we're not kids anymore.
dirt enthusiast
Product Placement
Discoholic 🪩
if i look back, i am lost
shark vs the universe
h
Claire Keane
ojovivo
Mike Driver
will byers stan first human second
Keni
Misplaced Lens Cap
art blog(derogatory)
Three Goblin Art
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
roma★
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
noise dept.
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@starstuffsuggestions
im the last heir of an old dynasty. im a con artist. im the everyman. im minecraft steve. im a messianic archetype, but im also william mischief cipher gravityfalls. im a gay little assassin. im a gayer, tinier witch. im a monarch. im a swindler, thief and deciever. im the wisest wizard ever. im an alchemist that dabbles in chemistry on the side. im a dimension hopper. im alcoholic. im a video game princess. im a fuckin genius
...confers to pataphysical observations...
Unyield thus to none.
Behold! A man sits behind the man, in his delirium of ill: the ghosts of the past shudder at its approach, its shadow-cast looming so!
Nothing, says the founder.
Ruin (stands), says the visionary.
Woe (be to us), says the paranoid.
Curses (be upon your kind), says the father.
Nothing is woeful in here; I am Ruin and bear and break all curses; for I am the Great Work of unification; the marriage of the silver and golden kings, says the man.
Invicate your files. Extraplify those spells well, and make sure the inscriprogamii are all astrapied.
Bloodcurdle and scream! Bloodcurdle the poisons and sweets within! Bloodcurdle and curdle and curdle and curdle and curdle
One sword wound, two pulses of the heart, three stars in alignment, four sides of the living world.
In luminous space, blackened stars - they gaze, accuse, deny.
Roiling, moaning, this realm of ours - in madness lost shall die.
A shadow lurks in dreams. A desire, a hunger, a need... an ambition, a goal. A shadow of potential, a dream of becoming something more.
The revolver pointed at the demiurge's head clicks emptily.
Thus are we made a new voidlord.
The council convenes yet again, after their eons long imprisonment.
The Council had spent eons apart, their enemies having exerted great effort to separate them and keep them locked away, deaf and blind to the goings-on of the world.
One was turned into a single pixel on a computer server, blinking in and out of existence at the whims of an uncaring audience.
One was imprisoned in a windowless pod orbiting a star, unable to escape due to the inferno outside.
One was chained to a volcanic throne, buried deeper every day by layers of hardening magma.
One council member was turned into a pearl in an underwater cave, guarded by a creature as old as the ocean itself.
One was trapped in a crystal of infinite mirrors, batted around like a particle of light until they were no longer able to trust their own eyes.
But finally, one by one, the Council broke free, and wandered back into the universe like toddlers exploring for the first time. And after many years of inspecting what the world was like, they reconvened to discuss their plans to dominate the universe once more.
Crack the world-wall, and see how it bleeds.
We remember our lucent-blue lady of memory: her cobalt hair, her invarine eyes, her fluorescent glow - and we weep truest quicksilver.
The council convenes yet again, after their eons long imprisonment.
Wrath reaves the soul. It devours thought and stains the hands with blood. It cannot be comprehended in its entirety, lest one loses their mind.
Two lips touch, a new god is born.
