#Man this was long

[kharrneth]

Prince Ograx the Great

Ograx Ka'kadron'ath is the Beastfiend Warlord of the Skullfest Warherd, a eight-tribe strong group of animal-daemon fusions and hybrids that live in the Southern Chaos Wastes. As Beastfiends of Khorne, these daemonkin inhabit Haemorrhagia, a violent, fiery landscape covered in black ice and broiling blood as well as vents that vomit forth newborn daemons. Many Beastlords make claim to this hostile land, but it is the Skullfest Herd who commands the largest and choicest parcel of land and has held that land for generations.

Ograx himself was born to one of Skullfest’s eight Wargors; the Bullfiend Ogra the Brass Blessed. Ogra was an extremely rare Beastdoe Wargor, blessed with the Mark of Khorne and leading one of the eight Warherds beneath the Beastlord Hargathor. The Beast-Prince was sired not by a fellow Daemonblood, but the Bloodthirster of Khorne Z’rughl Ka’kadron’nath. In fact, he was one of several half-fiends born to the Brass Horn Tribe, the aftermath of a carnal rampage by his sire, one the Blood God Khorne swiftly punished the Bloodthirster for.

However, Z’rughl’s ordeal had spawned many powerful warriors-to-be within the Brass Horn Tribe and so Ogra saw the coming of the Bloodthirster as a blessing from Khorne. The Tribe was the envy of the other eight and the Beastlord, Hargathor sensed in the first-generation hybrids the beginnings of the end of his hard-fought and long-held leadership. But, as blessings of Khorne, there wasn’t anything he could do as to strike them down would be to go against Khorne’s will. Ogra was not unaware of the potential shift in power, forcibly taking custody of the other Beastwomen’s “gifts” and raising them all alongside her son with her influence and only her influence.

Unwilling to sit by and let this threat to his leadership fester without response, Hargathor is ripe for the picking when a Daemon Prince of Tzeentch called Tzip’hpo slithers into the Warherds politics and begins influencing things from the background. She is a daemon of the Changer and plays on his fears and insecurities, convincing him that Khorne’s plan is to kill and replace him. Her cunning isn’t the only reasons he is receptive to her manipulations. Hargathor desires half-fiend spawn of his own from a powerful daemonic source and makes that clear to the Daemon Prince, but this is just one more thread she leads him around by. She will pair with him, she says, if he forsakes Khorne as the Blood God has surely forsaken him for these new upstarts. Tzip’hpo hopes to tear the Skullfest herd apart and thus win Tzeentch’s favor.

Meanwhile, Ograx grows to be the fiercest among his kin and wears many of their skulls as proof of his dominance. Those wise enough to not challenge him seek fortunes in their fellow sister-tribes, casting down their Wargors and becoming leaders in their places. A few try to challenge the Beastlord, but they are killed for their presumptions, as Hargathor has come into new talents and gifts as the years have passed. These appear to be of Khorne, for the once caprine-like Beastlord takes on a bovine aspect, his blood turns to magma, and his skin sheds hot ashes wherever he goes, but no longer does Hargathor proudly display the Mark of Khorne. And a strange little Bray Shaman follows him now, creatures generally unwelcome in Khornate spaces.

Many suspect, but none have the courage to speak what they believe to be true. None, that is, except for Wargor Ograx. Now full grown, wearing the Mark of Khorne, and having wrestled the position of leader from his mother Ogra with her skull to show for his victory, Ograx formally challenges the Fireblood Tribe’s leadership as many of the Skullfest Warherd suspected he might. The battle is fierce, preformed among the daemon birthing-grounds of Haemorrhagia, and watched by every eye of the Eight Tribes. In the midst of it, Ograx reveals Hargathor’s true loyalties as a Disciple of Hashut, the Bull-God of Hatred rather than the Blood God of Rage. Once this occurs, the Daemon Prince Tzip’hpo reveals herself as well and the Half-Blood must duel both a Champion of Hashut and Daemon Prince of Tzeentch at once.

