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#i could not stop thinking about this
corruptpixel · 10 months
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stop starin at me with dem big ole eyes
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puppygirlclick · 5 months
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nikkeezy · 6 months
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immoralfag · 1 year
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human-who-lives · 3 months
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voidchimeras · 2 years
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my brain is exploding rn look at this:
WE HAVE THIS PANEL OF NICK AND CHARLIE
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and iykyk…
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bookstoreblossom · 2 years
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bitchout · 2 years
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“My hand was the one you reached for, All throughout the Great War”
-Taylor Swift
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one of these things is not like the others
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bloodychazorite · 1 year
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Virion Sol used to have magic.
Only little bits of it and he never exactly learned how to use it fully, but he did have it. Sparks of purple would fly from his skin whenever he startled, and swirls of the same hue would gather around his hands when he grew too excited.
As soon as his parents grew aware of his situation, Min began to teach him how to start small fires and move things that were the same weight as a book.
The bit that Virion grasped naturally, though, was nature magic.
He felt like he could feel the beat of life in every plant, the growth and death of the flora around him.
A special connection to nature wasn't necessarily rare in Elves, but one as strong as his was growing more and more uncommon by the generation.
His mother was prouder of him than she could possibly express, and his father was eager to see him grow, to see what else he could do.
His mother had to help him with this field. She showed him how to coax flowers into full bloom and how to boost the growth of a seed to a bud. She trained him to see the mana flow through every stem and how to sense which roots ran below him.
With every new trick and spell, he learned he ran to show The Greats and never forgot the looks of amusement and pride on their faces.
Virion never felt prouder of himself than those moment.
And then Virion lost everything.
He lost his home, his family, his friends, his childhood, and everything familiar to him.
He lost his magic somewhere along the way as well.
He didn't notice at first, he simply didn't have time to use magic with all the things he was doing now in Prime.
One night, though, he sat outside as the sun sank beneath the horizon line.
He checked the surrounding area, making sure no one could see him, and stretched his fingers out over a tightly shut flower.
One he couldn't even remotely identify.
Vyncent tried to reach inside of himself. He tried to pull out warm, tingling of magic that he felt so many years ago. His hands trembled as his eyes squeezed shut. He grasped at blades of grass and felt them slip between his fingers.
He could do this.
A shaky sigh slipped from his lips as he cracked open an eye.
And there the flower sat, same as it was when he first stepped outside.
Vyncent swallowed, blinking slowly.
And suddenly it hit him all at once.
He couldn't do magic.
He lost that too.
Along with everything else.
He'd never see his mothers' face smiling back at him, congratulating him for a job well done. He'd never see his world again, the beautiful sweeping vistas and waterfalls surrounding the tribal tree at the center of his village. He'd never breathe the light air of Fauna again; he'd never run through the meadow on the outskirts of town or watch the three moons rise and fall from the sky.
Rage, sorrow, and grief begins to bubble up inside of him.
The Lich even managed to take the mana woven into his very being, the magic sewn into every one of his cells.
He couldn't feel the beat of life in any plant, the growth and death of the flora around him eluded his senses.
To Vyncent's surprise, the flower bud shriveled and blackened beneath the tips of his fingers. He sharply sucked in a breath as the stem hunched its' back and disintegrated into thick, black ash.
Something not even remotely to the point of showing its' petals just had its' life stolen.
Vyncent stormed inside that night, brushing past William and ignoring Dakota's concern. He disregarded the tears streaming down his cheeks and couldn't bring himself to leave his room for the rest of the night.
The clump of dust blew away in the wind and was gone the next morning.
Months later Vyn sits outside with Kota and Will, taking in every bit of scenery around him.
He's grown slightly fond of the smells and sounds of this place, no matter how obnoxious and loud they were. Kota tapped his foot and hummed a tune as he smiled brightly. Will swings his legs and looks longingly at the starless sky.
Prime only has one moon, he learns.
