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He walked. He walked the barren lands and dried seas. He walked everywhere and nowhere. He walked with nothing but Priscilla's head clutched to his chest, her body descrated from the destruction he himself caused. All that he left in his wake was his footsteps — and soon, his sanity.
So he talked.
He talked and talked. He talked through lifeless banks and ashen cities. He talked of everything and nothing — the war, the world, the origins. He talked and no one listened. But his words would be engraved on the world he would soon leave, quite literally hanging in the air waiting to be heard.
It's a punishment, he thinks to himself as he buries his everything.
It's only as he is entering his prison when the smallest speck of life grows from the skull that used to be. And it's only a million or a billion or infinite years later, where life is lush on the lands again.
A boy is born screaming — the voice in his head is deafening.
Ŧħɇ Nɇŧwøɍꝁ ɨs̷ n̷øŧ ħa̷ᵽᵽɏ.
Here is the second and last of 2 videos from a year ago that I posted on tiktok and now I'm transferring to tumblr.
At the time, I wanted to do a little bit of Vallety's parents' Lore, but at the time I was too lazy to draw and/or animate even a little, so I did everything in gacha life/club, and this video was no different.
I had come across an audio of the "The Last Unicorn" movie/series(I don't remember) and soon noticed that the audio was about 92% compatible with their Lore so I put 1+1 together
It's kind of bad and the quality may have gotten worse because, TikTok, right, but I still think it's a cool concept :)
The moment Ilara says "I am human" is not, like, her renouncing her origins and accepting that she is now human, or at least partially human.
It's a moment of outburst, of exhaustion, one of those moments where you say things you don't really agree with or think about, a vulnerable moment, caused by the extreme body dysmorphia she felt, which Hansuke helped her overcome, because she is a siren, no matter what her body is, no matter what anyone says, no matter what anyone does/did to her.
And that will never change.
azula is feeling rather mischievous
Based on that one gacha life meme but I can't find the original 😔😔😔
Mino
“Relationship”. I’m not sure about the meaning of this drawing because as I said, I’m trying hard to don’t overthink things. And the text in background is a gossip that goes around Martra:
“Did you hear the rumor? They say Maivtre has a lover, and Odabrani knows it! Why he doesn't act? Why he doesn't complain? He can be angry. Maivtre is being unfaithful and with her knight! Is that Lewie shameless?! They were siblings (close friends); nobody expected them to have this (love) relationship! And how did Maivtre lose at this sin? In all times, Maivtre and Odabrani were the perfect relationship (couple). How does she dare to destroy this reputation?”
when she travels through multiple universes looking to find a version of her dead girlfriend to date only to find put out they hate eachother in every universe where one of them isn't dead
I’m so normal about them guys, totally normal!! ( not in fact, normal)
blehh. i know i need to write to finally return from my hiatus but i can’t just post unfinished slop on ao3. luckily, this place exists!!
warnings: pretty bloody and gore-y(?), perhaps a little gay. non-graphic depictions of violence!
summary: gabriel and v1 at the end of a fight, the robot does just a little thinking.
Staring up at Gabriel with a large yellow optic was the damned machine, cast down from Earth into the bowels of Hell. Blood and dents and cuts rended open with clawed gauntlets littered their chassis, whatever odd mixture of oil and biological matter they had in there leaking out pathetically onto the floor below.
Justice and Splendor framed their head, the regal blades stained with essence both angelic and inanimate. Angels were supposed to bleed ichor, and yet here he was, a distinct red drip-dripping down from the chin of his helmet.
V1 would laugh were the blood enough to heal. But it landed against their plating uselessly, drying and clotting easily in Hell’s heat. They both panted, or at least would if either of them had the lungs for it. Gabriel’s side had long since been blasted open with a clever hit of buckshot, and V1 was severed into pieces like a cheap toy.
Each fight had been like a dance. The first was wide evasion, dashing and running and pushing and pulling. Each hit and miss was the rock of a boat, swaying their world back and forth with displays of rage and power. The second — this one — had been close and personal. Grappling hands and clinging nails, feet stubbornly dug into the floor and weapons all but forgotten in the proximity.
And they were beautiful. Together, in their blood and weapons, stuttering fans and coughs, fists and bullets and blades. Separate in V1’s precise design and Gabriel’s empty aura that dared brush up against their being, bringing them back together once again. It was all V1 could think as Gabriel joined them with the plunge of Splendor through their chest: they were beautiful.