#but it doesnt exist theres only me

[tamagotchikgs]

nauseous

[deoidesign]

Someone killed my boss last night and he sent me this I'm so fired

god I can't wait to make this comic.

[moeblob]

They're soulmates in every single universe and I miss them at the most random times.

[sidesteppostinghours]

I stick with real things, usually facts and figures When information's in its place I minimize the guessing game Guess what? (What?) I don't like guessing games or when I feel things Before I know the feelings

im ngl, like 90% of the reason i drew this was so i could make this

[jacepi-time]

can people agree to acknowledge being hurt by religious experiences without being disrespectful to religious people like come on, there's so many Christians and Muslims suffering in impoverished countries and concentration camps and to villainize and disregard people's suffering existing because you had a bad experience is uncalled for. Not all christians are skinheads waving signs who wish people death and not all muslims are terrorists??? The same goes for other religions but I tend to see it a lot with these, calling them derogatory terms, thats just disrespectful?? Just because one group under this label treat people evil doesnt represent the people as a whole nor does it undermine someones suffering by their hands either. Like being hurt by horrible people is wrong and that crime should be called out. But it's just insane to me people will just not believe christianity is a real persecuted religion outside of the US but everyone seems to think it's a USA exclusive religion full of bigots or something even though there's a severe need with real christians suffering (like palestine, like china, like north korea, and so on)

[leah2eroes]

"european trans women on this site talking about their petty little problems with "transmisogynists" like. fucking excuse me???? im a TRANS MAN living in AMERICA do you even give a shit about the shit thats happening over here??? you are NOT allowed to voice ANY of your lived experiences if i decide that they make ME look bad!!! this is INFIGHTING! this is MISANDRY!! now is NOT the time for you fucking evil tra- uh.,, trans radfems, to be WHINING about how we 'oppress you'. we don't. now shut up and let the MEN talk."

-actual post i saw on my tl just now (obviously paraphrased with key subtext lol)

[cartoonghosts]

I will love you whether or not you get better. I do not love you for what you could be or what youre going through, I love you for who you are as you are, and I will love whoever you will be.

[skunkes]

as ive been sculpting out talon's face more and being happy with the little details ive been fixing and adding, i think the silco obsession is also a? Focus? Honing in? Back and forth appreciation? <- unsure of exact feeling, on how its so qwesome when characters have unique features even if stylized its so human its so charming i love it i love it

[the-heron]

(mockingly) youre gay AND irish

[neon--nightmare]

forest fire by ajj is SUCH a loveball fresh song to me bro

[martyrbat]

habeas corpus – detective comics #1086

(ID in alt!)

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.

[themyscirah]

Just gonna put this here.

[contagious-watermelon]

am i the only one who feels like aspecs have started doing to "allo" what neurodivergent people have done to "neurotypical"

[serendark]

.

[dandyshucks]

blinks tiredly. i decide "hm maybe i should try to expand my circle and step outside of it a little, lets go look at the main community tags" and im just greeted with a bunch of edgelords who think saying "fiction doesn't affect reality, don't like don't read" is peak activism and "fighting censorship". head in my hands. this is partially why i do not ever go into the community tags, my nervous system cannot handle blocking fifty weirdos every single day just so i can have a normal experience in the community tags hfdsjkl