It is one of the most difficult battles of his life, but when the both foes lay dead at his hooves, the Blood God rewards him before the eyes of the entire Warherd. His skin becomes brass and he is blessed with twin daemon-crafted shortswords. A hellish crown of daemonic-horn crowns his brow and the fires of rage burn in his eyes. Ograx takes his own trophies from the corpses, wearing Hargathor’s pelt and turning the Daemon Prince’s skull and spine into a beaked war-axe. The display and the blessing from Khorne all but assures his place as the new Beastlord of the Tribe.

However, Hargathor would not be the only Beastlord to be a pawn in a daemon prince’s game. As Archaon seeks the treasures of Chaos, Be’lakor similarly seeks to stop him, and Ograx is lured and manipulated into a tool to do just that. Taken in by the Beastfiend’s simple motivations and thinking, the Everchosen never believes his ally to be capable of treachery, but alas the Eight-Pointed Star of Be’lakor carved into the Beastfiend’s chest tells a different story.

As Archaon pulls free the Slayer of Kings, he quenches the screaming daemon-sword’s bloodlust in Ograx’s body, killing him and inadvertently damning Z’rughl, father of the Beastfiend, to eternal bondage.

[gongyussy]

good thing from jp twitter this week is queen of old man yaoi michiru sonoo discovering the term old man yaoi

update: somehow it got impossibly more wholesome

quick translation: おかえり: welcome home あ 終わった 終わった: ahhh, it's over! it's done! コーヒー? お茶?: coffee? tea? コ~ヒ~ ありがと: coffee, thank you~ ネクタイレア★★ ネクタイ取るレア★★★★: seeing him with a tie on, rarity level ★★, seeing him take a tie off, rarity level ★★★★ にあうな~: it suits him~

also please do follow: AraigumaSha: sensei's twitter account marureviere: maru, who does such valuable work highlighting bl manga for an international audience

[bookwyrminspiration]

god I would be UNSTOPPABLE if I was capable of consistently initiating tasks. just you wait. you'll be waiting a while but just you wait

[kochei0]

I turn to Ares.

Thanks to Tyler Miles Lockett who allowed me to draw inspiration from his ARES piece for page 2! Look at his etsy page it's SICK

⚔️ If you want to read some queer retelling of arturian legends have a look at my webtoon

[so-i-did-this-thing]

The evolution of (trans) man.

(Well, this one, anyway.)

Age 9: "Tomboy"

Age 15: Strictly enforced femininity

Age 30: Hitting the mental limits of being closeted all his life and about to crash HARD

Age 47: Fifteen years now since starting transition. Far more good days than bad, no regrets.

The world may be full of uncertainty and danger, but I resolve to continue to find joy in who I am. Be joyful to be kind to yourself and be joyful to spite the bastards who would tear us apart.

[coffinwoodx]

ok so for those of you who don’t know, there’s this twitter account of a japanese local hero mascot named dentman who went viral recently due to this tweet

but yeah he saw the tweet. and his response went viral as well (which is how i found his account)

and he just has like. hourly posts reminding you to brush your teeth

oh and his rival? his name is mr. mutans. whenever dentman posts he makes a post of his own, ofc

but THAT’S NOT ALL. literally while making this post i found a THIRD ACCOUNT that’s all about taking your meds

safe to say i’m losing my mind

anyway the point of all this was that people are ALREADY beginning to draw them ship art 😭

and the reactions are everything

I CANT ADD ANY MORE IMAGES BUT TRUST ME THIS IS SO FUNNY

toxic one-sided dentman yaoi wasn’t on my 2024 bingo card but it DEFINITELY IS NOW!

[sparebutton]

(Across the Spider-Verse spoiler)

[alienbycomics]

Gender Nonconforming Jesus: A look at art history. CW: religion, transphobia, artistic nudity, depictions of open wounds (Long post)

Here’s a link to the original comic: Trans Jesus

[williamsjakesd]

Cool shower

[remcadll]

Dick is never going to get to have a midlife crisis because Bruce is going through his for him. also because he will not be making it to 40.

