
JBB: An Artblog!
Claire Keane
Sade Olutola
No title available
styofa doing anything

Origami Around

⁂
YOU ARE THE REASON

pixel skylines
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titsay
Three Goblin Art
No title available

@theartofmadeline
Cosmic Funnies
Jules of Nature
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Xuebing Du
tumblr dot com
$LAYYYTER

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@daddynollie
Wielding holy artifacts of the old world - like guardians of a forgotten time - the saints of the order of Our Sacred Chalice scour the mist in search of relics and wisdom which survived the war of the Great Horrors.
Mysterious and secretive, each saint is a nation of their own, but with unswerving loyalty to each other and their common goal. They are the dedicated keepers of the holy relics and leaders of their devoted retinues of acolytes - orphan children put in service of the greater good. Be it changelings, giants or human. Saints rarely operate near settlements, so the taboos aren’t as strict.
Life is grim for both acolyte and saint as they often travel uncharted territories in the mist in search of more secrets. No matter what - a saint is not allowed to die. Should their life be threatened, it will be artificially extended through painful, esoteric medical procedures to a degree well beyond what a human body should tolerate. No acolyte would allow their saint to be hurt and would sacrifice their own life without hesitation - as few wish to become the next saint, should their own die.
Above them all is the relic itself. No life is worth more than it’s safety. Both saint and acolytes are deeply trained in its function, care and operation. Should a saint die, an acolyte will pick it up and become the new Saint. Should a Saint find a new relic, it will be brought back to the order’s citadel for study. If it is still operational, an acolyte befitting it’s criteria will be chosen to become its saint - and so the order grows.
Like a holy congregation, the saints of the Order of Our Sacred Chalice gathers at their citadel deep underground in an ancient mine where they keep their secrets safe and heavily fortified. No one knows how many silver tower bells they have in their possession as no chime has ever been heard. Yet still, the monsters of the mist stay clear and out of their territory.
Who knows what secret binds them together so religiously.
A mom and her gaggle of kids search for more guns
HaruMichi in every episode // ep. 103
remake of this
Sifting daylight dissolves the memory, turns it into dust motes floating in light.
Toni Morrison
SCREW MODERN DAY CLOTHING
I want to look absolutely fucking feral, making my own clothes with the resources around me and having like 16 pockets for all my herbs, crystals, and daggers
transparent flowers illustrations ❀
A tree trunk throne in Kendall, England.
Doesn’t look safe for a mortal.
if you sit there you belong to the fae
That’s the Fae’s problem
That is such a strong, bold, confident statement and I respect you for it.
TREEHOUSE LIFE
© Copenhagen Wilderness