202⛧Gore Magick⛧202

“From every splintered rooftop gazed the black pearl-eyes of crows who knew that death was always airing her dark furnace, assembling a morbid feast.”

My viscera grew As wood sorrels bloomed, Presaging tender cries. As harebells bruised In violet hues, The only tears were mine.

yes, i am the antichrist. you don't have to ask anymore.

@songslifestyle @xxtarlit nah xxtarlit merch always goes hard

i think im slowly going sane

In 202 we trust

Death arrives in many forms, As it does with days— In stern, woeful cypress Or fraxinella’s blaze. The amaranth may wither And bear its grim demise, But naught can slay the red wine hue It leaves upon your eyes.

Rexxt in the xxtarxx 1006 🖤

2000 years after christ comes to heal us, I arrive to bring sickness.

The fascia between hell and earth begins to rot as SICKNESS draws near.

In case you were curious, mortal blood tastes like iron filings while a god's ichor has a pleasantly sweet milky flavor.

@MTGraveStudio @HJamesWrites i was gonna say the same thing. it just depends on how clear or intentional they are.

@HJamesWrites I think it's impossible for an author not to leave fingerprints of themselves

Writers, do you ever add a piece of yourself into your books? 📝

new cover design for CFCVE

every image should look like this

"She's strong and loyal but sometimes scared" is not an interesting character, nor would such a description encompass any real person. Give her unique ways of speaking, weird ways of thinking, worldviews that nobody else has, scars and jewelry and things that are hers alone.

@Vynales STACKIN FRANKLINS I CANT FOLD EM

I got porno pics wish I can pooost em

The air grows thick with a foul miasma as we approach a post-SICKNESS world.

@SMOKEDOPE2016 imagine your friend asks how you got a skin and you got it from smokedope2016

Who tryna trade cs skins for pokemon cards

Breathing shallow, dragging bricks; The kind of tired that sleep won’t fix. Pallid knuckles, crimson hate; The kind of itch that nails can’t sate. Bloody hands, a sinful urge; The kind of sick that drugs don’t purge.

"The creature’s skeleton seemed to thirst for its own blood—and by the hellfire coiling and refracting through its marrow—transfigured into the teeth of a gluttonous, immaterial monster that masticated the flesh between."

Put my brain in a processor, my lungs in a monitor, and my heart in a motherboard. Let my blood pulse through the cables. Put my eyes in a video, my ears in a call, and my mouth in a forum. Tear me apart and plug me in.