fly-lumiere
fly-lumiere
man i love octupuses
244 posts
Que se yo me chupa un huevo todoFan de la Patria Grande, Latinoamérica y todos los paises hermanos subyugados 🇦🇷🇦🇲🇵🇸Sometimes I draw !Solo hay una cosa mas grande que el amor a la Libertad; El odio a quien te la quita
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fly-lumiere · 22 days ago
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Heeeeeelllooo yall, i know i have been MIA (sad emoji), sadly, I have been given the burden and bread-feeding obligation of a Job. Anyways, im in a hurry rn so I give yall this Stupid ass Fancy Ronodin tm For now. I have a lot of drawings I want to share with you but that'll have to wait until I have a bit of free time, kisses and hugs !
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fly-lumiere · 3 months ago
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1000 ways Immortality would fuck up an human
Orrr my first ever Morpheus fanfic.
Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless/The Sandman x F!reader
Summary: You are a lonely mortal who dreams a lot. That's it. Sooner or Later you would end up facing the Lord of Dreams himself. And sooner or later you would tangle yourself in the ever lonely world of dreams.
Authors note (long) (I'm a yapper): aight, I'm not sure how to properly describe this fic. To be completely honest, I do not expect someone to do read it. It's the most self-indulgent story I've ever written. I am writing it only for me, as a way to self reflect and self-comfort me in the (for now) worst moment of my life along with long Sundays workshifts were no clients come, but I do welcome you all to read it (that's why I'm posting it obviously) plus, fundamentally, we all do suffer in the same ways so who knows.
Also, I haven't read The Sandman comics (I may do it after the serie ends) (if god allows it to be finished inshalla) so most of the things here I pulled out of my ass.
Also fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you with most utterly disrespect @neil-gaiman now i own your work fuck you x10
Warnings: Excesive use of you, bad grammar, mentions of slaughter
First Chapter; The End
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In the same way sunlight would wrap, the darkness of the eternal night condensed along countless blinking stars surrounded you, enveloping your legs and tangling on your arms.
Starry skies became your mantle as you walked through a meadow —or that's what you thought it was— surrounded by trees made of silver and gold, you were looking for something.
What, you were not sure.
Inside of your chest, or in the heaviness of your stomach, a feeling almost premonitory pushed you forward.
Besides you, there were running odd animals, chimeras between rabbits and leopards, with horns curved the same as goats.
Your ears were freezing and as you adjusted the blanket over your shoulders, you felt the tide lick your feet with its cold tongue.
The rocks at the shore formed long, deep mouths. Which laughed at the moment you opened your own. 
“Where is the path to…?” But before you could even finish, they moaned long, as a mocking whine.
“What are you looking for? What are you looking for?” howled the wind besides your head, the moment you turned around to reply, the mountain in front of you cracked in two, opening the way to what it looked like the depths of the earth itself.
Hell, it occurred to you.
At every step, the wind grew stronger, whipping at your cheeks, deafening you.
You felt how it lifted you up to the sky. Stars caressed you one last time before you found yourself at the ground, snuggled below your heavy blanket.
Countryside rats ran around the flowers, the warmth of your body made you realize the nature of your dream.
You closed your eyes, your feet hurt, but the wind was fresh, you could rest in the meadow, below your blanket.
In dreams no one would ever find you.
“What are you looking for?” Murmured a voice beyond the wind, as deep as the night sky, soft as a lullaby.
It was snowing. 
The scenery dyed in whites. A blurry ink stain against it all, drawing away or creeping closer, you could not have guessed.
Maybe you felt safer than ever, for which you sank your face into the blanket, bringing your knees to your chest.
“I don't want to wake up” You heard yourself beg, too late, feeling sleep tear away from your eyes.
Sun prickled your skin as you dug in the backyard of your humble house.
You needed a new hideout for your scarce coins.
Your father had stolen the remaining ones from beneath your mattress and had spent them returning home at night, stinking of outside and violence.
Your mother muttered under her breath from the kitchen about ungratefulness, cruelty, and something rotten inside you. 
