#like the viscera in this

[bauliya]

some more of my favourite bits

[that-house]

“Tell me about magic,” I said to the god wearing my friend’s corpse.

It (I would not grant it the honor of using her name) smiled at me the way she used to smile. It looked like shit, by the way, streaked with mud and blood and slowly spinning new flesh from atmospheric carbon to patch up the bullet holes our latest acquaintances had left it.

“I know every word in your human languages and none of them suffice. How would you explain a black hole’s accretion disk to a fish?”

“I don’t know. Try.” I didn’t bother voicing the threat but it was implicit, as it was in all of our conversations: your kind has died only once before, but it was at the hands of mine.

It sighed with the weariness of a parent about to talk down to a kid, but it signed up for this when it trapped itself on this rock with me. “It’s a puzzle that’s almost been solved since forever began, a puzzle of infinite complexity worked on by the million sharpest minds to ever be, all themselves fractured into dizzying arrays of subminds in temporally upspun pocket universes, all striving to refine those secret arts of law and mastery. It’s cooperation and competition, vines of knowledge strangling each other as we reach ever upwards towards the sun, clawing at each other in our desperate want. It’s a science. It’s like breathing. It’s like love.”

“I distinctly recall you saying that love is an idiocy reserved for us mortals, and a more efficient chemically-induced blindness than sodium hydroxide too.”

“And I maintain that stance, but it gets the point across, does it not?” It huffed with exasperation, you know, the way that she had a thousand times when we were young. An affectation? Or a bit of humanity bleeding into the monster?

“Mhm. Sure.”

It side-eyed me but kept talking. “You don’t have the point of view it would take to truly understand magic. You never will. Even if you saw the world the way I did, you wouldn’t have the context or the time to decipher it. For you it can never be a science, only ever an art.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“In truth I envied you. With infinity at one’s proverbial fingertips, what else is there to do? The greatest possible workings have all been deduced, those most absolute and inviolable inflictions of the will upon the cosmos, and all that remains to study are the fleeting shadows of concepts beyond even us. But you humans, you tread on new ground that we’ve long since mastered, internalized, and then forgotten. The best you can manage without literally blowing your own minds is a little teleportation. You’re clueless and flawed and you fuck it all up whenever you get the chance. And I envied you.” For a creature enamored with paradox, the idea of a god envying a mortal sure pained it.

“So you cut it all free, cast off the godhead, and came down from on high to slum it with we mortals. I bet you’re regretting that now,” I said, sticking my finger in the last bullet hole and giving it an experimental wiggle. It winced, but the wound closed up like it had never been as I withdrew my finger. Pain is a just a signal, it was always fond of saying. But it still cried whenever it lost a limb.

“Not in the slightest,” said the once-god wearing my friend’s corpse. “This is the most alive I’ve felt in eons.”

[fluentisonus]

🫀<- when you want to convey a deep & abiding love for something but in a Meat way

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

we need more vampire characters who are squeamish at the sight of blood. that's a comedic goldmine and it's just sitting there

[hrokkall]

DIVINE AUTOPSY

Text from a post by @bedrock-to-buildheight about angel anatomy and the physical manifestations of regret that can only be purged in a bloody vivisection.

[crumbpigeon]

till death do us part

[zarla-s]

saw this post, had to draw it

[patreon]

[clownowo]

Sometimes I wonder why Dahlia and Iris share a hairstyle. Who wore it first? Dahlia was not wearing it when she faked her death, so it's not just a hairstyle they've just been wearing since they were kids (not that I think either of them would want to continue Fey tradition anyway).

Obviously Iris mimics Dahlia to get the necklace from Phoenix, so maybe she continues it in remembrance of a time she was really happy. Or maybe just despite it all she still loved her? Could keep a piece of her sister alive even after she was executed?

Or maybe Dahlia mimics Iris. She saw Iris as a symbol of purity and innocence. The kindness that Dahlia projects is what Iris really had. So when she cultivates her false identity she looks to her sister for inspiration.

[pigswithwings]

you're electrifying to me!

[freakinator]

[canisalbus]

hi i ride motorcycle year round and wanted to chime in. for vasco's small around-town trips he'd probably be fine with his ears free, but for longer trips at higher speeds or when its cold out he'd want them protected. probably by tucking them under his chin into the collar of a jacket and then putting a scarf or bandana on. also goggles would be helpful if a full helmet wasn't wanted. since they're in europe and around italy specifically he could have a nice ducati (fast rockety sport bikes) or a cafe racer (much more like a motorized bicycle but they can still have a lot of power) a cafe racer would offer a lot of seat space for machete to be thoroughly uncomfortable in lol

i love your ocs they're great thanks for all the cool art :)

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[nana2009]

Can you draw dave and karkat just cuddling like normal people

Like can they have a normal experience please

Pretty please

Just cuddling like a normal couple 💔

unfortunately i cannot

this is the normalest they can get

[palossssssand]

I love making repeating patterns it's so fun and I should do it more often. Here's guts and it's now available on redbubble!

[mmolia]

charles finally got to be the tampon in camilla's pussy with this portrait

[luck-of-the-drawings]

FOR A BEAT OF HEART, THE BREATH IS SHOT. AND WITHIN A BREATH, THE HEART IS CAUGHT. THE PIPES ARE BURSTING, UNDER GREAT STRESS, BOLTS TORN ASUNDER, MAKING A MESS. A FINAL COUGH, A FINAL RETCH, A GOREY SLOUGH, CLAIMED BY WRETCH.

[hrokkall]

Cut the wire from the jaw