[bigfatbreak]

Patreon request: Superman/Feralnette crossover

I went unnecessarily hard on this for some reason?? anyway, I might play more with this later~

[gongyussy]

MONKEY MAN (2024)

[charlie-rulerofhell]

"I'll be back. I promise you. And everything will be alright."

[gallusrostromegalus]

I was raised agnostic and tend to remain ambiguous on theological matters.

-but my house has a porch on the second story that affords me a terrific view of my neighborhood and the Colorado Front Range and I was partaking of some peace before the 4th Of July Finger-Loss Festivities begin, and I have had a

~*Spiritual Experience*~

I just watched my neighbor try to unload an actual wooden pallet that had to have been forklifted into the back of his insecurity pickup worth of fireworks.

Except that he does not have a forklift in his garage.

He does have so much sports memorabilia and cardboard boxes of unsold MLM Merchandise and patriotically themed camping gear and posters of women in bikinis and flags of suspect political organizations in his garage that there is only BARELY enough space for the fireworks and certainly none for his truck.

So he had to unload the individual boxes of recreational explosives from the back of his truck and stack them in the minimal space he had cleared by hand. This is a tedious and time-consuming process as this neighbor has purchased a wide variety of recreational and locally illegal explosives instead of many of just a few types, so the individual boxes are rather small.

He begins, and this is crucial to what happens next, by cutting apart the industrial-grade saran wrap his explosives dealer had so carefully wrapped his merchandise in, and discarded it unsecured on his lawn.

Where Outdoor Conditions sometimes happen.

His process for unloading the fireworks is to 1. Climb up through the gate into the bed of his pickup truck (a feat made unusually difficult due to the slope of his driveway, and this man's fascinating decision to wear the world's Siffest and least Flexible Denim Overalls. 2. Once in the pickup bed, he selects ONE (1) box from the pile He is apparently from a niche religious institution that doesn't believe in stacking things. 3. Carries it awkwardly around the palette that barely fits in the truck bed 4. His wife yells "Be careful!" when he nearly falls out of the pickup. 5. He Yells "SHADDUP!" back at her. 6. The Large German Shepherd barks from inside the house. 7. He yells "SHADDUP!" back at her too. 8. He sets the (1) box down on the gate 9. Slowly and awkwardly climbs out of the pickup bed 10. picks the box back up, and carries it into the garage.

Question: Aren't you going to help this poor man? Answer: Absolutely Not.

There's four military veterans, MANY dogs, and several people with dementia in this neighborhood, all of whom are terrified by this chicanery every year and many neighbors have repeatedly asked him to maybe do the fireworks somewhere else. (This is the Eighth Year Running he's held a major demolition event in his driveway, and for those of you who can do math, you may be able to guess the precipitating incident to this little ritual) Additionally, I live in Colorado, a state marginally less prone to spontaneous and catastrophic conflagrations than a rotting grain silo, but only marginally. Our recreational explosives laws are written accordingly.

I am in fact calling the Non Emergency line to report Fireworks violations, and reading off the brand labels to someone named Dorothy, who is gleefully totaling up a SPECTACULAR fine for my oblivious neighbor.

However, while I'm on the phone with Dorothy, I notice the wind begin to pick up. and by "Notice" I mean "The Industrial Saran Wrap he left on his Lawn earlier is suddenly swept up about 100 feet into the air by an updraft intense enough to make my ears pop" And by "Pick Up" I mean "I look up to see the sky has turned a fun and exciting shade of glass green, and the bottoms of the clouds are bumpy and rounded, and the overall effect is not unlike looking up through the bottom of the cup at God's Matcha Boba Tea."

For those of you who do not live in places with Inclement Weather, these conditions mean "You have about 30 seconds before a Major Meteorological Event Occurs."

I move under the eaves. "Hang on Dorothy." I say, nose filling with Petrichor. "The show is about to be cancelled." "Oh, that doesn't matter!" Dorothy cheerfully informs me. "It's illegal for him just to possess those, no matter if he actually gets to set them off or not." "Terrific, because he's gotten maybe five boxes out of a hundred inside."