Dry dirt gave away with difficulty under your weight, arms aching and burning, but the tinkle of silver in the only pocket of your skirt was motivation enough.
You have had the same dream too many times. 
Your fingers had brushed the impossible possibility of a fantastical escape enough that you found yourself tired at the idea of repeating it again. And again and again. All with the same ending. 
Three sad coins fell into the barely deep hole; along with them, all your remaining hope.
You would tear the dreams off your eyes, face reality for once. From that hole you would build a stable future. Bright and calm.
You threw the last pile of dirt with bleeding hands.
“If you were to choose between forgetting all of your life and start a new one as of now or forget every bad memory but keep on living the same way, what would you choose?”
“Why would I want to keep on living like this? I would still make bad memories” you murmured before throwing a stone at the surface of the lake. It skipped only twice before sinking.
Your best friend smiled with sympathy 
“The same terrible thing doesn't happen twice.” 
“True. The second time it’s worse.” 
You were insufferable, you knew that by now. 
Being around you was depressing and you could not help it.
Sometimes the world was too bright, the people loud and carefree, friends naive, laughter easy.
Sometimes you would convince yourself of it, that you belonged there, and then you would come back to a cold house, faces that avoided you, your little brother snuggled in the bed you shared crying or staring at the wall from two black, swollen eyes.
People used to fly in dreams, float over clouds with the lightheartedness of those that are loved and taken care of, while your feet were heavy on the ground that demanded your compliance with duties that weren't your own.
The day you got engaged, you dreamt of something you had never seen before; a swamp full of coloring, dancing lights.
You were waist deep inside the water. At the bottom, unknown things would caress your calves. 
Small beings sat at the shore, sipping from a wooden bowl, inviting you to join them at their dawn talk.
They would laugh out loud; some were tuning crude guitars.
You heard frogs, crickets in the background. The water was warm and it enveloped you.
“Mother, Mother, tell us a tale. Sing us a story that will make us sleep’’ The elves claimed. 
Something in you stirred. Those were your children. You realized you loved them, you would die for them.
You looked over at them and deep in your gut the desire for them to return there, safe from everything. You would swallow them, carry them inside you, where to get to them, you should be cut open first.
‘’I will sing, I will sing for you, my children, my heart’’ You heard yourself as they dragged you out of the swamp, far, upwards.
Your husband, the son of the neighbor who was friends with your father, with his blurry eyes and big hands, was standing at the edge of the cliff. Your house. Where you all lived, under the scorching sun, surrounded by the white stones.
He was shaking a pillow of heavy feathers. You sat with your children, before realizing that the pillow was your brother, and as you sang about clouds, he was thrown into the abyss that would open like a mouth.
‘’What will it be of me when you wed?’’ you heard him whisper and your chest loosened in relief. You opened your eyes, he was not at the foot of the bed, as you both used to sleep. He laid by your side.
Big scared eyes. You caressed his cheek.
‘’I’ll take ya with me’’ the horror of watching him fall into the abyss still throbbed inside you, weakening before every warm exhale of his over your palm.
‘’Father says I must become the man of the house. That you shall do your life and go away from here forever’’
It was true, you knew it. Once married, you would be taken to your husband's house. Everything would end. The insomnia and fear, your parents. Your Father and Mother. The long days charged in dread. The humidity, cold food. And your brother and his laugh. The scare flowers that grew in the backyard.
You would go and leave your baby brother behind. Alone, helpless. Crying in a big bed, bleeding, without a hand to caress his wounds until they closed.
Big scared eyes drying into the absent gesture of your father. 
“Father knows nothing,” you whispered instead. “No one will take me away from you’’
He did not believe you.
You did not hate your father nor loved him.
Cruelty, hunger, and scorching sun had melted into his skin, the selective death of those with your same eyes, his face, your face, the one from your mother and brother.
You only saw him cry once.
Surrounded by vomit and the penetrating smell of alcohol, he blubbered about the slaughter. The way corpses would fall into the pits. The bets on who would be next, how would they fall.
He had seen a baby girl fall naked, legs only skin attached to bone.
