#it makes sense knowing her

[karlachsbutchwife]

I think it's so cool that Karlach has approval when you break your oath and you say you're tired of the doctrine and dogma, and that you want freedom

[toodrunktofindaurl]

"Death's child"

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[chloesimaginationthings]

These clown animatronics in FNAF wild as hell..

[hamsternamedmarinette]

Don't ask how it got into his room

[newtid]

saw this post and could not stop thinking about @punkitt-is-here as elmo's aunt i NEEDED to draw her

also also while i was drawing i thought up a sesame street episode plot that i think is cute

Elmo's uncle is coming over to visit, but they're looking a little different! They explain to Elmo that sometimes people realise things about themselves and that they start to change, which makes them happier- and though they won't quite be the same as before, that won't make them love you any less. So even if they won't be his amazing uncle anymore, she hopes she can still be his amazing aunt.

ggyuhhg hapoy pride mont 💥🔥‼️💪

letter of the day is T

[foxx-queen]

as much as I get why lucanis is positioned as the one needed to kill ghilan'nain as the mage killer etc, I can't help but feel like it should've been davrin

like. there's something about the dalish elf with andruil's vallaslin, a grey warden, a monster hunter, hunting down the mother of all monsters, who creates monstrosities with the blight, who was once andruil's beloved.

ghilan'nain created the halla. she still cares for the halla, despite what she's become, despite being unable to create them anymore. davrin cared for the halla under his uncle's tutelage. assan cares for and nurses a sick and dying halla. assan, who's name means arrow in elven, when andruil's weapon was a bow, who's hunting instincts give way to something more protective.

davrin was taught the way of the three trees. it was created by andruil. andruil, the goddess of the hunt, also known as the goddess of sacrifice. davrin feels like a weapon sharpened to make that final sacrifice against the blight, a tool that once drove andruil mad, and has twisted ghilan'nain into something unrecognisable. andruil, blood and force, who loved a mortal for her creations and raised her to godhood.

would ghilan'nain see andruil in him? would that offer something more to her character than just oh she's evil?

the dalish tell a legend of ghilan'nain and a hunter who bested her. maybe it was a prophecy instead.

[goodieprocter]

This was literally all I could think during that scene.

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[sarcastic-clapping]

LET YOUR DAD DIE: IT'S FINE IT'S FINE IT'S WHAT HE DID TO HIS DAD.

Lestat + Claudia: Patricide & The Cycles of Violence - INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (2022) - Catherine Lacy, "Cut" (2019) / Anne Rice, "The Vampire Lestat" (1985) / Anne Rice, "Interview with the Vampire" (1976)

[ciderjacks]

despite Laios low self esteem making him think that if he’d been eaten, Chilchuck and Marcille wouldn’t have helped Falin,

theres a small part of me that thinks the reason Chilchuck stayed with the party and went back in the dungeon in the first place was because he didn’t want to leave Laios alone. That Laios was moreso the reason he stayed.

[mohntilyet]

illario as the grandchild that is most like caterina is something i'm loving to chew on. the grandson that took her lessons to heart the most. kill anyone who sees your face and knows your name, "we are not revolutionaries", the first out of the two to prioritise the contract. power at any cost, and the only one to lean into the unnecessary abuse that their grandmother told them was tradition. why is anyone surprised he allied with the venatori? and then there's illario's considerable skill in infiltration and manipulating any mark, he has always had the charisma that lucanis lacked. illario isn't attached, he has/can/will use someone and immediately drop them; "that does free me from promises i don't intend to keep". he can lie about how much he cares so well that he fools a magister into believing he loves her. he kills zara without hesitation to cover his own tracks, meanwhile lucanis blindly promises a young girl in the middle of a siege that he will help her find her father. even the lessons about family stick with him, and in this entire messy power struggle, he never actually orders anyone to directly kill caterina or lucanis, not until he's backed into a corner.

and even after all that. despite even lucanis believing illario should be first talon, lucanis is still the better killer. illario is not strong enough to be the brutal assassin caterina needs him to be. so when lucanis seems to fill the role his mother left, grief and love for her dead heir apparent remains, and any of the other qualities caterina needs in her next talon doesn't matter. whatever his mother was, lucanis has to be. what illario does doesn't matter, because he will always be second best to caterina's memory of her favored daughter.

[novelconcepts]

Keep seeing people confused by Agatha letting the world believe she traded her son instead of telling the truth, but…kinda tracks, tbh. Not for the rational mind, of course. Not if you’re looking at it clearly.

Which Agatha isn’t.

She did the worst thing, in her mind. She fell asleep. She fell asleep, knowing Death had bookmarked her son for later, and when she woke, found him snatched out from under her. She failed him as his mother. She let go. And all the power in all the world wouldn’t be enough to bring him back.

So does the wildly grieving woman who has just lost her only child (to presumably her greatest love, but that’s a city-sized suitcase for another day) let herself go through the process of coping with and adapting to that grief? Fuck no! What is she, common?? She goes on a power bender! Even though the kid she prized in her heart of hearts seemed less than into that very thing! Even though that kid may have been able, given enough time, to convince her to stop! So now, not only did she fail him, but she also opted to speed race down Murder Road! For power! That she still won’t ever be able to use to get him back!

It gets muddled, after decades and centuries of this feeling. It grows teeth. In a way, she did trade him for power. In a way, she’ll always have that sitting on her chest. Never mind that it’s not true. Never mind that she wasn’t a bad mother at all (in this respect, anyway). Never mind that he was sick, and this was always coming. For Agatha, who has been stewing on this story she’s been telling herself for centuries, it is what happened. She traded her son. She did the unforgivable. She fell asleep.

[egophiliac]

like mother, like son, but less wholesome this time?

(I couldn't decide whether or not to put them together, so have them in all the different ways!)

[randomminty]

Five billion octopath 2 scribbles i feel sick

[cowardlykrow]

“Not my circus, not my monkeys”… Except those are his monkeys and they are the circus

[meamiki]

silly comic based on a time i struggled to read live on stream :thumbsup:

context clip compilation below ASDASDFASA

(cw for brief mention of hospitals/strokes)