It's time to FLY STELLA!!
*push*
@myfishei @mightybeck @myfishei-rp
!!!
BECK!! She wasn’t ready or fully prepared!!
Stella: Help!!!!
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new upgrade
I got some wings now that all
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Talaria
Blank pages.
Inscribed upon by Sages.
Proclimations spread far and wide.
Movement gets better.
Heart as a feather.
As we learn to reticulate with high tide.
Wind at our feet.
Visages we meet.
Four corners to flank at all times.
Assimilating the benisons.
Integrating in full unison.
New wings taken for a ride.
~Osian~
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do you ever think about how a series of tiny choices like "I guess I'll watch that show" can like totally and entirely change huge aspects of your life
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Led through the mist
By the milk-light of Moon
All that was lost, is revealed
Our long bygone burdens, mere echoes of the spring
But where have we come, and where shall we end?
If dreams can't come true, then why not pretend?
Oh, how the gentle wind
Beckons through the leaves
As autumn colors fall
Dancing in a swirl
Of golden memories
The loveliest lies of all 🍂♪
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This Jackhira’s evolved form… ^^
(Now she has wings…)
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Azriel: *sneezes and shadows come out of his nose*
Rhysand:
Amren:
Morrigan:
Cassian:
Feyre:
Nesta: ………So we are all just going to ignore that?
Cassian: Oh my bad; bless you, Azriel.
Nesta: THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT
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Prompt 274
You know what is fun? Baby Ghost Jason. You know what could be even more fun? Ghosts are Dragons.
Jason? Aware of none of this.
He was on comms, y’know listening and rolling his eyes at Dickwing, who used his real name, really Dick, he mocks. It’s just a stakeout, nothing new there, honestly boring when he could be blowing something up instead. It should have just been a stakeout.
Yet there’s something suddenly there, something behind him. Something that causes his hair to stand on end and his comms to spark into static like some sort of horror movie. Something, something with clawed hands with corpse-pale skin tipped in black, stained or dead or something else, tilting his head up and up and up as he’s frozen.
“A child, out here? Alone?” a voice crackles, hisses, hums, and purrs, somehow all at once, unnatural in its tone. He can’t move, he needs to move, he has to move, but it’s like the space around him has gone cold and dead, like he’s stuck in the Pits once more as claws hold his head and his vision blurs. “Sleep, child. Rest- we’ll be home soon.”
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