‘’She had your eyes, your same hair’’ And it was then when he thought; if children could be so easily disposed of, why should he have them and curse them with that chance?
Condemned. Condemned anybody that would come from someone that looked like him.
Like them, like you.
The pieces of a language that beat inside your arms, in your blood and chest, impossible to understand, left his mouth the moment he had given you to another man. 
And that was the last thing you ever heard from him.
The dessert was infinite. 
You knew you should feel heat; your father spoke of it as the place where things went to die.
Dead or not, the sand dragged by the wind scratched your cheeks; far away, a red river could be seen.
People around you walked in line, heads hanging low, covered in veils.
Everybody held something: spheres or sometimes just wands of light.
Your hands were empty, empty and hollow. Your bones rattled inside. 
“Over the sea. Over the sea we will be fine. Salvation awaits us. Let us walk, let us walk” something whispered. It wasn't them, it was a lone whistling voice.
You bordered the river, too deep for your feet. You must find the birth and fill the buckets with water to cook the stew for tonight.  
You heard splashing on your back.
From the earth arose a huge woman. She cried and from her eyes the river was born.
The blackest hair you ever saw in your life, in her tight curls she held endless skies, secrets of creation.
You saw life and all things twist on them.
“I know you” you felt.
Your voice made her eyes open.
“You shouldn't be here” her voice was the sweetest. It cradled you, it spoke of flowers, sun rays and hurricane winds.
“I am”
“You shouldn't see me”
“I do” you murmured. “I believe I always did. I think I am condemned to you”
“Here is where your story starts, Psyche.” 
Then you were in front of another figure, tall. White sun covered its hooded face. It was handing you over a book in which your hands rested without realizing it.
“Are you talking to me? That's not my name.”
“And here is where it ends” wherever you were, the landscape buzzed with life.
The cold air made you feel awake.
“The answer to your questions is not in me. Wake up. Your legacy is about to be born”
You awoke when the contractions had begun.
...
You hadn't slept in weeks.
“I hate you. I hate you” you murmured as you cradled your daughter over and over.
Her screams had started a whistle inside your head hours ago, your husband was starting to get impatient.
He paced in the farthest room with the heavy footsteps, omen of a terrible outburst.
No matter how much you begged, locked in the dark closet, she wouldn't shut up.
You had put your breast in her mouth, changed her clothes, rubbed heat on her, to no avail.
You wrapped her in scarves, and covered your head with sacks until the screams were muffled.
When you opened your eyes again, darkness enveloped you.
''Your ability to dream surprises me ''From all sides, in all directions, darkness spoke, with its deep voice, capable of swallowing you whole.
''I'm sorry. ''
''Mortals shouldn't live in dreams. ''
''I know'' You sighed, Your fingers on your face. '' But I'm so tired.''
The darkness tugged at you, insistent, wanting you to mold it, to believe it as something extraordinary and beyond reach.
''My brother…''
If you focused hard enough, clenching your fists, you could conjure him up.
Even if it was a lie, a dream. At least, the only place he could live would be your mind, where you would keep him safe.
''You can't shape dreams to your liking. It does not work like that.''
''Shut up. Shut up!'' You felt the world spin and deform around you, you pawed at the air, at the darkness, hoping to find that insidious mouth, until something cold squeezed your wrists.
You blinked, the darkness giving way, clearing up.
And when you realized, an impassive face in front of yours.
Eternal eyes, that spoke of ancient skies, the existence of stars, their lives and deaths.
Black eyebrows furrowed in a disdainful gesture.
From the depths of your being, from the same place where all certainty was born, along with the most secret feelings, something whispered to you that you knew that being.
How you knew who your mother and father were, the way you would recognize your creator.
''A mortal who does not know her… ''But he did not manage to finish before you slapped him.
You saw the anger on his face, reality deforming into a blur and then you woke up.
Your baby slept between the scarves, with no traces of crying but your own.
...
Your head was smoking, the world was reduced to a dark grid, you moved forward, floating.
Perfect spheres were the entrance to eternal, dark corridors, the edges glowing orange.
