#and burn in hell etc

[dyllonatorrex-arts]

@whoipretended2b WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME HATE SOMEONE MORE THAN JOHN!?!?

[warlenys]

4.5 billion is so excessive. i love how excessive it is. if it was 4.5 million we’d be like fucking hell man that is crazy crazy love but 4.5 billion?? Billion????? BILLION??????? for no reason. insane

[daemon-in-my-head]

I'll never be over Sally calling her own son a dreadful child or saying she should've ended him before he was even born. I don't give a single flying fuck about the crimes he's committed (at least in this context). Nobody should talk about their child like that. And you know this absolutely vile woman probably told him this and much worse shit straight to his face. She said all that shit to a small kid that was presumably still innocent at that point. Aka, she most likely told her child it would be better if he were dead. Aka, she told her kid to kill himself. A FUCKING CHILD. And thx to the Belladonna lying around in their kitchen, I'm still convinced she tried to kill Gortash once he came back.

'Sold him cuz they needed money' my ass. You made your own kid, the person you were supposed to protect, pay for your own fuck ups and debts and mistakes and send him straight to hell. LITERALLY. FOR SOMETHING HE HAD NO FAULT IN. AND THEN THIS THING HAD THE AUDACITY TO TRY ND KILL HIM.

The absolute hatred and disgust I have for this fictional woman. I despise Bhaals A+ parenting, but this woman is worse than the fucking lord of murder. Imagine being more loathsome than an evil deity whose whole bit is goddamm murder and death. I swear to fucking god-

[bronzemirrorpolisher]

Truly and genuinely baffled that people have read MDZS and come to the conclusion that the villain is literally anything other than society.

[sleepingfancies]

they had to make cassandra disgusted by her own culture for some fucking reason bc they knew she'd be too powerful if she was a goth warrior woman

[princessnijireiki]

professional opinion is both of those lists are very white and maybe not VERY straight but very mainstream in a way that suggests a boringness of artistic taste I typically associate with straight people

[mossgoblins]

i am, obsessed with your art and how accurately you characterize faulkner and carpenter, it brings me so much joy

WAUGH THANK YOU SO MUCH....

[idylls-of-the-divine-romance]

Thinking: the concept of universal deicide, is like original sin in that if operating the way it's supposed to, it emphasizes the inherent equality of humanity and the gravity of sin.

The downside, is that both can also be horrifically abused by certain people who just wish to control others and prey on their insecurities

So there is that.

[witheredbloom]

i am torn between "PUT THE ALL MINDS BURN ON THE MOON I WANNA SEE WHAT IT'LL DO" and "DO NOT PUT THE ALL MINDS BURN ON THE MOON YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT'LL DO"

[the-walking-spoiler]

I have a lot of lingering feelings about roosterteeth, most of them negative, but the words “there are no punishments for the terrors that we inflict on ourselves” did impact me in a forever kind of way

[pocketramblr]

more Cadmus gripe time because I just finished the last boy on earth arc and ughhhh SB was so devastated to return home and find everyone gone, and we saw that Roxy spent weeks trying so hard to find him when everyone else said he was gone and good riddance, she even found Robin's number and asked Batman for help, she even went to see if Knockout knew anything, and everyone at Cadmus knows this- and when SB comes back from spending months as an amnesiac captive and wants so badly to see his friends again, they don't use their incredible resources to track down Roxy and help reunite them, they take him to Paris and claim it's because giving him a new scenery and something to hit will do him good and get his mind off it, but then it turns out they just want to field test him and get him to work for them. SB going from being exploited by Leech to exploited by Cadmus is bridged by a story where he's literally stripped of all agency and the ability to speak for himself and I'm going to scream.

[willczek-art]

Labyrinth of Numbers

Concept for a little paragraph "game" - following numbers hidden in the environment to explore a maze C:

[incinerator-deluxe]

imagine making a song as beautiful and true and heartrending as Man Is Like a Spring Flower by Lingua Ignota … i cant

[queercoded-disney-villain]

I don’t believe in any kind of afterlife, but I don’t believe that death is an end.

No matter how long or short a person’s life, they were known, they were loved. They made an impact on the people who knew them. And love for them lives far longer than they do.

Think of the way that one person can teach their mannerisms and habits and memories to countless others. And those people pass them on and those people pass them on and those people pass them on. One person lives forever in the lives of those who live after them.

Think of the art and architecture and writings and remains of people who lives millennia ago. Think of what we learn about ourselves by finding the tomb of someone buried centuries ago. Their existence impacts ours today. Our advancements are allowed by their innovations. Our lives are built off theirs.

And think of the tyrants and terrorizers and presidents and prime ministers that didn’t build a thing, but tore others down. We speak their names with spite. We live in spite of them. We do not love them. And we don’t allow ourselves to be molded in their image. We do not allow them to live on. And so, only for the worst of the worst, is death truly the end.

Because even those whose names are lost to time live on in love and ways that we cannot measure. But those whose names are remembered are those who we make an effort not to repeat.

[acourtofquestions]

Hearth to hearth, the Flame of War went.

Over snow-blasted mountains and amongst the trees of tangled forests, hiding from the enemies that prowled the skies. Through long, bitterly cold nights where the wind howled as it tried to wipe out any trace of that flame.

But the wind did not succeed, not against the flame of the queen.

So hearth to hearth, it went.

To remote villages where people screamed and scattered as a young-faced woman descended from the skies on a broom, waving her torch high.

Not to signal them, but the few women who did not run. Who walked toward the flame, the rider, as she called out, "Your queen summons you to war. Will you fly?"

Trunks hidden in attics were thrown open. Folded swaths of red cloth pulled from within. Brooms left in closets, beside doorways, tucked under beds, were brought out, bound in gold or silver or twine. And swords-ancient and beautiful—were drawn from beneath floorboards, or hauled down from haylofts, their metal shining as bright and fresh as the day they had been forged in a city now lying in ruin.

Witches, the townsfolk whispered, husbands wide-eyed and disbelieving as the women took to the skies, red cloaks billowing. Witches amongst us all this time.

Village to village, where hearths that had never once gone fully dark blazed in answer.

Always one rider going out, to find the next hearth, the next bastion of their people.

Witches, here amongst us. Witches, now going to war.

A rising tide of witches, who took to the skies in their red cloaks, swords strapped to their backs, brooms shedding years of dust with each mile northward.

Witches who bade their families farewell, offering no explanation before they kissed their sleeping babes and vanished into the starry night.

Mile after mile, across the darkening world, the call went out, ceaseless and unending as the eternal flame that passed from hearth to hearth.

"Fly, fly, fly!" they shouted. "To the queen! To war!"

Far and wide, through snow and storm and peril, the Crochans flew.

[exopelagic]

okay I severely misjudged spaghetti guy he’s actually just really cool