#tw blod

[eu0n1a]

#1 Prohero Izu after a long day fighting villains:

[awkwardosthe3rd]

New & Old as I fix up an old painting of mine with upgraded designs and brain capacity

lesgo

[criminaldoenjangjjigae]

My teeth hurt (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)

[killjoyryder]

"Love me till our dieing days" Tw/CW: (probably useless because of where Tumblr puts these, however.) Blood, Knife, Eyestrain. Decided I'd do a "halloween" drawing. Enjoy!~<3

[bellsartblog]

still no art yet but i'm getting into the mindset again so i drew something easier, My OCs :DDD, Poisemera and Iborta. though i was a bit unwell so i made it gory and bloody.

to see the piece you just need so click keep reading but for those that can't, i'll talk about what i'm trying to do with the piece.

so the god of time, Iborta, and the god of space Poisemera have know each other since forever. they are each other's best friends/ enemy or whatever duo there is out there. their dynamic is that one give and one take, usually it was iborta that give himself to Poisemera while she is the one to take. in this piece, i painted her in a bad light but i swear she's kinder than this!.

⚠️⚠️⚠️TW: BLOOD, GORE. IT'S THE MAIN SUBJECT OF THE PIECE ⚠️⚠️⚠️

[alicewhimzy]

22: Scratchy. 🐱

Trigger warning: blood

Scratchy is her name btw.

Don't worry about the post, it can't feel pain.

Probably.

[lightningfoxy]

Bloody art I did because I was bored

[theovergrowth]

(( drew this a bit ago, below the cut because we got some Baby Boy Overgrowth, fresh off his first corruption ❤️❤️ so TW eye strain, blood but badly drawn, death implied (bye bye pop) ))

[myorgansaremelting]

I legit thought I was dying of internal bleeding earlier. Turns out it’s just my period.

[ovcheonok]

(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)🫀

[nyxpheros]

"Stop me if you must."

[dcdreamblog]

So, I have heard that the name "Vandal Savage" is a corruption of his original name back in prehistoric times, which was supposedly "Vandar Adg".

I have also heard that "Adg" means "Stone/the Stone/of the Stone". Is this considered plausible by modern historians? Do we have any idea what "Vandar" means?

The name "Vandal Savage" or etymological variations of it occur in a truly staggering amount of archeological contexts all over the old world.

You are correct in that the first name we find that we can connect to that man is "Vandar Adg" which was discovered in texts dating back to ancient Mesopotamia speaking of a mythical founder of Atlantis before it sunk beneath the waves.

(An ivory artifact discovered in the ruins of ancient Ur excavated 1853, considered by some to be the first artistic depiction of a metahuman act. Beneath the image is an inscription where the name Vandar Adg is first written)

We do not know if this was Vandal's "birth name", how long he had been alive before the invention of writing or if either of those questions even truly apply.

As best we can tell though, the answer to your question is some variation on "Blood/of Blood/from Blood" meaning his name translates to something in the neighborhood of "Blood from the Stone/Stone Blood/Stone of the Blood Tribe"

[failingeconomics]

the eldritch horror x some guy dynamic has grown on me

[jenniferstolzer]

Jason Vorhees

This pic was chosen by poll with help from my patrons. Those patrons already have access to my production videos, but the time-lapse will go live for everyone some time next week. Follow to get the alert for that, and hop over to my page to vote on the next fanart poll.

[alicewhimzy]

Today I forced chatgpt to write a poem about the Moral Orel episode Nature. I gave it a few extra details to work with and this is what it gave me.

TW! FOR BLOOD, GORE, RELIGIOUS THEMES, GUN MENTION AND CANNIBALISM. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

"In the hallowed realm of the wilderness, we embarked,

Father and son, united in pursuit of primal conquest.

The haunting echoes of an ancient narrative whispered,

The tale of Abraham and Isaac, their bond, their test.

With eager hearts, we ventured forth into the wild,

Clay, my father, a figure of strength and guidance,

And I, Orel, a youth yearning for validation,

Bound together by blood, by shared ancestry.

The sun cast its golden glow upon the rugged terrain,

Nature's cathedral adorned in autumnal splendor,

And in this sacred theater, our fates entwined,

Weaving a tapestry of revelation and despair.

As we journeyed deeper into the heart of the hunt,

A subtle unease began to taint the pristine air,

The scent of sacrifice, an offering to the gods,

The cruel duality of life and death woven in our steps.

Like Abraham of old, my father wore the weight of destiny,

A divine command whispered upon his ear,

To offer his own kin as an act of unwavering obedience,

To test the boundaries of faith and loyalty.

The sacred blade glistened in his trembling hand,

Its edge kissed by the whispers of divine decree,

And as his eyes met mine, a plea for comprehension,

I saw the reflection of a tortured soul torn asunder.

But unlike Isaac, spared by divine intervention,

I found no deliverance from the hand of fate.

A gunshot shattered the stillness, tearing through flesh,

And pain, sharp and unrelenting, became my crucible.

Blood stained the earth, an altar of sacrifice,

And in the depths of agony, reality fractured,

Visions plagued my wounded mind, a maddening dance,

Clay, transformed into a lupine devourer of his own kin.

Goya's haunting brushstrokes danced before my eyes,

The visage of Saturn, consumed by monstrous hunger,

Clay, now a beast, tearing into the tender flesh,

His own offspring, victims of his insatiable appetite.

In the throes of anguish, I questioned the divine,

The God who demanded such ruthless tests of faith,

Did the heavens delight in the suffering of mortals,

Or was our pain a mere shadow of human frailty?

As I lay wounded, my faith teetered on the precipice,

Not lost, but unraveling, like a fragile thread,

I yearned for answers, for solace in a chaotic world,

To reconcile the monstrous with the divine.

The wilderness became my sanctuary of introspection,

A cathedral of questions, of doubts and exploration,

For I, Orel, no longer bound by blind allegiance,

Found liberation in the brave act of questioning.

Does God exist, I pondered, amidst the bloodied earth,

Or is He but a figment of our longing, our fears?

I did not forsake my faith, but in the crucible of pain,

I discovered the strength to challenge, to seek my truth.

And so, Orel emerged from that hunting odyssey,

Not unscathed, but awakened, with eyes unveiled,

The scars of revelation etched upon my wounded flesh,

With a heart that dared to question, to embrace the unknown."

...Damn. 😐

I like it. A bit heavy on the purple prose but still, nice! 😁

[blueprxde]

it hurts, mama