god of insects

i may come back and colour and/or paint this at one stage but u know i like the kinda storybook look to it

here. have some sweet damian lookin after sleepy baby mic. runnin a new organisation is tough. let him sleep

God gave you that crooked smile, those freckles, that height, that eye shape, that nose, those stretch marks, the moles. You were created special. In His image. Don’t try to change yourself to look like someone else. There’s no one more beautiful than you. love yourself, embrace everything about your body. It is your temple until your very last breath so make it a home you love. Thank Him for making you the way you are because you are loved, and there’s someone out there that wishes you would see what they do.

While these illustrated insects appear incredibly lifelike, Dutch artist, Nicolaas Struyck, likely worked from dead specimens that had been a part of a wealthy person’s “curiosity cabinet” collection. Through the 17th and 18th centuries, collecting exotic flora and fauna became a way to emote status among the elite. 

We know that the rare long horned beetle is native to Indonesia, which was a Dutch colony in Struyck’s time. The creature was likely brought to the Netherlands where it would have probably been showcased with items ranging from artworks to shells, crystals, minerals. The collections were seen as a microcosm of the universe, “juxtaposing the wonders of man with those of God or nature.” 

forbidden-alchemist  asked:

Why cant you run that card in the locust god? Just choose insect as a creature type

Both abilities are mandatory, so if you name insect with the Locust God on the board, you start a chain reaction that ends with your death (unless you have bounce in your deck and the mana to cast it at instant speed).

Give No Quarter X

You looked at the droplets of dew frigid against your paled skin above the rope tightly binding your wrists before you. Your ankles and arms were tied as securely and you lacked more than shirt and trousers to protect you from the chill of dawn. You shivered violently against another early morning gale which reminded you of the damp glossed across your skin from a night spent on deck.

You could feel the chafe of the roughened rope against your skin, your hair hanging in sodden knots around your face. You closed your eyes, tired but having not a moment of sleep amid the ocean’s lashing. You recalled the day before, when the Major had unmasked your secret and proceeded in catechizing you. His manner was that of offense, as if he was insulted that a woman would paint herself a man. He had been severe in his questioning and your refusal to bend to his will had sharpened his mien.

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