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twst-shenanigans · 2 days ago
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twst Incorrect quote #191
Ace: “MC, what were you thinking?! Why would you go along with Malleus-senpai’s plan?!”
MC: “But Tsunotaro gave me the sad dragon eyes! I was weak!”
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prometheuswelsh · 9 hours ago
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you guys are so cute together
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lilyminer · 2 days ago
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When the full caves and cliffs update comes out for bedrock I’m totally gonna be living out my dream of being a dwarf and digging a hole, diggy diggy hol-
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skullyfuck · a day ago
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how bad am i at minecraft, you ask? well chuckles i managed to lose a whole ass wither
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incorrectnessduskwood · 2 days ago
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Richy, walking into MC and Jake’s bedroom in the middle of the night: I had a bad dream.
MC: What was it about?
Jake: No, don’t ask him that!
MC: Why not?
Jake: Cause he'll answer!
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microsaia · a day ago
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elleslovelythree · a day ago
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1.18s ore distribution map looks like a piece of abstract modern art
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auroranekai · a day ago
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My partner and I started a new 1.18 MC world together and we got them adorable Axolotl pets!!! So I OFCOURSE had to draw them. 
The white one (mine) is called Blubble and the yellow one (his) is called Bonanza!  (≧▽≦) 
Blubble says trans rights
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gay-slime · 12 hours ago
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Speedrunning Minecraft the way LOZ players do by cheating in an elytra the second I spawn and noclipping the world at mach 10 until I hit the end portal, glitching me into the end before the game can load that the portal isn’t activated yet, and exploding the enderdragon on impact.
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anathemafiction · a day ago
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It looks like a painting from afar.
Round and huge, the design is not so much carved on the wall as it is part of the stones themselves. You pass your hand over the old, ancient paint, feeling the protrusion under your palm, the rustic texture of the bricks.
"'Tis... Impressive," Alessa speaks from beside you, lifting her torch in the air. Its warm light bathes the curved ceiling and makes the faded colors shine with a new glow. Yellows, blues, and greens grow stronger, and for a moment, time reverses, and you see them as if they're freshly painted. So many years before.
"And old," Hadrian adds, squatting low on the ground. He's touching the bricks too, following the curve that goes all the way to the ceiling and then back down - a circle made of painted stones. "It's falling apart."
As if to demonstrate, Hadrian scratches his nails on a brick, and you watch dust fall from his fingers. "What do you think this was used for?"
You're standing slightly back, so you can watch the whole circle. The stones on the periphery are colorful, but the space on the inside isn't. It's mostly bare, with the dull gray color of clay, except for an area right in the center. Where the wall is pressed in so that the shadows form words.
"Perhaps it held no use," Alessa says, moving her torch right and left. There's little else on the darkened corridor beside this mural, however. No other clues as to its meaning. "But none better to answer such query than our translator."
Hadrian straightens to his feet, Alessa glances over her shoulder, and now two sets of green and blue eyes are on you. But yours don't stray from the sentence, the odd reminder, the warning or reassurance that someone thought important enough to carve onto stone and surround by a colorful circle. A display, you suppose, a sign.
A threat? 
"I'm... Not sure of its purpose," you say, brows furrowing. You read it again and again, trying to make sure you're not misinterpreting, pulling at your memory for the forbidden language. 
Alessa lifts an eyebrow. "Well?" she asks at your silence, and you can tell she tries to hide it, but there's impatience in the tone. "Do you intend to share before the century turns?" 
"What does it say?" Hadrian presses, fingers playing with his cross. 
You eye the Latin words. The Latin sentence. 
Hoc quoque transibit
"This too shall pass." 
Your voice bounces on the ancient stones, filling the chamber where no sound was heard for ages, where not even the sun is allowed to enter. Dust gathers on the corners, dust falls from the walls, dust settles on the tip of your tongue, scratching your throat. Ghosts roam the space in between, and time makes itself known more than ever. Time, ever-shifting but never changing. Time.
An odd shiver crawls down your spine as you eye the words of ones who have long passed. Hadrian and Alessa look at them too, but neither of them speaks again. You're all silent, watching the shadows dance with the torch's flame. And you wonder, then, what they think, for you yourself can find no words to describe what you feel. 
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lindseywickson · 10 hours ago
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blumarine fw21
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