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#it was fireworks in my brain
dorywhynot · 2 months
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have you heard? they're boyfriends <3
(prints, because why the heck not)
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fryologyy · 2 years
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planet irk was a perfect utopia...
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floweroflaurelin · 11 months
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So Pixlriffs’ finale is a masterpiece and I’m experiencing a lot of emotions right now ✨🌻✨
For my own reference I made a transcript of the monologue and thought I might as well share it! It's under the cut to avoid spoilers but the whole first 8ish minutes of his video are typed out. I recommend watching at least that much, if you haven’t yet, because it’s really something worth hearing.
We are not done.
Not yet.
Our stories do not begin here, and neither do they end. But before they fade into obscurity, as so many events do, there is one more story left to be told.
[It is the Story
of
the World.]
It’s important to remind ourselves that history is an account of events remembered—and there are so few left who remember, so it mingles with myth and hearsay, folklore and fireside stories. This is the account of just one man, and others may recall the tale differently. Others still may decide to change the narrative to suit their own ends. And this, it must be said, is no bad thing. So it goes.
[Sun setting
over
our Creation.]
In a long-lost age before records truly began, our world was built by Titans (or so it is said). The lands they created became home to people who would seek to emulate and even to surpass that act of creation, and that would eventually bring about their destruction. But destruction is simply part of a cycle. Nothing is ever truly lost.
Those who foresaw the destruction fled before it could bring the walls of their homes down around them. And many who had been downtrodden and overlooked saw it as their chance to find a new life for themselves.
Thus began a great migration, leaving behind the old nations of the world and striking out for somewhere new, a life untethered from the follies of their former state. And though the road was long and treacherous, and many fell behind in the wake of such an awful endeavour, new bonds were forged in the fires of adversity.
As time passed, and more joined the great caravan, the host became a nation of its own, a glorious congregation sharing one purpose, singing the same resolute song. Though the road was long, they were homeward bound.
And a home they found nestled in a mountainous landscape, one that might have been carved by the very bones of the gods themselves. There they planted roots, drank deep from the water, and continued to grow. The farmers sowed new fields and raised new flocks. The work of many hands turned to building a new city. And together the architects conceived a castle upon a great plateau that would stand as a monument to their past apart and their future together. To them, the castle itself would tell the Story of the World.
Stone-whisperers from Mythland and the Grimlands, well-versed in masonry of all kinds, sculpted its walls from the abundant rock of the nearby mountains quarried for the glory of their new capital. They wrought rock and iron, carved and timbered their great halls, and raised mighty towers to stand atop the grand cliff.
The mages of the Crystal Cliffs brought knowledge of magic and the beauty of gemstones, and theirs was the sanctum at the heart of the castle, ever-seated at the Ruler’s left hand: their shield and protector.
A tribute was raised to Gilded Helianthia, whose ruler was still revered in the hearts and minds of many, and in time she became their warden against the spectres of the past, carrying the twin burdens of light and shadow on her shoulders; a burden with which the people of Rivendell were all too familiar.
And below, far below, the engineers of Pixandria sought to reproduce the jewel of their empire. A mechanism that would surpass the work of the Copper King himself.
Not all who came to found the Ancient Capital remained for long. Like dandelion seeds, the people of the Overgrown were scattered on the wind, alighting on the mountaintops and valleys. The vast majority of them came to settle in the rolling meadows of Chromia, which was renowned for the richness and beauty of its dyes for lifetimes after.
In the absence of their king, the nation of Mezelea resettled in new badlands, establishing laws and ordinances of their own. Many of them had been armour stands before the king imbued them with life, and some found this a hard habit to shake.
The people of the Cod and Ocean empires, bereft of the waters that gave them life, took to diving in the rocky pools of vast caverns and their affinity for stone grew. Over many generations they adapted, becoming the green-skinned race that folk came to know as goblins—their pointed ears the only remaining vestige of the fins they had once had.
For the gnomes of the Undergrove, this was a homecoming! They had long dwelled here before their exodus through the Nether and the fairy circles of the Evermoore welcomed them with open arms.