Sometimes, the weather gods are Merciful and give you a verbal warning, typically in the kind of thunderclap that makes your ears ring.

The Gods were not merciful today.

It's not often that I am in the time, place, correct angle or in a properly observational frame of mind to see this, But I got to see it today. Huh. I thought. I've never seen a cloud just DIVE for the ground before. Oh. I realized as it got closer. That's RAIN.

Sometimes, a thunderstorm will form in such a way that the rain that would normally be distributed over an area of say, five to tent square miles, is instead concentrated into an area of say, my neighborhood exactly.

So today, I was granted the rare privilege of being able to actually see the literal wall of water descend from On High and DIRECTLY onto my porch, my street, and my neighbor's truck, and his pile of unwrapped fireworks.

The sheer impact force of the downpour immediately scatters the teetering pile of fireworks boxes in the back of the truck, like the wrath of God striking down the tower of Babel. Boxes tumble, then are washed out of the bed of the truck by the deluge. Smaller Boxes are carried down the road in a little line by the stream forming in the gutter, like little impotent explosive ducklings.

My neighbor was definitely yelling something, but I could not hear what over the DEAFENING noise several million gallons of water makes upon high-speed contact with the earth's surface, but there was a lot of arm-waving and faces turning red as he went looking for the saran wrap that had probably blown to Nebraska by now, while his wife started disassembling the complex three-dimensional puzzle of interlocking material goods in search of a tarp. They do not have a tarp. They have one of those wretched Thin Blue Line flags though, and my neighbor jogs out in a futile effort to cover what's left in the truck.

Which is when the hail begins.

"HELLO?" Yelled Dorothy. "HI!" I shouted. "WE'RE HAVING SOME WEATHER!" "OH GOOD!" she shouts back. "WE NEED THE MOISTURE!"

I watch for a minute longer, but the loss was immediate and catastrophic- the hail is the size of marbles and dense and cares not for your pitiful cardboard and cellophane, ripping the boxes asunder and punching holes in the few things covered in plastic. The colors on the Thin Blue Line Flag are seeping all over the remains of that it was supposed to protect in a particularly apt visual metaphor. Not even the few boxes that made it into the garage are spared, as the German Shepherd escapes from indoors, and in an attempt to assist her humans, jumps directly into the small stack of not-yet-ruined boxes, scattering them into the driveway and deluge. She even picks one up so her humans will chase her around the yard, before dropping it in the gutter to be swept away.

So. I was raised Agnostic -but even I can recognize when God slaps someone upside the head and shouts "NO!" at them.

---

(If you laughed, please consider supporting my Ko-fi or preordering my book of Strange Stories on Patreon)

[logicallyblind]

something there’s a distinct lack of in batman fanfics, especially ‘brucie wayne’ centred ones is the networking he’d have to be doing on the daily to maintain that sorta reputation

like, we all know the man knows how to throw a gala but where are the brunches? the happy hour gossip session with his cover’s clique of the week? the golf club dinners he has to attend every third week of the month? what about visits to hospitals or schools or the soup kitchens for his philanthropy? come on now

you’re telling me he’s the most sought after celebrity in gotham city and beyond, an infamous playboy and supposed extroverted people person who can use long holidays that can last weeks at a time away in tropical islands supposedly partying it up as a plausible excuse to hide his injuries sometimes but when he’s in gotham he’s either at wayne enterprise meetings or tucked away at home alone? nah

i want to see bruce having to really utilise those meditation breathing skills he learned in the league while he’s having to sit upright in a chair with 4 broken ribs, a sprained wrist and a minor concussion in a painfully bright restaurant at 3pm on a wednesday having to listen to bethany-anne titter on about the latest gossip about her neighbours affair with the maid that’s basically an open secret by now like pls there’s so many different routes you can go with this depending on the genre,,, make bruce have to REALLY commit to that cover of his lmao