Vyn cautiously leans into Kota's shoulder, lightly singing along with him, though keeping his voice quiet. He can feel his feet digging into the soil below him.
And he feels safe.
A heat grows in Vyn's chest, swelling with every note of their song. It's a feeling akin to embarrassment, but entirely too positive to be that. He digs his fingers deep beneath the grass, raising the volume of his tune just a bit.
Kota does the same, now tapping his fingers in tandem with the nonexistent beat.
Vyn's eyes slip shut as the heat in his chest grows larger. He fails to recognize the fondness in Will's eyes as he sings. Comfort tingles at his fingertips and toes, a slightly familiar sensation he's no longer used to.
Suddenly, Kota lets out a gasp, startling him out of his thoughts and snapping him fully awake.
He flapped his hands wildly, pointing to Vyn and then to the space before them. Even Will's face holds a surprised, curious expression.
Vyn quickly snaps his head toward the subject of the commotion.
A large red rose (Which were incredibly common on Prime) blossomed beautifully in front of them. The petals churned with specks of an ethereal purple light that dripped down the stem, through the roots and directly toward Vyn.
Astonishment flowed against his skull as his heart beat hard on his ribcage.
He felt for the beat of life in the plant before him, the growth and death of the flora nipped at the edges of his thoughts.
His magic was back.
Kota bombarded him with a thousand questions, gesturing wildly at the scene in front of them, and Will couldn't help but butt in as well. They were only met with silence as Vyn looked at his own shivering hands, bewildered. The remnant of a slight glow leaves his finger pads.
The rose stands tall in their backyard, swaying gently in the wind.
Virion, for a second, thinks he can see the smile of a very proud mother.
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I’ve had an mlp jrwi riptide au floating in my head for the past week but I can’t draw so just so you know, Chip’s a blank flank.
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timelesslords · 5 months
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thinking about how the hunger games were designed to prove that without society, order, government, someone to rule, we devolve into little more than animals, and how the games themselves prove over and over again that this is not true. We see it in every single game we witness.
Katniss placing flowers around Rue's body in the arena. Thresh sparing Katniss because she was kind to Rue, even though he was making it that much harder for himself to win.
Haymitch going back for Maysilee after hearing her scream even though their alliance had been broken. Haymitch holding her as she dies the same way Katniss did Rue.
Coral's "I can't have killed them all for nothing" when she realizes she's not going home. Lamina cutting down Marcus at great personal risk. And, my favorite moment in tbosas, Reaper collecting the bodies of his fellow tributes, his peers, even the ones who tried to kill him, into a pile. Taking the weapons from their hands. Closing their eyes and crossing their arms in the best approximation of a proper burial he can manage, covering them with the Capitol flag as a makeshift shroud.
The Games bring out the worst in people, yes. But despite the extreme circumstances, despite the exterior pressure of the Capitol, despite the fact that it could mean pain and heartbreak and death, it also shows that people have an enormous capacity for goodness. That even in a situation purposefully designed to make empathy impossible, people can't help but have it anyway.
Snow looks at the Games and all he can see is what's inside himself-- this pure animalistic drive to conquer and defeat. He kills and it feels good and he thinks that everyone else must feel that way too. He doesn't realize (maybe can't realize) that he is the exception, not the rule. He cannot see outside himself, outside his own warped perspective, to realize that the fact that people do show humanity in the games proves his entire worldview wrong.
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clarisse-doodles · 2 months
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inspired by this post, in which Damian does not know what Vine is
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the-phantom-peach · 2 months
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skyward sword… yeah <3
Crimson Loftwing
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
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nazumichi · 2 years
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neurotypicals are so funny sometimes. “well, just don’t forget it next time.” holy shit. you’ve done it. you’ve fixed me. who knew memory problems could be solved so simply? i am no longer autistic, i am ready to join you at the social function. by god.
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kavaleyre · 4 months
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“After 200 years, you can forget how much color there is in the world.”
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