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uutempirenj · 5 months
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Music Speaks.
I received the message. I will reply this way.
I feel this same. We can try when you're ready.
Be smart. Be loyal to your truth.
All the drums were in sync with the subs.
I felt the heart beats towards the end.
The gate is open, all I can say, is if you want that trophy, you've got to go for the win.
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apexulansis · 1 year
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You are far from home, Blood Drinker.
Comes the voice from every direction. The cup of blood-wine vibrates with each word it speaks, the crimson within agitates, rivulets clawing up the sides of the glass.
This place. These worlds. These people. So peaceful, so content.
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So DISGUSTING! So soft, weak, pathetic-- you must show them the true way. The Way of Blood, a gift from your people to theirs!
And a honor for him, The Blood God!
Whatever train of thought the hunter had before, it quickly vanished. Were it not for the visual emanating from his chalice, Ardaka would have mistaken the voice rumbling in his mind for nothing more than another whisper to join the chorus of his paranoid, unwell subconscious. It agitated his ears, though, which cringed and flicked and pressed back to his head — like someone were speaking into them. But his gaze is fixed on the thin lines of blood that crawled in the glass like living worms, practically missing what was actually said.
A few long, awkward seconds after the voice is silent, Ardaka actually muses on the words. Then his expression shifts, lips twisting downwards. Void. What an uncomfortably motherly statement that was. The kariian hisses, reaching up and rubbing his hand against his ear, setting the glass down and stubbornly looking away from it as if he were not just witnessing something unexplainable.
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"You've got the wrong number." The lifted hand pats around each of his ears, looking for perhaps a piece of technology he might've left on. "Try my mother. You sound just like her."
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se7en-06 · 1 year
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4 Nov 2022,
Friday ✌🏻
9:34 pm
After 1 month 26 days & 2 hour 26 minutes, this year will end. A year full of sadness, depression, loneliness, and insecurities will get over. I hope next year brings me happiness, friends and I hope that my subscriber number start increasing. I will work more harder than this one.
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Hope I don't ever get cried again. I get to hold my happiness in my hands.
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seasonofprophecy · 10 days
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Hey everyone, please consider buying the 2024 itch.io Palestinian Relief Bundle- it's 373 games, game-making assets, tabletop roleplaying games, zines, and comics for a minimum of just 8 USD! They have a goal of 100,000 USD, and as of the time I'm writing this post, they have 8 more days to reach it.
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Link will be in the reblog!
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shining-sphinx · 1 month
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So I got into dungeon meshi and i’ve been telling everyone who I talk to. I love everything about the world, characters, the art, etc.
BUT
People are not kidding when they say that senshi will manifest in your head to tell you to eat better. Like I have a hard time remembering to eat but my brain would be like “you haven’t eaten in some hours, you need a meal” and I would be like you’re very right internal senshi I’m gonna see what I can make. Then I make food??? Honestly Gods sent senshi for helping so many people eat better
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ma-39 · 1 month
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cadmium-free · 7 months
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terribly charmed by my sibling sending me a voice message that just said “i just always take ibuprofen at the wrong time. i had a headache all afternoon, from three to eight pm and then i took an ibuprofen half an hour before the headache went away! i could have just saved an ibuprofen!”
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ruushes · 4 months
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had some very specific things i wanted to work on this weekend and got possessed by the specter of undercut lae'zel instead 🤦
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teathattast · 6 months
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savagegood · 10 months
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“Did you see the way that little girl looked at me? Kids. Little kids. They grow up believing that they can be a hero if they drive a sword into the heart of anything different. And I’m the monster? I don’t know what’s scarier. The fact that everyone in this kingdom wants to run a sword through my heart or that sometimes I just wanna let ‘em.” “We have to get you out of here. Over the wall. We won’t stop until we find some place safe, okay? We’ll go. Together. No matter what we do, we can’t change the way people see us.” “You changed the way you see me... Didn’t you?
NIMONA (2023), based on the comic by ND Stevenson, who came out as transgender in 2022
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pierog · 5 months
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apexulansis · 2 years
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zov let me touch your head ears
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"Absolutely not. Who knows what sort of filth you carry."
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aueua · 6 months
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Hey how are you ✨ [USERNAME]... my ոame is 💛 [NAME] 🍓 I'm [ADVERB] 💙 [ADJECTIVE] 💜 right now 🥵 and I'm hoping💋 yoս to [VERB OF FUN]😚 [HYPERLINK] 💦 please be 💚fast 🌸 I'm 😳 waitiոg😏 you here 🔥
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gibbearish · 6 months
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love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking
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villainanders · 6 months
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When beloved mutuals are like oh no tumblr might be going down add me on discord! like okay I love you I’m kissing you on the mouth I’ll die without your little posts but am I going to message you? are you going to message me? we all know this is not going to happen.we r open pasture creatures we both need a place to post freely
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esyra · 6 months
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After the hospital bombing, I finally heard back from my grandmother and confirmed that several of my relatives were murdered by Israeli bombing. Seven of them, to be precise. Three are still going, including her. We've been talking constantly ever since.
