn’t have to.”

“Then why does it have to be you, Macaque?!" 

Black fur puffed up, his tail swinging back and forth, back and forth. Wukong just watched, almost wanted to reach out- but he fell back on himself as Macaque’s agitation dropped, tail falling still. 

“Look, bud- I can’t stop you, I know that and all and I trust your judgment and everything but-” Wukong pushed a paw through his mane with a sigh, trying to pick out his words carefully- he wasn’t good at that, but he was trying, ok? He just.. 

He found himself just staring at Macaque. Yellow and black worn fabric looked back, dirty and well worn. The red cape he always wore was slung over the warriors shoulder, scars running rampant across his body- and those were just the ones Wukong could see. Just how many of them had he gotten for others, for MK, for.. He didn't like it. He didn’t like it one bit, but- did that even matter to Macaque anymore?

“...just. Just try not to overdo it. Get help when you need it.”

“....tch. Can’t even admit it.” With a gentle vwoomp, the shadow under Macaque’s paws dipped into purple-orange, something that surprised Wukong. But before he could say anything, the other just glared back at him, sadness lingering under his scarred eye. “...You're pathetic, Wukong.”

And before Sun Wukong could say anything, he disappeared, the shadow closing up on the ground and vanishing as if it were never there. The wind rustled among the leaves, the babbling rush of the river’s flow his only accompaniment as his shoulders sagged, pushing his mane from his face.

“...I know.”

-

Worry Is A Hell That Haunts You - awriternamedart

KoFi - Socials

[onemillennia]

Manny working behind the lense

Photography by Michael Osei (@Oseishotit on ig)

Shot on 35mm

Washington, D.C

Circa February 2024

Developed & Scanned by 1MILLENNIA (@1millennia on ig)

[dearmyloveleys]

love and hatred each fill half the heart.

大梦归离 (Fangs of Fortune) 2024

(3/?)

[serpentface]

Do psychotropic drugs and/or ritual play a role in any of the blightseed cultures? A pretty broad question, lol

Yeah that’s a very broad question, the answer is about as much as it tends to play roles in real history. Alcohol is pretty ubiquitous (outside of cultures that abstain from intoxicants) and used for a variety of purposes, opioids are commonly used in some parts for pain relief or recreational purposes, stimulants (usually in mild, natural forms) are used to provide extra energy, and hallucinogens are most commonly used as part of a larger religious framework (rather than for recreational purposes). Any more elaborate answer kinda has to be case by case in a certain culture or part of the setting.

I'll just take this as an opportunity to talk about the one established sect that pretty much REVOLVES around psychoactive use. This is the Scholarly Order of the Root, which is a sort of mystery religion + elite community of scholars who currently occupy the Ur-Tree and its forest in the far southern Lowlands (southeast of Imperial Wardin, on the same land mass).

The Ur-Tree is the obligatory Huge Fucking Fantasy Tree (and its surrounding forest). It’s a mass of vegetation about a mile tall and almost as old as Plant Life Itself, its upper branches are primeval plants, which become more modern the nearer they get to the ground (and each 'level' holds tiny ecosystems, some containing descendants of LONG-extinct arthropods/other small animals). Its lowest branches and the surrounding forest are contemporary plant life, and all is connected and protected by an incomparably MASSIVE fungal mycelium network (which is itself a living god).

A lot of the Scholars' more secretive practices revolve around experimentation with substance use with the goal of expanding the Mind and transcending the body to fully connect to the Dreamlands, and they have a supply chain of traders and mercenaries called Rootrunners who traffic substances into the Lowlands. Most of their psychoactive use is in a very intentional capacity and not just like, for fun, but a LOT of them are just straight up addicted to cocaine (in the form of alchemically refined bruljenum, which is used for practical purposes of its stimulant effect during long hours of work).

All known psychoactives are desirable for experimentation (particularly hallucinogens), with each having properties that either allow expansion of the Mind, transcendence of the body, or outright divine communion. Their effects are logged in great detail and interpreted to form the basis of the Scholars' understanding of the natural world and reality itself.

The most important substance is Ur-Root, which is root matter from subterranean levels of the Ur-Tree that have both their own intrinsic psychoactive substances and a very, very high concentration of living god mycelium. The tree root contains DMT and the mycelium has its own wholly unique effects (being an actual living god). They alchemically refine it into a purer, more potent form, and use it to expand beyond the body and directly commune with the Giants, a group of entities they have identified as the only true gods.

An Ur-Root trip starts off with minor visual distortion, which turns into shifting fractals that slowly obscure the vision. Eventually the senses are entirely taken over by a 'tunnel' of rapidly shifting fractals and geometries. In a complete trip, the experiencer gets a sense that they have been pushed through a membrane and entered another realm, finding themselves in a distinct experiential Space.