Amidst the darkness, a white bathtub stood out, your hands disappeared in the water. When you took them out, your daughter.
She screamed, cried and scratched your wrists, the burning made you wet them again, taking her with her. Waves broke against you.
‘’Your daughter hates you’’ The darkness murmured.
‘’I know. I deserve it.’
‘’Do you?’’
‘’I’m not a good mother.’’ You became aware of your hands, five fingers on each one. Dry, calloused. ‘’I don’t think I’m a good person, either.’’
‘’Incredibly self-aware for a human.’’
‘’Is consciousness reserved only for incomprehensible beings? Such an ignorant statement.''
“Humans must be the only species that dies from excessive bravery.” For the first time you saw him clearly: Alabaster skin, shiny as porcelain, the hair of a creature from nightmares and eyes so black they looked like a bottomless hole. Wrapped in the night sky.
“Maybe we are the only ones without fear of the consequences.”
“Nonsense. There is no being that fears death more than a human.”
“Death or uncertainty?”
“Do you dare to know more about humanity than the being that carries its collective unconscious within itself?”
You raised your face towards him, his angry tone, of thunderstorms and boiling stars, sounded ridiculous to you.
‘’Are you human?’’
‘’I am a being beyond your understanding, a pillar of existence, I am the king of…’’
‘’Are you human?’’
He exhaled, angry, the coldness growing around you, your body tingled in alert, but you remained seated before his growing height.
‘’No. I am much more, I am….’’
‘’Then you know nothing’’ You interrupted. ‘’Gods or creatures, eternal or ephemeral. Condemned to an endless life of nothing, they despise a humanity they do not understand. Death scares no one more than those who enjoy life. True terror lies in not knowing. Uncertainty. Darkness is scary not because it is dark but because of the monsters we ourselves create, even more horrible than any reality.’’
‘’Tell me something, Oh King, is there anything more terrible than uncertainty? Is there a monster greater than the one to whom we give all our greatest fears, made to the exact measure of us?’’ Something denser than silence filled your ears, you took the opportunity to scratch the dried blood from your hands, The Thing watched you as if a rat had recited an epic poem, you did not doubt that this was how it saw you ‘’No one fears death, you either lived loved in satisfaction or so hated as to long for it’’
‘’Vain creature. You speak with the arrogance of someone who dreams more than it lives’’
‘’True. That is why I am here’’ You looked around, fields blooming, bright, vibrating with life ‘’In hell’’
‘’You are not in hell’’
‘’Too real to be a dream, too dead to be reality, This is my eternal punishment and you the Dark King who imparts it’’
‘’Do not dare speak of my kingdom with contempt, mortal. You are a guest, you would do well to remember your place.’’ Somehow, the horizon stretched out, your vision feeling short before the enormity of the landscape, changing, like scraps of memories sewn into the sky. ‘’You are in The Dreaming, in the refuge of sleeping minds, where dreams and nightmares are created by me, their Creator. Their king and Lord.'' But then it looked at you, shattering every material you were made of. ''Yet, you defy death and enjoy dreams while your reality perishes at your feet because of your mistakes.''
Your daughter, the memory of her small wrists glued to yours in the bathtub flashed through your mind. Your little brother, your lonely mother and your crazy father. Your blood burned. You stood.
‘’And where is the crown that gives you position over me, King? Where is your power, if I am still not kneeling before you? God, creator or creature, your magic blinds you. You do not live according to your desires. You do not live, yet you believe you dictate the actions of others. Pillar of existence, yet you do not exist by yourself, do you? You create the dreams, then I will create one even more magnificent than you, with my filthy human hands and my mortal mistakes. I am a collection of experiences. You are a collection of stories. Learn your place.’’
Anger. For the first time, you recognized anger, the birth of fury twisting in spirals of pain within those inhuman eyes.