Asked if it was possible to head south, and was told they did but were also bombed there. So they decided to go back home, in Zeitoun. Their home was bombed and they were pulled out of the rumble, then driven by ambulances to the al-Ahli Arab Hospital. There were people in every corner. Gazans sheltering, sleeping on the floor. Gazans dying on the floor, waiting for beds.
Four were declared dead on arrival, three were in need of surgery and other three were just bandaged. Then, a bomb was dropped in the parking lot that made parts of the ceiling collapse, like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah reported in that horrific conference/interview. Those in need of surgery died.
By the way, just in case you didn't know: the Church of Saint Porphyrius, the third oldest in history, bombed by Israel a few days back, was located near the hospital.
When looking for new shelter, they saw schools with signs hanging outside, "We can't take any more families." They met families, sympathetic but already sheltering too many people. They're now staying in an apartment building they found empty. Sleeping in the corner of the living room. If the family comes back, they'll apologize and leave.
Told me she was saving her phone battery for when the bombing stopped, and she had to ask for help to rebuilt the neighborhood. But she doesn't think it's gonna stop anymore. The ones still with her are mute most of the time, like they're saving energy, but she feels lonely and wanted to talk. There's no internet and to connect to WhatsApp, people are buying "a card from the supermarket, there's a password and username." Not sure what she meant. Still, the internet is inconsistent and won't load neither videos or images nor pages, so she doesn't know what's happening on the outside world.
Told her there were a lot of people protesting to stop the genocide, she replied, "The bombings are getting worse by the day." The bombing yesterday was the worst she ever witnessed. The entire neighborhood is infested with the smell of death, of decomposing bodies. Bodies are piling up in the streets and she's not sure if it's because they ran out of places to store them, but most of them are in bags. The smoke of the bombings hide the blue sky—she hasn't seen the clouds for a while.
Asked if I could share their pictures, names and dreams with people and was told, of which I partly agree, "they're not entertainment." If anyone genuinely cared, they would be alive—I'd argue there are people who do care, but I'm not gonna lecture her pain. And they don't deserve to be used to fulfill someone's sick fantasy. Told me to remember what some Israelis do with pictures of dead Palestinians. And I do.
For those of you who are not familiar, many times before settlers got together to celebrate the murder of Palestinians. For one, in 2015, Israeli settlers set a house in Duma, West Bank on fire. An 18-month old baby, Ali Dawbsheh, was burnt alive. Both parents later died of wounds and only a 5-year-old, Ahmad, survived, although severely injured.
Two celebrations of their murder are widely known, one at a wedding and others outside the court in which two were indicted for the terrorist attack. In the wedding, guests stabbed a photo of the toddler, Ali, while others waved guns, knives and Molotov cocktails. Israel's Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir, was present.
That's what happens in an apartheid. Palestinians are so abused by authorities that their "innocent civilians" come to accept the brutality as necessary or are desensitized by our suffering. After all, it's been 75 years—get used to it!
So I won't risk the image of my loved ones, in fear they are used in these kinds of depravity. I will say, though, the world lost a young footballer. Lost a female writer and an aspiring ballerina. Lost a kind father, who was also a great cook, and a loving mother that enjoyed sewing and other types of handicraft art. Lost a math teacher and a child that wanted to become one.
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People think Israel is testing new weapons on them. There's civilians arriving at the hospital with severe burns, which they thought was from white phosphorus, but apparently the pattern is different from the one caused by white phosphorus. It's widely believed Israel tests weapons in Palestinians.
Jeff Halper, author of War Against the People, a book on Israel's arms and surveillance technology industries, said: "Israel has kept the occupation because it's a laboratory for weapons."
They've ran out of drinkable water and the "aid" Biden sent was only for the South of Gaza and no fuel, for hospitals, was allowed in. Many shelves in the supermarket are empty. She said many are convinced that if they don't die from the bombing, they'll die from starvation or dehydration, or whatever disease will develop from the dirty water they're drinking.
Told me all people do now is pray, cry and die. Told me she hopes West Bank is spared. Told her Israel bombed a mosque in West Bank and dozens of Palestinians in West Bank are being murdered by settlers, so she bided me goodbye.
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