And the villagers of the Lost Empire, hiding in plain sight amongst the caravan of peoples, sought to find a place where they would be unburdened by this facade of humanity, standing at last on their own two feet.
But the boundaries of this land were ever-changing, and the nations soon found the cataclysm they had left behind had weakened the walls between their world and others. Waters rose and fell unpredictably; incursions from other realms were possible, bringing chaos in their wake. The tide of history churned and rippled.
None now remember how the Capital fell, only that its remains have lasted: an epitaph to all they had achieved together.
And just like before, new nations would arise. The pirates of Eversea ruled the waters from their secret cove. The inventors of Cogsmeade arrived sailing in from the air on their skyships—only to find whole buildings floating in the golden kingdom of Stratos. Rumours abounded of a Sanctuary hidden in the deepest jungle for those who knew the way.
Their tales are better told by those who knew them well. Our stories do not begin here, and neither do they end. But for this tired historian, it is perhaps best to leave these things in the past and begin to look towards the future.
For whatever comes next, we who have sown the seeds can only hope for a bountiful harvest.
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owlyflufff · 7 months
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STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING AND LOOK AT THEM
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retromeek · 5 months
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When Anxiety becomes full of JOY. 🧡🎆
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mhaynoot · 9 months
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JANG HAYOUNG AND HER RELATIONSHIP WITH KDJ / DKOS IS A REFLECTION OF KDJ’S OWN RELATIONSHIP WITH YJH INCLUDING THE IDEALISATION OF THE PROTAGONIST IN THE STORY AND LEARNING TO LOVE BOTH THE STORY AND THE ONE YOU GOT TO KNOW AND IN THIS ESSAY I WILL-
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a-reader-and-a-writer · 6 months
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Unable to Stay, Unwilling to Leave
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Day 29 with Forced to Choose for @ailesswhumptober's event
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just-an-enby-lemon · 25 days
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Carter: As Oscar once said: "everything is about sex, except sex, sex is about power."
Wilde: I never said that!
Carter: Yes, you did!
Barnes: Well that sounds like something you would say.
Wilde: Last time you agreed with Carter that "You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear" was something I would say. Your opinion does not count.
Barnes: Wait, you didn't say that?
Carter: Nah. I did got that one wrong it was Campbell actually.
Zolf: *who was listening from the side room and entered invoked by Campbell's name* No it wasn't. Campbell isn't a hack.
Carter: Ohoho, Oscar, he called you a hack? Are you gonna let him?
Wilde: Not he didn't! Because I never wrote that. I never spoke that. And I resent anyone thinking I did.
Barnes: Okay, so who said it?
Carter: I still think it was Oscar.
Wilde: *doing calming breathing exercises*
Barnes: Don't be like that Oscar, Carter is just being himself. In fact, didn't you once said "be yourself, everyone else is already taken"?
Zolf: *who knows that Wilde never said any of this things* *breaks laughing*
Carter: Yeah, it was right after "never love anybody who treats you like you’re ordinary".
Wilde: I hate all of you.
Zolf: Why? Wasn't you the one going "there is only one thing in life worse than being talked about" well we are talking about you.
Wilde: I never... wait... no...I actually did say that one.
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itsbluehour · 3 months
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FIREWORK &TEAM | June 13, 2023
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I REALIZED I NEVER ASKED SMTH
apologies for the caps. this question grabbed me very very hard: but do you have welcome home ocs?
i do! i have exactly Two, though the second is still being very slowly and lazily workshopped in my brain bc im not satisfied with them.
my main guy is Derry Drake, a big ol' fuzzy dragon. and since they seemed lonely i gave em Jesterly, whom i have personal beef with. as Shown in that post's tags. they're menaces
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queerofthedagger · 2 months
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i dreamt about mulder and scully last night, which would already be funny, but I. have never watched x-files. thank you fandom. thank you tumblr
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marz-likes-palaces · 4 months
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i had an Idea!