‘’I should destroy you…’’
‘’Kill me’’ You challenged. ‘’Kill me, tear me apart and abuse your unjust power. I will live longer than you, my ephemeral existence will torment you until your last breath. I am only a human but I will be torn apart as a humanity. Only me, but in every part of me, thousands of us. Divine punishment is nothing compared to what we have survived, what we have inflicted. A God is no match for human cruelty, and our despicable cruelty perishes before the minimum trace of hope. You are just one. My story is that of thousands.’’
‘’Hope’’ He repeated ‘’You think hope will save you from your foolishness’’
‘’I think hope proves I’m still alive’’
‘’Still’’ The echo filled your blood with ice, but you didn’t lower your gaze. The silence stretched, heavy. ‘’What do you want?’’
‘’Want? Me? Nothing. Nothing, I just… I just want…’’ You rubbed your eyelids. You didn’t even know what you wanted, there wasn’t much anyway. You had to be a wife, a mother, and die as a grandmother who has instructed the next generation.’’...I want… I would like to know’’ your hands fell, somewhere, your knees cracked and yet, you stood ‘’I wish to find out. For there to be a place for me in this world’’
‘’Perhaps you could’’
‘’What?’’ The man furrowed his brow, losing sight at the horizon. Even though his face seemed to possess as much emotion as a rock, you were certain he was brooding about something you could not understand.
‘’You could find a purpose’’ he clarified, talking to you as an equal for the first time ‘’Tell me a one reason you should keep on living and I will make sure you never die’’
‘’Why?... I dont… I dont have any. I'm not indispensable. Dead or Alive should change nothing. There's nothing remarkable about me. Only… only tiredness*’’
‘’Arrogance’’
Then you realized.
‘’You want to punish me’’ You weren't given a reply you needn't. You licked your lip ‘’... With eternity? Ignorant. As if Time shaped us and not our insatiable need for movement’’
‘’Need for movement?’’ He echoed, slowly ‘’Or Inercy? Your kin does not move forward, it is just pushed. Mere whims of Destiny’’
‘’And you accuse me of arrogance’’ You exhaled, mockingly ‘’Such a thing as destiny does not exist. Nor free choice. Destiny. As if something as malleable as existence could be chained to a single path. Only someone as condemned to purpose as a god could think that…’’
‘’Enough’’ It said, and his voice sounded like thunder from a forming storm. He raised his hand, the air trembled, your head started aching, your skin boiling as if the sun itself were burning you even as it was not present in the strange sky.
Your body betraying you, obeying the divine command, aching, stinging. The creature changed forms before your eyes, turning shadow or air, even dark currents.
Years went by, centuries of human history scratching your skin, crushing your bones, taking out the air of your mouth.
Time cracked the bones of your ribcage, only for when you tried to inhale, find yourself in the same second you left.
You were in the ground, the same dream where reality seemed more fantastic, you thought that whenever you woke up, you would not remember any of this and felt relief.
‘’What have you done to me?’’ You stood up, the world spinning around you for the last time, his eyes held you in place.
‘’Live’’ He said, simply ’’And see how wrong you are’’
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fly-lumiere · 5 months ago
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Not Fablehaven fanart but Vivan los Novios <3<3<3
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fly-lumiere · 6 months ago
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Ay if any of you have an outfit/character idea to be drawn TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME
I may have no inspiration but I am always up to draw (Anything, I swear)
Imma feed yall one last time before my inspiration runs shot, also, with old crumbles but here you go, Some Fablehaven characters with outfits i found on pinterest
Kendra
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Seth
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Vanessa
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And thats it....
for now.......?
a tiraba esa
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fly-lumiere · 6 months ago
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Imma feed yall one last time before my inspiration runs shot, also, with old crumbles but here you go, Some Fablehaven characters with outfits i found on pinterest
Kendra
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Seth
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Vanessa
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And thats it....
for now.......?
a tiraba esa
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fly-lumiere · 6 months ago
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The trend is over but im still here (I wasnt sure of uploading it back when i did it but now that found this again i think its worth the shot)
Anyway my 2 favs ever beloved1 beloved2
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fly-lumiere · 6 months ago
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Also, (idk if much of a tip tbh) but treat the subjet at hand with the same respect you would like someone to treat any kind of your own issue, For example, I am Latinamerican and im always complaining about latinoamerican representation.
