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Various Concept arts from the p2 artbook!!

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going crazy about the third pathologic🚬

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hello

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ITS APRIL 13 YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

FETCH ME NEIL

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Celestial Conch Shell with Skulls, Huastec, Veracruz (Northern), Mexico, 900–1521 Courtesy Alain Truong

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Gustave Moreau: Study for Lady Macbeth (1851)

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social anxiety and recession simulator

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So JKR is anti asexual now to

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Useless dreams.

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magical girl transformation but i just rapidly go through the 5 stages of decomposition

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Danse Macabre

click for better quality i beg

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so maybe i DO fantasise about being a rank and file foot soldier torn away from my humble life working on my family’s farm to fight for the rights of the common man against the tyrannies of king charles i and in the process catching the eye of my tall and handsome general who is forced by the constraints of rank to keep his distance but lowers his gaze as he rides past me with the wind catching his hair and the red sash bloodying his cuirasse brushing my shoulder whilst i clench my hands at my sides to avoid the temptation to reach out and later as we stand in line to face the king on the blasted field his eyes flick over to me as he gives orders and i clutch my musket in my gloved hands and listen for the call and when the battle is over and i am stumbling through the bodies i find him choking on his own blood amidst the churned earth and half-carry him back to the camp where i wait at his bedside with the sweat drying on my brow and my fingernails carving half-moons in my palms as the surgeons thread their needles and his heavy-lidded eyes hold mine just as they did on his white horse when the sun was high and the bold sash was the only memory of war’s stygian tongue and when the surgeons have cut and and carved and hewn i remain on the pretext of keeping watch over him as he sleeps and sit on a stool by his side with my hands carefully laid on the blankets and my eyes averted as i talk quietly and unthinkingly of a peaceful life on the edge of the moors with a few goats and an apple tree growing at the end of the garden and evenings by the fire with the brush of hard callouses and dark hair against the scarred and pitted map of my palms as in the background the ragged rasp of his breathing grows fainter and fainter and my hands lie like dead and silent things on the pale sheet as i watch the weak flutter of his pulse beneath the thin skin at his throat but that doesn’t make me

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symbolism is stupid and overrated

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THIS HAS ALL HAPPENED BEFORE

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re-designed some of my favorite patho2 characters<3