At this point they may encounter entities which communicate to them in a language impossible to describe but wholly understood. These beings are understood to be the Giants, or at least aspects of the Giants that mortals are capable of comprehending (they often take familiar tutelary forms of the Mantis or the Snake, or appear resembling the same type of sophont that the experiencer is, all composed of ever-shifting geometries). The experiencer often feels a sense of unconditional and endless love from these beings, though the Giants may be more hostile and may appear in the form of the Trickster (usually a cultural figure regarded as malicious, be it an animal or otherwise) in a bad trip.

(^Up until this point, this has mostly just been a DMT 'breakthrough' experience ft. 'machine elves' and the like).

They are then removed from this space and returned to something that feels like the real world, but is nearly unrecognizable. They have a sense of rapidly moving through time, and will usually see 'the spires' towards the beginning, which just so happen to look like this:

(source + some context via Implication- the spires are exactly what this art is depicting)

The experiencer continues to move across an unfathomable amount of time, occasionally 'seeing' other such flashes of unfamiliar landscapes and creatures, and yet also being devoid of all their senses, the 'seeing' is pure, unfiltered experience. There is a sense of interconnectedness with all life, and that one has become the forest (or even Life) itself. The sense of time is wildly distorted, the trip lasts only about 5 minutes but feels like an eternity and is understood as literal hundreds of millions of years.

The experiencer has usually lost any remaining sense of Self and individual consciousness during this phase (in which case this time distortion is usually a neutral or even peaceful experience), but some retain a fraction of their identity, and find themselves trapped and conscious while experiencing what feels like eternity (which can be LIFE-CHANGINGLY distressing, even after the fact).

(^This latter part of the trip is the effects of the Ur-Tree fungus).

The trip ends with a sense of rushing through the ground and back up into one's body, at which point they will abruptly return to their senses and consciousness. The details are then immediately retrieved via interview and recorded in immense detail. The whole experience is understood as having been full comprehension of the Dreamlands, communion with the Giants, and then a tour through the act of creation.

This is done as part of the initiatory practice into the inner mystery-religion of the scholars, and as needed for study by high scholar-priests. It is not taken lightly, both as it is absolute communion with the gods and reality, and in that it can be a very, very difficult experience. People who have gone through this often walk away with a permanently shifted perspective, often in a positive and/or comforting way- a sense of interconnectedness with all life, a peace with the concept of death, seeing less of a point in individual ego and the concept of Self, and comfort in the sense of divine love they (may have) experienced. This heavily influences the philosophy of the Scholars and has had effects by proxy in the religious worldviews of the region.

Details of this experience are closely guarded, and initiates are given absolutely no prior knowledge and expectations for their trip. This is seen as a necessity- their naivety will allow for a true, unfiltered experience, and can be used to gauge whether they should or should not be accepted. Those that have a distinctly bad trip upon initiation may be assumed to have been 'rejected' by the giants and thus denied full priesthood, though this largely depends on How they interpret their distressing trip- those who identify this as a test and harsh lesson in a journey to enlightenment may be accepted (as this is how fully initiated scholar-priests interpret and handle their bad trips).

This inner priesthood is only a small fraction of the Scholarly Order, and its greater function is as a hub of education and repository of knowledge, and Scholar-trained doctors can provide some of the best medical care available in the setting ('best medical care in this setting' only means so much but it's pretty solid, relatively speaking). Only a chosen few Scholars ever get to commune with the Ur-Root, and most of the divine secrets revealed in the process are kept hidden (though they indirectly influence the politics and worldview of the entire order).

[ghxst-bird]

“Are you okay?”

He shouldn’t have stopped them. He knows he shouldn’t have. If anything, Yuji should have cheered them on, but-

Sukuna is only a child.

The boy cowers, teeth bared in a hiss and four eyes moon wide and glassy where they peek out of a crevice between two large slabs of stone. Four arms are slung tightly around his body in a heartbreaking attempt at self soothing, and sharp nails are digging crescents into the thin skin stretched over protruding ribs.

The kid is terrified. And hurt. And starving.

Yuji lowers himself into a crouch, hands splayed on his knees to assure he’s holding neither chains nor weapons, and attempts a smile.

“They’re gone now, I promise. You can come out.”

“Go away!” Sukuna—the child—rasps, “Or- I’ll eat you!“

— sneak peek of “Everything Eats And Is Eaten”

[p-clodius-pulcher]

Imagine for a second being Caesar, laying on cold stone, bleeding out in a structure your greatest rival and ally built as a monument to his glory.

For all your airs and future deifications, for all those triumphs and glories, just a man. Feeling every ache in your body as the pain gets more and more distant.

There’s clamouring, that’s distant too. It’s just you, and the marble effigy of a man you saw fall from the heights of glory to a headless body abandoned in a kingdom far from his home. Killed by fellow Romans, like you were, isn’t it funny how it always seems to come back that. Romans against Romans, civil war etched into every brick laid at this city’s foundations.

Then fall, Caesar.

[edwardteachswombtattoo]

Protective Boyfriends

[voldkat]

some school doodles because i cannot stop thinking about them . seventeen stagnant millennia i love you all