And when Im writing a character that its not from latam, I research on the things *i* wish were researched the other way.
And this can work with anything, If you are queer/poc/neurodivergent/women you can relate to the feeling of being badly represented, so you tread carefully along other topics as well.
if you’re white and wanna write a poc character and feel awkward about it i implore you to ignore any twitblr stuff treating it as a massive ethical burden and instead come in more with the same mindset you’d have if you wanted to write about idk firefighters but didn’t know anything about firefighters so you do... research. Like fuck off with the weird kinda creepy calls for spiritual introspection you’re not writing about god damn space aliens you’re writing about humans and if you think you need more perspective of different life experiences just read?
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fly-lumiere · 6 months ago
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I stand correct btw, Awful english (inglish) but correct nevertheless oooo sphinx my love for you is so big that I molded you into a character of my own, I gave you purpose and love and a home and a terrible ending nonetheless but a joyous life anyway.
And you gave me SO MUCH headache aaaannnd a newfound love of the African cause aaandd a sense of community and brotherhood among African and Latinoamerican conflicts, Brothers in arms, pain and misery. Utterly idealistic of myself but you also gave me that i love you my king top 3 fav characters mwah mwah mwah
AND ALSO so many enemies I sacrifice hair and chickens for they downfall, I unblocked this stupid ass bitch that i didnt like because i wanted to grow up but i got pissed AGAIN goood hear them talking about being called Ethiopian being offensive without knowing 1 (one) thing of the ever proud nation of Ethiopia, the oldest of them all, good god tell me your country isnt your biggest pride without telling me etc etc
anyway king 100%
Alright people,i am about to start reading Dragonwatch in inglish (I read that The sphinx still being a bad ass and i have to read it,look how big my love is) even when my brain gets tired of read-translate-understand by reading a lot of inglish things (All the tumblrs i follow are inglish,cause for a reason that i dont understand,mys panas latinos hasnt have tumblr) but anyway. I will sending updates while i read as long i dont fall asleep, thats because i dont have any friends and i need to talk with anybody about this. So yeah, wait for them
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fly-lumiere · 6 months ago
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¡But I dont like The Sphinx, He is too evil and hot and smart and cunning! he's sooo mean he should be in the demon prison the bastard 😭😭😭yeah well *Decapitates your ugly twink*
(TW: gore (Ig??)
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And a christmas one as well Ajuaa feliz navida
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fly-lumiere · 6 months ago
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¡But I dont like The Sphinx, He is too evil and hot and smart and cunning! he's sooo mean he should be in the demon prison the bastard 😭😭😭yeah well *Decapitates your ugly twink*
(TW: gore (Ig??)
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And a christmas one as well Ajuaa feliz navida
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fly-lumiere · 6 months ago
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And this one is for the Real ones TM the Sphinx stans out there, love you girlys mwah happy christmas yall
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fly-lumiere · 6 months ago
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Yall may have Vanessa Santoro as a Pirate as a Christmas treat
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fly-lumiere · 6 months ago
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Actuslly 🤓☝️ L.M Is in east turkey (it could even be Armenia) but yeah I get your point
Fablehaven AU where they live at the Living Mirage instead
ideas for it: - Instead of hugo they use stingbulbs to help them get their chores done - Most of the chores include tending to the trees and other exotic plants, but Grandpa Sorenson won’t let them near the super dangerous ones - Seth likes to venture out to see the Rocs, despite his grandfather’s warning - He also (secretly) visits the dungeon. First time he went he he found the rec room, and beat the highscore on all the pinball machines - when he went back he had found that someone had beaten all his scores - The Sphinx guards fablehaven instead, and a lot of the creatures there might work for him - I don’t know if they would swap the artifacts, or if Grandpa Sorenson is some immortal guy who may or may not be trying to open a demon prison - If Grandpa Sorenson is evil, then instead of journeying to the other artifacts to protect them, Kendra and Seth would unknowingly be trying to open the demon prison - or maybe they do know, and think that their Grandpa’s cause is plausible until The Sphinx or Vanessa or Bracken or someone convinces them - Vanessa would still work for the Sphinx. Bracken is in Stan’s basemen- I mean dungeon
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fly-lumiere · 1 year ago
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I'm never forgetting the Palestinian babies that were left to starve to death then rot in their beds by the IOF.