Cucurucho uses electrolarynx (i hope thats how its called. just that short electrical wand people without voice box can use to press it against their neck and be able to speak)
because people using electrolarynx always sounded a bit robot-y to me AND it would make sense that a bear wouldnt have the correctly shaped voice box for human speech (would an actual be able to talk just if it was given a electrolarynx? hell no. but this is fiction so i dont care and i think electrolarynx-s are very cool and swag)
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vividblaze · 2 months
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broke: playing yumekuro because TsudaKen's in it woke: playing yumekuro because TsudaKen voices a character who talks like an onee-san
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whenshesayshush · 1 year
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So um.. you’re going to need to give me some details about this rivusa New Years kiss.. I’m not above begging.
“Three minutes to go!”
He rolls his eyes at the people scouring through the crowded room, desperately looking for their partner, prospective partner or just a random delectable stranger who seems up for a good time. Bloom’s already got Sky in a headlock across the room, as if he would go anywhere during his first New Year’s Eve with her back in his arms.
“Oh come on, Grumpy, like you’ve never taken advantage of the opportunity. I bet you tell a different unfortunate soul they’re the first thing on your New Year’s to-do list every December 31st.”
Musa stumbles a little closer when someone bumps into her in their hurry, and he steadies her by the elbow, pulling them both back a few steps until they’re closer to the wall and further from the bustle. “Please, I’m not that lame.”
“But you are ‘kiss and tell’ personified, yet avoiding the question.”
“I didn’t hear a question,” he replies, pausing to glare daggers at a vaguely familiar second year hesitantly approaching Musa from behind. When she turns around to see what’s got him distracted, the budding Specialist is long gone. “Just prejudice.”
She turns back to face him, the glittery golden ‘Happy New Year’ headband that’s crowning her intricately braided updo bouncing with the movement.
“You’re telling me you’ve truly never kissed someone at midnight on the turn of the year?”
His jaw twitches and negates the way he shrugs his shoulders indifferently.
“Look, I’m not above a drunk, festive fuck to ring the new year in with a bang, but tying my luck for a whole year to someone whose name I won’t remember on January 1st sounds like a dumb idea to me.”
She laughs warmly. “Try again, Riv, you’re the least superstitious person in The Otherworld.”
His fingers clench around a piece of fluff in the pocket of his dress pants. Maybe it’s the cheap champagne they’re serving tonight, maybe it’s the bowtie that matches her dress interfering with the amount of oxygen going to his brain, or maybe it’s just his proximity to her, but the next words to tumble over his lips come out far more truthful than he intends.
“I haven’t liked anyone enough to want to commit like that, okay, Pixie? Happy now?”
Her eyes soften in surprise, catching his the way they always do when he shares something personal with her. Catching him. “Well, same here. So we can toast to that.”
She grabs two flutes from the tray that passes by on her right and hands one over, hovering hers in the air in front of him as the ten second countdown begins, then frowns in confusion when he reaches out and plucks it out of her hand, carelessly disposing of both glasses on the windowsill behind him.
“Three…two…one…Happy New Year!”
He surges forward and presses his lips to hers.
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tired-reader-writer · 7 months
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My List of AUs
I have quite the bunch of AUs for various fandoms (one per each fandom, really) and I realized I never quite made a list of them so here's a quick lil list, I might be forgetting some and the post won't include links (yet) but I will tag my AUs!
I'll probably make a proper pinned post for this someday but that day is not today!
Winds of Wolfsong (Arslan Senki)
Foxes, Pillars, and Sea-salt Rust (Naruto)
Sunburst Sandstorm (Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood)
like the strings on a rope (darling I fray like a firework) (Witch From Mercury)
Painting A Perfect World (Moriarty the Patriot) (abandoned)
A Perfect Summer Storm (Who Made Me A Princess)
Jewel Shards And Broken Bastards (Villains Are Destined To Die)
Of Malice and Madness (I Shall Master This Family)
Unnamed AU (Doctor Elise)
Unnamed AU (When the Villainess Loves)
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Trying to do anything but doom scroll refresh the QSMP pages terrified to see his little mustached face greyed out. I left BBH’s stream midway too when he and Foolish were dis fighting in the ring, and when I joined again they were singing the eggs songs in the school. The absolute DREAD that filled my stomach seeing so many eggs and so few parents and players around.
But Ramon will come back and everything will be… not fine, but they’ll have learned important lessons and won’t have to 200% alter the course of many player’s lives and choices
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