I'm never forgetting the Palestinian doctors surrounded by bodies of dead children begging the world to stop the slaughter.
I'm never forgetting the Palestinian children who held a press conference in English to beg the world to stop murdering them because they want to live.
I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Priest who said "We will not accept your apology after the genocide" to the world.
I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Imam who used the speakers of the Mosque, not to call people to prayer but to call out to God while the world around them was burning from American supplied Israeli bombs.
I'm never forgetting the grandfather who held his dead grandchild in his arms. Or the father carrying the remains of his two children in plastic shopping bags. Or the mother holding her dead child in a shroud. Or the father sitting among the rubble after he lost his whole family. Or the girl trapped under a broken building begging for people to save her family first. Or the boy who cried when he saw his brother alive. Or the girl who asked if she was still alive after being pulled from the rubble. Or the boy who carried the remains of his brother in his backpack. Or the old man the IOF used for a photoshoot before they shot him dead after getting pictures. Or the little boy wearing plastic gloves to pick up the remains of his family. Or the graves desecrated. Or the body of that small baby girl left alone in a tent because no one knew who she was or if her family was alive, small and alone and not one person who knew her name to bury her. Or the young boy who was shot in the street while his sister watched from the window. Or the men and boys who were stripped naked in winter. Or those tortured. Or those made to stand in open graves. Or the people who were raped by IOF soldiers. Or Palestinian workers kidnapped by the IOF and then labeled with wristbands, each one reduced to a number, then made to walk back to Gaza to be killed in the world's largest open air concentration camp. Or the people of Gaza starving because Israeli Zionists are blocking aid trucks. Or the Israelis dancing and celebrating the death of Palestinians. Or the lies spread by Zionists and their supporters. Or the people profiting off the oppression and deaths of Palestinians. Or the people of the West Bank being killed or kidnapped by the IOF. Or old woman who was older than the creation of the terror state of "Israel" who was shot by snipers for saying that. Or the Israelis dressed up as Palestinians to enter a hospital and kill three Palestinians in their beds. Or every single Palestinian currently kept in an Israeli prison. Or the journalists, doctors, poets, men, women, children, and the unborn all massacred. Or the fact that WCNSF exists now. Or the woman who refused to wash the blood from her hands. Or the dead, unburied and unmourned.
I'm never forgetting those who chose silence in the face of a genocide.
I may not know all their names but I will not forget the over 30,000 Palestinians dead. Or the over 60, 000 people hurt. Or the unknown number of people missing, still lost under the rubble. Or the 12,000 children slaughtered. An entire generation crippled or murdered.
I will never forget these things when Palestine is free.
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fly-lumiere · 2 years ago
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“We’ll make the Sphinx a guardian of the demon prison so he has to die if it’s ever to be opened again”
No. Wrong. Put him in a quiet box or whatever happened to Seth that one time where he could feel nothing
It’s the closest he’ll get to dying without the comfort of knowing it will end.
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fly-lumiere · 2 years ago
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OH, the fact that human instincts arent only fight or flight but to dance, to tell story and befriend, or when Morpheus said "I am Hope" and Lucifer remained silent bc theres nothing that can kill hope and when the sun rises ,again, and you realize you can try again and when it gets better and and when the beauty of it all, of how we all take so much time on hit rock bottom bc we all are waiting to find something worth living for because we want to live, without realizing that -thats- enough reason to keep going and and when self-loathe is just a desperate, last attempt so somebody can show they care, when that somebody who cares is you and it always gonna be you the only person you'll need to take on the world
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fly-lumiere · 2 years ago
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Kendra doing her litlle magic on Raxtus.
God I can't draw dragons, drawing Raxtus was Hell xd
Any ways, I hope you like it.
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